Paige had been Brooke's best friend while growing up in Angel Ridge. They'd spent endless amounts of time together. In high school, Paige and Tyler, who were the most adorable couple in school, had spent a lot of time with her and Logan. The guys had been the best of friends.
So, Paige had married her high school sweetheart, and they were still happily married and expecting their first child. It made Brooke hopeful that happily-ever-after really did exist.
“Thanks,” Paige said, squeezing Brooke's hand. Her other held a glass of....something, Brooke noticed.
“Ginger ale,” Paige said, holding it up to her lips and taking a sip. We normally don't hang out here, but Tyler's cousin is in the band and he asked us to come. We haven't been out in months, so I plan on having a good time tonight.” She winked as she said it. “This pregnancy is really kicking my butt,” she explained. “I can't believe you're really here. I've missed you so much, Brooke.” Paige's eyes filled with tears. She waved it away. “It's the pregnancy hormones,” she said, laughing. “They're brutal.”
“So tell me, what's going on with you? I want to know everything.” Brooke had heard things here and there from Rissa, who kept her updated on what was happening in Angel Ridge.
“Well, after college I came home to Angel Ridge, and I've been here since. I landed a position at the school, where I teach second grade. Let's see, then Tyler and I bought our dream home just outside of town. We've lived together since coming back,” she added. “We were married last year, and now here I am, as big as the Pillsbury Doughboy,” she laughed. Brooke couldn't help but notice how radiant she looked.
Paige was careful not to mention Logan because she wasn't sure exactly what Brooke's relationship with him was. All she knew was that things had ended badly between them. She was curious, though, especially since she'd seen them sitting together earlier. “I'm sure it's not nearly as exciting as your life. Moving to the east coast to attend Harvard, becoming a doctor, living in California, traveling, schmoozing. Ooh, have you met any celebrities?” She feigned an exaggerated sigh.
Brooke laughed. “A few,” she said. “And, my best friend is a celebrity, of sorts.”
“Who?!” Paige asked, waiting expectantly.
“Ashley Breeland,” Brooke said.
She watched the light come on in Paige's eyes. “The Ashley Breeland? The romance novelist?” Paige asked, excitedly.
Brooke nodded. “The one and only.”
Paige squealed, and Brooke laughed. “Oh my God, that's so awesome!” Paige had always loved to read, Brooke remembered. The two of them would steal romance novels from Paige's mother's bedroom and take turns reading them. They had to sneak them because they were only fourteen at the time, and their parents would never have allowed it. Everything they'd learned about sex they'd learned from romance novels.
“Well, it seems like you have everything you've ever wanted. I couldn't be happier for you, Paige.”
“Thank you, Brooke. I have no complaints, no regrets.” She became more serious. “I love my life and I wouldn't trade it for anything.”
Brooke thought about her own life, which was pretty great, for the most part. But it was missing the most important things, the things Brooke had always longed for ~ a man who loved and adored her, and the children they would make together to fill up their home with. Paige had the life Brooke always imagined she and Logan would have. It made her realize what she was missing, and sat heavily on her heart.
After a few more minutes of chatting, and both women making plans to get together for lunch one Saturday, they said their goodbyes.
Brooke was attempting to make her way back to the table when a small group of guys stopped her. They were a few of the football players from high school, she remembered. She chatted with them briefly, listening to them talk about which of them had gotten hitched recently, whose wives were expecting, what they did for a living. One of them, Chris Hart, who'd been the captain of the varsity football team, grabbed her arm when she tried to say her goodbyes. He was drunk and obnoxious, and reeked of alcohol.
“Where are you taking off to so soon?” he slurred. “C'mon, hang with us for a while. We'll show you a good time, honey.”
“I really have to get going,” she insisted, attempting to loosen her arm from his death grip. His beefy fist was like a band of iron, and Brooke was helpless to do anything but struggle. She heard a couple of the other guys tell him to let her go, but his grip only tightened on her arm. “Let go of me,” she ground out, enunciating each word. He did, suddenly, and she stumbled backward just a bit.
