The club members assembled in the living room and Brooke’s curiosity was more than piqued. It was in full bloom.
“Why don’t I go put the kettle on for coffee and tea,” she offered, gesturing to BethAnn to join her guests.
As she passed, Myra reached out and caught her hand. “It’s you we came to see, Brooke. Please. We don’t need anything. Sit and join us.”
“All right.” Brooke lowered herself into the upholstered chair by the fireplace. She refused to surrender to the familiar dread threatening to pool in her stomach. It had been weeks since she’d arrived back in Butterfly Harbor. She really thought she’d made progress with the town, with the Cocoon Club. Now, looking at each of their serious expressions, she wasn’t so sure.
“Penny?” Myra prodded.
“Right.” Penny took a deep breath. “We want to apologize—”
“We?” Elliot corrected with a stern grimace.
“Some of we. All right. Me, especially.” Penny shook her head as if gathering her thoughts. “We weren’t fair, not giving you a chance when you first got here. Not to make excuses—”
“Then don’t.” Myra laid a hand on her friend’s hand. “What she’s trying to say, Brooke, is that we were wrong to treat you the way we did. We never should have presumed to judge your motives for coming home.”
Coming home. Brooke blinked, not entirely sure what to think.
“With what happened before,” Polly tried to explain further. “Maybe we all wanted to believe you weren’t any different from your parents. We let our anger with your father cloud our judgment about you.”
Brooke heard the sincerity in Polly’s voice and gave the older woman an understanding smile. “If it helps, I can tell you he regretted his role in what happened at the bank here in Butterfly Harbor.”
“What was his role exactly?” Penny’s eyes narrowed in interest.
“I’m afraid he never got into details,” Brooke admitted. “He did say he’d been misguided and even goaded into doing things he knew weren’t best for the town or its residents. If he’d had more time, I have no doubt he’d have come back himself to try to make amends.” It was a mistake she’d been determined not to make herself.
“Fine.” Oscar sat up straighter on the sofa and tapped his hand on his walker. “What’s past is past. We move on from here. That’s why we brought you a peace offering.”
“A what?” Brooke looked toward the large wrapped box sitting on the coffee table.
“For your new apartment,” Polly said. “We heard you’re moving into the space above the diner today. We thought you could use this.”
“Oh.” Brooke couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face. She stood and quickly unwrapped the package, tears burning her throat when she saw the brand new coffee maker.
“It’s nothing fancy,” Myra said. “Holly suggested the brand and model.”
“It’s perfect. Thank you so much.” Brooke let out a small laugh. “My father bought me a similar one for my first apartment. That makes this extra special. There’s just one thing,” she added at their approving nods. “I’ll need lots of practice with it, so I’d be happy if you’d stop by occasionally and have a cup.”
“We can do that,” Penny said. “Now to get down to business.”
“What business?” BethAnn asked with a suspicious tone.
“How are things going with Mandy, dear?” Polly asked, her eyes as wide as saucers.
“Tread carefully,” BethAnn whispered as she lifted the box and set it by the door with Brooke’s suitcase.
“Um, well. Pretty well. She’s started to call me Mom. Not all the time,” she added quickly. “But occasionally.”
“That’s wonderful,” Myra said. “What about Sebastian?”
“Sebastian calling me Mom would be creepy,” Brooke tried to joke.
“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Myra joked in kind. “Are you and he—”
“No.” Brooke wondered when she could admit that without more than a dull pang of regret. “Whatever was there, he’s moved past it. He doesn’t trust me. Given what happened, I can’t blame him.” All the more reason for Brooke to keep her attention on Mandy and build a solid foundation with her daughter. “What’s with those looks?” She waggled a finger between Myra and Penny. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Oscar said quickly when the doorbell rang again. “BethAnn, I think I’d like some coffee, after all.”
“It’s like Grand Central Station today,” BethAnn said and returned to the front door. “Sebastian! We were just talking about you.”
Brooke felt her cheeks warm when he stepped into the foyer and caught her gaze.
“Hi.” He flashed that smile of his, that knee-weakening, dimple-enhanced, eye-twinkling smile that had, eventually, led to Mandy’s conception. “I’m subbing for Mandy. She can’t make it to help you move into your apartment.”
Subbing for Mandy? “I didn’t realize...” Brooke joined him, gesturing at her meager collection of belongings. “I doubt I’ll need any help.”
“But, of course, you do,” Myra chided and pushed up from the sofa. “BethAnn, how about I help you with that coffee?”
