by Elle Wright
“Detroit,” he admitted.
“Ah.” She shot him a playful grin. “Figures.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“I knew you were from a big city.”
Carter laughed. “Is that a bad thing?”
“Not really. I like Detroit. I’ve been there a few times. There’s a lot to do. A friend of mine moved to the Detroit area a few years ago. She stays in . . .” She tapped her chin as if in deep thought. “Westland?”
“Okay, that’s not too far from the city.” Westland was a city in the metropolitan Detroit area, about sixteen miles from downtown. Carter was familiar with the area because Krys used to drag him to the Westland mall to shop. For some reason, she enjoyed the smaller mall more than the bigger one near their home. “I’ve actually spent a lot of time there.”
“Really? She used to stay in Detroit, but her fiancé works in Ann Arbor and they wanted to move somewhere in the middle.”
Of course Carter knew Ann Arbor. He was a University of Michigan alumnus. “I went to school in Ann Arbor.” He said it before he could stop himself.
“Shut up. You went to U of M? I wanted to go there, but my father insisted I go to Michigan State.”
“You’re a Spartan, huh?”
The rivalry between U of M and Michigan State was strong in the state. Carter had never been a fan of the “green and white.” Kendall had defected and decided to head to East Lansing for college. It made game days very spirited in the Marshall household.
“I am. You got a problem with that?”
“I guess you can’t win them all.”
“Wow.” Brooklyn smiled. “Good comeback. Now if only your team could actually win a game.”
“Ooo . . .” He chuckled. “And you would know how it feels to have a losing team.”
“I’m also a BU Terrier,” she said.
“Boston U, huh? So you haven’t lived in Michigan all your life?”
“Nope. I’ve actually spent a lot of time in the Boston area. I went to a boarding school out there for three years, and then went back for grad school.”
“What made you come back here?”
Brooklyn shrugged. “I wonder the same thing sometimes. But it always comes back to my childhood. It’s the last connection I have to my mother, there are some fine people here in Wellspring. It’s home. My family is here.”
Carter understood that. After he’d graduated with his bachelor’s degree, he’d stayed at U of M for his graduate degree, while Martin went off to Duke University. At the time, he’d told himself that he stayed for Krys, but it was really because Michigan was home. He never really wanted to live anywhere else.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Brooklyn continued. “I love Boston and have considered a move more times that I can count. But I enjoy what I do here.”
“That’s a bonus.” Carter wanted to ask more. He’d enjoyed their friendly banter, and couldn’t help the smile that seemed to get wider when they’d traded barbs about each other’s teams. “The connection,” he blurted out when the conversation died down.
Brooklyn blinked. “Excuse me?”
“The internet. I also overheard you saying your internet isn’t working. I can help with that.” Yes, I can. He was a computer engineer after all. He’d made his living off knowing computers and developing software.
“Oh, okay. Sure, I’d love the help.”
He pointed toward the patio door. “I’ll come over.”
“Right. I’ll open the door.”
A few minutes later, he was standing on the other side of her door. He lifted his hand to knock, but the door swung open. Brooklyn stood before him, a smile on her face and a robe covering her beautiful body.
Carter knew he shouldn’t feel disappointed, but that’s exactly how he felt. The thought made him feel like a straight-up pervert.
“Come in.” She pulled him inside and he followed her to the kitchen table, where her laptop sat.
It didn’t take him long to hook up her connection—if anything he went slower than he normally would. Once he was finished, he pointed down at the laptop. “You’re all set.”
She leaned forward, clicked on the internet browser. Carter closed his eyes as her scent floated to his nose. Vanilla. “Yes!” she shouted, with a fist pump in the air. “You are a genius!”
He was so wrapped up in her energy that he was rendered speechless when her mouth met his. A warmth shot through his body, right before it disappeared. Because she disappeared. And he couldn’t say if he was relieved or disappointed.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” She backed away. Far away to the other side of the kitchen. A flush spread across her cheeks. The mortified look on her face would have offended him if he could think about anything other than her lips on his. It wasn’t a passionate kiss. It was soft, and the first time he’d kissed any woman since Krys died.