“Bitch,” he seethed. Then he turned his drunken attention back to his buddies.
Rubbing her sore arm, she turned to walk back to the table when she saw the MacKennas, all three of them, heading in her direction. The looks on their faces told her that they'd seen the exchange, and there was going to be hell to pay. Logan had murder in his eyes.
Brooke stopped them at the halfway point, and tried to diffuse the situation before it actually became one. After a couple of minutes and some reasoning, she'd managed to calm them down. Well, two of the trio anyway. Logan was not easily placated. She practically had to beg him to let it go. She seemed pretty upset over the idea of him fighting, so in the end, he reluctantly shrugged it off.
He'd watched her from the time she'd gotten up and made her way around the bar, socializing. He had to admit, even if only to himself, that he'd been insanely jealous. Not that she'd been flirting, but he didn't like one bit the attention she received from the opposite sex. It pissed him off.
“I never liked that asshole,” he grumbled.
“Big asshole,” she put in, and flashed him a smile. He looked down at her and chuckled, his stormy mood lifting a little. She'd never been one to use profanities, so it struck him as funny.
The band had just taken a short break, and a slow song came on. Brooke linked her fingers with his and led him to the dance floor.
“Dance with me,” she commanded, draping her arms around his neck and moving her body in close to his. After a few seconds, he gave in and placed his hands on her hips. They listened to the lyrics as they swayed to the music, each of them content with the silence. Over the speakers, Trisha Yearwood belted out a beautiful ballad about love, and wondered how she would ever live without her man. Brooke tipped her head up to look at Logan.
“There, now that's not so bad, is it?” she teased.
His lips twitched as he looked down at her. She was breathtakingly beautiful. Holding her like this felt good, he had to admit. She was warm and smelled of honeysuckle. Her fragrance was always different, he noticed. She was apparently one of those women who wore a different perfume each and every day, the way some woman did shoes.
He smiled when she rested her cheek against his chest. Although she'd had only three drinks, he knew she was feeling a little fuzzy. He could tell by the slightly glazed look in her eyes and by the way she had relaxed. He moved his hands from her hips to close his arms around her waist, and pulled her closer. She didn't object.
It was nice, she decided. She loved being this close to him. She could feel the beat of his heart, and thought that it beat just a little bit faster. His skin was warm, and his hard-muscled body, from his chest and arms all the way down to his thighs, touched hers, rubbed erotically against her as they moved together.
The fire that built between them seemed to crackle in the air around them. His desire for her was intense, and it was all he could do to try and reign it in. She felt the evidence of it against her pelvis.
Brooke looked up at him, and was secretly thrilled to see the unmistakeable need reflected in his eyes. She loved the fact that he wanted her.
Her own desire began to build, and she struggled to put aside the undeniable attraction she felt for him.
Sex between them had always been incredible, and it was something he remembered too well. But he didn't want his mind to wander in that direction, especially in the middle of the dance floor in front
of a bar full of people. When the song ended, he took her hand and led her back to their table.
“Would you like another drink?” Logan asked her.
“I'll have a spritzer, if you're heading to the bar.” He eyed her curiously. “Three's my limit,” she said. “I'm not a drinker.” She'd noticed that he'd nursed only a few beers the entire night. She was glad that he wasn't a drinker, either. In fact, she'd only seen him really drunk once in her entire life, and it had been ugly. It was the night of the End of the Year party when they were in college, the same night he'd betrayed her and broken her heart. The same night all of her hopes and dreams had been shattered. She tried to push all of those unpleasant memories out of her mind, and concentrate on enjoying herself in the here and now.
Logan came back, handing her a large glass. She sipped, and smiled. “Thanks,” she said.
“My pleasure.”
Karissa, who had been mingling, returned to the table and sat down. She looked around, and spotted Seth on the other side of the dance floor, a pretty brunette on his arm. Karissa recognized her as the cousin of one of their oldest friends. She'd met her earlier in the evening, and thought she seemed nice enough. The brunette threw her head back and laughed at something Seth said, and Karissa began to feel little pin pricks of jealousy. Not that she had a right to be jealous. She and Seth were friends, and that's all they'd ever been to each other. She didn't care at all for these feelings. They made her miserable.