Brooke stepped back as Penny and Polly followed Myra into the kitchen. Elliot tugged at the collar of his shirt again, probably to ease the pressure of his suddenly red face. “Ladies always need help moving,” he said. “At least that’s how we did things in my day.”
Brooke grinned. The Cocoon Club had moved from surveillance duty to matchmaking at light speed. “Really, it’s not necessary.” She turned apologetic eyes on Sebastian. “I’ve got my car—”
“And I’ve got the day off,” Sebastian said, either not understanding what was going on or he didn’t care. Either way this was awkward. “Willa’s at the store and we have the barbecue at Hunter and Kendall’s later. You are going, right?”
“We all are,” Oscar announced. “We’re teaching the young’uns to play boccie ball. Brooke, you’re attending, aren’t you? All the more reason to have some help with the move. Wouldn’t want to be late.”
Brooke cleared her throat. Darn it! She’d finally accepted that whatever she and Sebastian had shared began and ended with Mandy, and now, here he was, acting in a way that made him attractive to her all over again. “What about my car?”
“I’ll follow you over,” Sebastian said and hefted the coffee maker into his arms.
“You’re not leaving already, are you?” BethAnn asked when she came out of the kitchen. “I thought we could all sit and talk awhile.”
Brooke faced her godmother. “Uh...we’ve all talked enough for now.” The sooner she got Sebastian out of here, the better for both of them. “I’ll meet you outside,” she told Sebastian and watched him head down the walkway. “Stop it, all of you.”
“Stop what?” Myra blinked.
“You know what,” Brooke said and, feeling her heart tip, reached out and hugged the older woman. “But I appreciate the approval.” It was almost as good as earning back the man she still loved.
She bid farewell to the rest of the Cocoon Club, assured them that she would be seeing them at the barbecue and picked up her suitcase.
“One thing.” BethAnn caught her arm before she could close the door behind her. “Don’t make your father’s mistake, Brooke. Don’t miss any opportunity to grab a little bit of happiness. Don’t pile up regrets. Who knows?” She shrugged. “Today might be a good time to start over for both of you.”
Brooke’s heart didn’t stop hammering as she climbed into her car. She kept peeking looks in the rearview mirror, as if Sebastian was going to get lost in his own town. He pulled into the alley between the diner and the glass shop next door, hefted her coffee maker out of the back of her SUV and followed her up the stairs.
“You really didn’t have to do this.” Brooke
managed to avoid his gaze as she dug for her keys. “I can manage fine from here.”
“Mandy wasn’t supposed to help you, was she?”
What did she say to that? “I don’t remember making specific plans.”
“Right.”
“I didn’t set this up,” she countered. The last thing she needed was for him to think she didn’t respect his decision about them not pursuing anything...romantic.
“I know you didn’t.”
Brooke shielded her eyes against the sun. Did he? “I don’t want to make things even more weird between us, Sebastian.”
“I don’t want them to be weird at all.”
Fat chance of that. “If we just focus on Mandy, we should be fine.”
“Agreed. Mandy is our common ground.”
“Right, well.”
Sebastian grimaced. “It’s now clear our daughter has gotten it into her head that we need to get back together.”
“Has she?” Brooke finally looked at him and instantly wished she hadn’t. She couldn’t keep up this ping-pong game with her heart. It was taking a lot of effort on her part to accept she and Sebastian were only going to be friends.
“You didn’t get the hint when she brought you to the boat?”
“No.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “I was so happy she invited me along I didn’t give you any consideration.” Why would she have? That would have been getting her hopes up. Still, the thought that their daughter was hoping they’d reunite was almost thrilling enough to dispel the disappointment of reality. “I’m assuming you talked to her about this?”
He shrugged.
“You can’t have it both ways, Sebastian,” Brooke snapped. “You can’t tell me you don’t see a future for us and encourage Mandy to trick us into being together. Pick one.”
“You’re right.” He shifted the box in his arms. “Forget I mentioned it.”
“Yeah, that’ll be easy. To clarify—no, Mandy didn’t say anything.” She huffed out a breath. “For the record, I’d never—I don’t manipulate people. I may be a lot of things, but I am not my mother.”
“You’re right.” He glanced at her. “I apologize. I’m not exactly sure about anything these days. That was out of line. Mandy’s probably picking up on our chemistry.”
Given Sebastian was the kind of man who could flip on a dormant light bulb simply by walking into a room, Brooke snorted. “A lack of chemistry was never our problem.”