The thought sobered him and he bolted out of the chair. “It’s fine, no big deal.” Except it is a big deal.
In the two years since he’d lost his wife, he hadn’t even really thought about being with another woman. Yes, he liked sex and had been propositioned many times, but he’d gotten used to not getting any. This was different. She was different.
He was sure if Aisha were here, she’d give him the big thumbs-up. Everyone wanted him to move on, to meet someone. How could he do that when he felt guilty for even looking at another woman? He looked at his wrist and cursed inwardly because he didn’t have on his watch.
Brooklyn approached him tentatively. “I’m . . . I didn’t mean to kiss you like that. I just got caught up in the moment. Please forgive me.”
He smiled tightly. “Nothing to forgive.” And he wanted her to do it again. He wanted to do more than kiss her. The admission, even to himself, was enough to make his entire body go tense. “I should probably go, though. I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow.”
Needing to put as much distance between them as possible, he left without another word.
* * *
“Don’t go,” Brooklyn murmured, clinging to her big brother. Parker had driven her to a fast food joint to pick up breakfast, and he was dropping her back off at her new place. “Can’t you spend the day with your little sister? We could watch movies, eat, talk.”
Actually they could sit looking at each other in silence and it still would have been better than being alone. Brooklyn used to love the solitude of being by herself, but she missed having someone around to chat with or play games with. Nicole had her own life and Brooklyn hated to intrude.
As much as she pretended to like freedom, she longed for strings. By now, she’d expected to be settled in a committed relationship and on the road to marriage—just not with Sterling. The sad part was she hadn’t actually met a man in recent years who would even qualify for husband material. Dating was like walking a mine field. One false move, and BOOM!
“Brooklyn, you’re going to be fine.” Parker pinched her earlobe, like he used to do when they were kids. “It’ll be an adjustment, but you’re going to end up loving it here. Why don’t you head to town and pick up some décor? Spruce up the place. Make it Brooklyn’s place.”
“Considering I have no money, that would be a negative.”
Parker pulled out three crisp hundred-dollar bills from his wallet. “Here, take this.” She opened her mouth to protest, but he rushed on. “And don’t give me a hard time about this. You’re my sister, and I love you. Whatever I can do to help you, I will. So take this money, and go buy a vase or a painting to put on the wall.”
Brooklyn closed a fist around the money in her palm. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I love you, too. Thanks for coming last night. I’m sure your date wasn’t thrilled that you walked out on her like a thief in the night.”
When Parker had arrived the night before, he wasn’t in the greatest of moods. It wasn’t until they’d settled in for a movie that he’d admitted that she’d ruined his little plans. Her brother was the most eligible bachel
or in Wellspring, but once again he’d pushed his own personal needs aside for her. She was grateful to him for everything, but she also wanted him to be happy. She felt bad that she’d basically guilted him into dropping whatever he was doing to come and keep her company.
“She’ll be alright.” He waved a dismissive hand in the air. “Not like she won’t answer the phone when I call to make it up to her later.”
He wiggled his eyebrows, and Brooklyn turned up her nose in disgust. “Ew, that’s too much information.”
“Hey, I’m a grown-ass man, and you’re an adult now. I refuse to sugarcoat my life anymore.”
She laughed. “Like you ever did.”
Growing up, Brooklyn was well aware of her brother’s reputation with the ladies. No, he wasn’t a manwhore or anything, but there weren’t many women who wouldn’t want what Parker had to offer. He was charming, had an infectious laugh, but more than that, he was a genuinely good man, nothing like Senior.
Parker pulled her into a tight hug. She swallowed rapidly, as emotion bubbled up inside her. “I love you, big brother.”
“Love you, too, big head.”