Seth had been trying to get away from the brunette for the past ten minutes. She was nice enough, he supposed, and certainly attractive, but he just wasn't interested. At one time, he would have taken her home with him and had her in his bed all night long. But meaningless sex wasn't what he was after. Not that he'd ever been a man whore, like Chase, because that was far from the case, but he'd had a few one-night-stands in his past. Especially when he'd been in the U.S. Marine Corps and was on leave. It was an easy thing to find any number of willing females. But he was older now, and had matured. And he realized that he wanted something more. After making one final excuse, the very disappointed brunette reluctantly conceded. Seth eased away and made his way back to the table. Karissa, lost in thought, was taken by surprise when he took her hand and pulled her toward the dance floor.
Bust A Move, by Young MC had come blaring through the speakers. The crowd erupted in shouts and whistles. “Let's show these amateurs how it's done, Rissa,” he shouted over the noise. She laughed and followed him onto the dance floor. Seth had always been an excellent dancer. At school dances, he'd have everyone gathered around him in a circle, she remembered, yelling his name and cheering him on. Hip-hop had been his style back then. Some things never changed, she mused, watching him now. She had to give it to him, though, he definitely had moves.
“Showoff,” she teased, as he pulled her toward him when a slow sang came on next. He wrapped his arms around her waist as they swayed to the music.
“I think I may be getting too old for that,” Seth said, enjoying the moment. He'd finally gotten his breath back.
“You? Never,” Karissa said, teasingly. He threw his head back and laughed. The rich sound of it carried to Brooke, who watched them from her seat at the table. She liked seeing her sister laughing and having a good time. Happy. It looked good on Rissa, she thought. And just as good on Seth, she decided.
They looked amazing together, she realized. She decided then and there that she had to do something to push this flirtation along. Not that there was anything wrong with flirting, but that phase should have been long over for them. How long did they intend to wait before one of them made the first move, anyway? she wondered, as they made their way back to the table and took their seats across from her and Logan.
Logan, who had been sitting there quietly listening to the music, and watching Brooke watching Seth and Karissa, leaned closer to her and whispered in her ear. “I'd just leave it alone if I were you,” he said. She turned her head to look at him.
“I'm sure I don't know what you mean,” she replied, trying her best to appear innocent.
“And I'm sure you do.” His eyes were a dark green, and he smiled as he watched her.
“The last thing the two of them need is interference. If it's meant to happen, then it simply will.”
“Alright, what do you know?” Brooke's eyebrows narrowed suspiciously.
“I know nothing. Except for what I've observed, that is.” He could be so infuriating, she decided. He never used to be. She wasn't sure how much she liked this new side of him.
“And what is it that you've observed? Brooke asked sweetly. Her curiosity was really piqued now.
“Oh, nothing you would be interested in knowing.”
“Oh, come on, Logan,” she complained. He just smiled and nursed his beer. She was tempted to smack that smile off his smug face. But that would hardly be acceptable, she thought, frowning into her spritzer.
The band came back from their break, and went right into their set. Brooke listened to the music, thinking how just a little push might be what Seth and Karissa needed. What did Logan know about relationships, anyway? Except for how to destroy them, that is, she thought.
Chase, who was feeling no pain at this point, came back to the table. “Calling it a night, guys,” he said. “I'll catch you boys tomorrow. Dinner at mom and dad's, don't forget,” he said to his brothers. They both nodded their agreement. “Night, ladies,” he drawled, looking from Karissa to Brooke. He looked over his shoulder to where the buxom blonde was waiting near the door. He looked back at Brooke and said, “It's not too late to change your mind, darlin'. All you need to do is say the word.” He smiled, flashing perfectly white teeth, and wiggled his eyebrows. She laughed, because he warmed her heart.