Chapter 10
Brooklyn waved as Parker drove off. This sucks. Once he was out of sight, she made her way up to her front door. She shifted her bag of greasy food under an arm and fished for her key. Shaking her purse, she cursed as she dug in and pulled out her key, and a receipt for gas, and her earbuds.
“Good morning.”
Brooklyn glanced up and found Carter standing outside his door. Has he been there this entire time? She scanned the area, before meeting his gaze again. “Hello. I didn’t see you come up.” She allowed herself a few seconds to take in his outfit. He was wearing sweats that rode low on his lean hips and a T-shirt that showed off his ripped body. Damn.
“You were busy trying to find your keys, I’m guessing. I went and joined the gym down the street and decided to stop at the Starbucks.” His voice was like warm coffee—hot and addictive. He eyed the fast-food bag under her arm. “That’s not breakfast.”
For some reason, she felt ashamed under his perusal. It was almost like he could see the contents of her bag and was picking apart her love for greasy hash browns and sausage biscuits. She wanted to defend her choice, but found herself saying, “There’s nothing much around here, and I was in a rush.”
It wasn’t even a convincing lie. Truth was, Parker had offered to take her into town for breakfast at the Bee’s Knees—not that her favorite item on the menu was much better—but she’d turned him down, instead opting for quick and greasy.
“Ah.” He smirked and she knew he didn’t believe her excuse. “Smells good.”
Her mouth went dry at the sarcasm in his tone. Really? He was judging her when he was sipping on coffee? Coffee was unhealthy, even though she loved it and couldn’t operate without it.
“Are you judging me with that cup of coffee in your hand?”
“It’s tea.” He winked. “Nice try.”
Her mouth fell open, before she closed it. He was actually joking with her, teasing her really. “Oh.”
He chuckled. “I’m just playing with you. Did you bring me some?”
The better question was Does he want me to give him some? Because the way he was looking, she was definitely down. Bad girl.
“Um, I actually do have an extra sandwich, if you’re interested.” His eyes were on her, assessing her. She grew uncomfortable under his stare. “You’re staring again.”
He blinked. “I’m sorry.”
Truth be told, his dark stare made her squirm in her shoes. Not in a bad way, but in a damn-I-want-you -to-want-me kind of way. “Well, if you don’t have any other plans,” she continued, “I don’t mind sharing.” Herself or her sandwich.
“Do you have any plans?” The question seemed like a challenge, like he expected her to tell him she did. Like he knew something.
“I’m actually free all day. I did plan to run to the store to get a few things for the condo. It’s a little colorless in there. One big beige explosion.”
She knew Parker hadn’t picked out each piece of furniture himself, but he’d probably instructed the interior designer to go with neutral tones. Unfortunately, Brooklyn wasn’t a beige type of person. Gray, yes. Beige, yuck.
“I don’t mind some company, if you want to see more of the town,” she added.
Brooklyn waited for a response. Every second that passed without an answer frayed her nerves. It was a simple yes or no. One word and she’d know where she stood. He’d already turned her down for dinner and coffee. And now it appeared she was a glutton for punishment. Maybe she’d spooked him last night with the crazy kiss? Who kisses someone for fixing their internet? Apparently, she did.
She chalked it up to temporary insanity. Why else would she ask him out again, like a desperate, horny teenager? Or a grown-ass woman who didn’t have options? Because damn it, she did. I’m a catch.
Carter took a step toward her. He was like a big, hard wall of muscle. He smelled like sweat and woods. He was downright distracting. “I wish I could join you,” he said finally. “I have a conference call that I have to hop on in an hour.”
Crushed, she nodded. “That’s fine,” she lied. “No worries. We are neighbors, after all. I’ll see you around.” She pushed her key into the lock, biting back a curse.
“Hey,” he called to her.
She froze, but refused to look up at him. “Yes?”
“Since you have an extra sandwich, I wouldn’t mind sharing it with you.”
Sighing, she glanced over at him. Smiling, she told him, “Sure. Come on in.”
* * *
Carter sat, his back ramrod straight on Brooklyn’s couch. What the hell am I thinking? He’d had an out, told her he couldn’t go out with her to shop. Then he’d turned right around and agreed to eat breakfast with her?
He didn’t have an excuse for accepting her offer for a greasy breakfast sandwich. Not a logical one, at least. He didn’t even eat sausage, or biscuits. Unless his mother made her famous biscuits and gravy. And that was pretty rare these days, since he’d made it a point to stay away from family functions in recent months. But Brooklyn . . . He’d hurt her when he turned her down, even though she’d tried to play it off. Carter wanted to let her know that it wasn’t her. It was him. It was always him.
This isn’t a date, though. Wasn’t it? Two people, eating with only each other. Regardless of the less than fancy fare, the fact that he was sitting across from Brooklyn, trying like mad to not stare at her mouth as she talked, screamed “date” to him.
He didn’t know what to do with his conflicting emotions. He was torn between pushing her away and pulling her closer. One minute, he was resolving with himself to stay away, and the next he was anticipating the next time he’d see her.
“Don’t you agree?” she asked.
Caught off guard by her question and the fact that he had no idea what she’d been talking about, he nodded. Carter stared down at his half-eaten sandwich. “What do you do?” he asked.
A wide grin spread over her face. “I’m a social worker. I work at the Wellspring Clinic.”
He found it very hard to concentrate when she smiled. It was genuine and warm, showed off the tiny creases around her mouth. “Do you enjoy it?” he managed to ask.
“I love it.” She rested her chin on her hand, staring at some point behind him. “Watching my clients find their footing after dealing with addiction or mental illness is so rewarding.”
“What made you choose that career?” The more she talked, the more he wanted to hear. Brooklyn wasn’t anything he’d expected. Instead of the pampered princess he thought she was when he’d first laid eyes on her, she was a woman who wasn’t afraid to lend a helping hand to those less fortunate.
She pushed at her sandwich. “My mother struggled with an addiction to pain meds,” she explained, her voice so soft Carter had to strain to hear her. “And I wish I could have helped her. Unfortunately,
she died when I was young, so I figured since I couldn’t help her, I could help someone else.”
Carter knew all too well the damage that a parent with an addiction could inflict. His father was a raging alcoholic who hadn’t thought twice about beating his mother in front of them. It wasn’t until Carter was old enough and big enough to stop his father that the abuse ended.
“Did your mother die of an overdose?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No. She died in a car accident. I was in the car with her.”
“How old were you?”
“Twelve. We were on our way back from Woodland Mall in Grand Rapids, because I just had to have the new . . . I don’t even remember what I wanted. Anyway, she was driving home, and a semi cut us off. Next thing I remember, my father and my brother were standing over me in the hospital. My mother had been killed instantly.”
The grief in her tone sparked something within Carter, made him want to comfort her. But he didn’t know her, so he wouldn’t assume she needed his comfort. Instead, he gripped the edge of the small kitchen table. Hard. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. “Must have been hard for you.”
“Hard is an understatement. But I was lucky to have my brothers. And Nic. They’re my family.”
“What about your father?”
She rolled her eyes. “Me and my father have a complicated relationship. So, no, I didn’t feel lucky to have my father during that time and after.”
He wanted to tell her that he knew about that as well. But once again he refrained from sharing too much. A few moments passed with no words spoken. “Well, I better get going.” He stood, wrapping up the rest of his sandwich. “I have work to do.”
She rose to her feet. “I can toss that.” She gestured toward the sandwich. He handed it over to her. “They don’t taste too good warmed up.”
Carter watched her toss both sandwiches into the wastebasket. “Thanks for breakfast.”
She followed him to the door. “No problem. I’ll be seeing you around. Good luck with your conference call.”
“Thanks.”
He walked out but was stopped by his name on her lips. “Yes?” he asked, turning around to face her.