“Night, Chase,” she said, smiling sweetly.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He was still smiling as he walked away.
“I swear, he doesn't think with anything but his dick,” Seth commented.
“What's the flavor of the week?” Logan wanted to know.
“Cotton candy.” Seth said, his lips twitching. They all burst into laughter. Seth ran a hand through his dark hair and leaned back comfortably in his chair.
Brooke thought about the MacKenna boys, at the time when they were kids, growing up wild and carefree. Then she thought about each of them the way they were now, and the men they had become. Sometimes it still astounded her to realize that so much time had passed. One minute they were all young and the next, they were adults with responsibilities. How she wished they could go back to that time.
Brooke glanced at her wrist watch. It was going on midnight. “I suppose we should call it a night, too,” Brooke said.
“Yeah, it's getting late,” Seth put in. “We should get going, too.” Both he and Logan stood.
“We'll walk you out,” Logan said.
Brooke handed her car keys to Karissa. “I know it's only a few blocks, but would you mind driving, Riss?” Karissa had had only one alcoholic drink the entire night, which had been when they'd first gotten there.
“Sure,” she said. “Brooke's spending the night at my place,” she said, sure that they'd already figured that out for themselves.
“Thanks for the dance,” Logan said, and leaned down to kiss her cheek.
“You're welcome,” she replied, surprised that he would kiss her, even if it was a chaste peck on the cheek. She glanced over to where Karissa and Seth were chatting a few feet away and noticed them noticing her and Logan.
They said their goodbyes, and Brooke slipped into the passenger seat, while Karissa got behind the wheel. They waved as the guys crossed the parking lot to their cars. Her head felt a little fuzzy and her chest was warm, like a dull burn. She closed her eyes and let all thoughts disappear from her mind. Thank God she wasn't a drinker, she mused, as her sister guided the car in the direction of Locust Lane. She was asleep before they reached Karissa's place.
It was a beautiful Sunday. Brooke had slept until nearly noon. It was
unheard of. She couldn't believe the time when she'd awoken. Karissa had been up, showered, and had gotten half a dozen things done by the time Brooke rolled out of bed. Long periods of time with very limited sleep caught up with you after a while, she supposed.
Brooke showered and dressed. She'd brought an overnight bag with her, so she had all of the necessities. The hot shower did wonders for her stiff neck and equally stiff back. Now, she and Karissa sat on Karissa's terrace, soaking up the warmth as they ate lunch. The tuna wrap was delicious, and Brooke realized that she was famished. She sipped iced tea between bites. Karissa was uncharacteristically quiet, and Brooke wondered what the crease between her eyebrows was all about. Time to do a little digging, she thought. Frankly, she surprised herself that she had been able to hold off with the probing for as long as she had.
“What's the matter,” Brooke asked, looking pointedly at her sister.
“What do you mean?” Karissa said. “Nothing's the matter.”
“Au contraire.” Brooke pointed a French manicured finger at Karissa. “Something's going on with you.” She waited, but Karissa said nothing. “You can tell me, honey.” Her voice took on a softer tone.
Karissa looked up from her plate, and met Brooke's eyes. “I just have a lot on my mind, that's all. Worrying about mom, keeping up with things at the shop....” she trailed off.
“And mooning over Seth MacKenna,” Brooke finished for her.
Karissa's mouth opened, then closed. “What are you talking about?” she asked. She knew her voice would betray her, and she was certain her eyes would. She'd never been able to keep anything from Brooke. She just knew things.
“How long have you known?” Brooke asked, her voice soft and sympathetic.
“Known what?” Karissa asked, confused.
“That you're in love with Seth.” Brooke saw the surprise cross her sister's pretty face. “Don't bother denying it, Rissa. I know you better than anyone else knows you, and I know what I see.”
She sighed deeply.“For about half my life,” she admitted. “But really in love with him? The past year or so, I guess. At least, since I've felt this,” she said, holding a hand to her heart. It was Brooke's turn to be surprised.
Second Chance at Love (The MacKenna Born & Bred Trilogy) Page 7