“No.” Sebastian grinned and shot her a look. “I don’t suppose it was. Honesty, on the other hand—”
“Where’s this conversation going, Sebastian?”
“I don’t know.” He scrubbed a hand across his jaw. “This is coming out all wrong. It’s just with Mandy and you getting to know each other and the time we’ve been spending together... I don’t know,” he repeated. “Maybe I was wrong.”
“Wrong?” Wrong how?
“About us being friends.”
Being only friends with the man she’d been in love with most of her life was already one of the hardest things she’d ever done, but it had been...something. “You don’t want to be friends, then?” Lending a hand with her move to the apartment above the diner seemed an odd way to cut her out of his life completely.
“No. I mean... I don’t like how we left things.”
“Oh.”
He looked as if he expected her to say more, except what more could she say? “Can I ask you a question?” he asked.
“Of course.”
“Did you come back just to get to know Mandy?”
Was there any point of lying now? “No.”
His gaze flickered.
“No. I mean, yes,” she corrected. His verbal clumsiness had become contagious. “I came back mainly because of Mandy, but I was also hoping for something I’ve finally accepted I’ll never have.”
“Me?”
“You?” It took a moment for his question to sink in. “Wow. Grown an ego since I’ve been away, haven’t you?”
He grinned and flashed her a look that years ago would have struck her speechless. “Maybe.”
“No, Mr. Center of the Universe,” she said with a laugh. “As memorable as you are, it was more than you. More than...that. I came back hoping you could find a way to forgive me.”
“For leaving us?”
She bit her lip. “For the way I left.” She willed the conversation to end. “I took the coward’s way out, taking off without saying goodbye.” But it had been part of her mother’s deal—the deal that would keep Mandy and, more important, Sebastian, safe in Butterfly Harbor.
“So you’re not sorry you left.” The edge in his voice was back—an edge she suspected didn’t belong between friends...or whatever they were now.
She swallowed hard. “No. I’m not.” She reached to pick up her suitcase.
“Brooke,” he said and moved in front of her, tried to stop her when she dodged around him. “Darn it, Brooke, would you stop a minute and talk to me?”
“I don’t want to talk about this.” She dragged her bag up the back stairs, feeling her heart ache suddenly. “You’ve told me yourself that nothing I say can change what happened and it can’t. I left you and our daughter. I never looked back. I went on with my life without either one of you.” Every word she spoke made the aching worse; she wasn’t sure her heart could take it—a heart that she was pretty sure hadn’t started beating again until she’d seen Mandy in Cat’s Eye Bookstore. “Why do we have to dwell on this? Why does the why matter?”
“Because it never made any sense.” He followed, the coffee-machine box still in his arms. “You loved me, Brooke. I know that as sure as I know where I’m standing right now. I know you wanted the future we planned together.”
“I was nineteen. I didn’t know what I wanted.” She shoved her key in the lock and twisted the door open, then dragged her bag over the threshold.
“That’s your mother talking,” Sebastian accused.
“Hey. Again, this doesn’t all get to go your way, Sebastian.” Brooke had finally had enough. What? He was changing the rules on her now? “You can’t say let’s be friends one minute, then drag up all the things that you’ve convinced me we shouldn’t discuss. Ever since the accident I’ve been trying to get off this merry-go-round of a life I created for myself, to finally make a new start and forgive myself for the mistakes I’ve made, but you want to keep me on the ride. We either move beyond the past or we stay buried in it. You choose.” She yanked the box out of his arms and stomped into her apartment, barely resisting the temptation to kick the door shut in his face.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
SEBASTIAN STOOD ON the landing and watched Brooke carry her coffee maker into the kitchen. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her look so...angry. So irritated. Okay, so he wished he wasn’t the reason for all that, but it was something to be admired. The flush of color in her cheeks, the haughty attitude. This Brooke Ardell was almost, dare he say it, a revelation.
He stepped inside and closed the door. He could hear the distinct sound of her unpacking the coffee machine and washing it. “Where would you like your suitcase?”
“In the bedroom. Please.” The last word sounded a bit like a curse. Sebastian carried the bag down the short hallway to the right, past the bathroom and linen closet, and into the room with a giant window and a beautiful black wrought iron bed bookended by mismatched nightstands. A small dresser displayed a Tiffany-style lamp and in the far corner sat an antique writing desk that looked as if it had seen better centuries.
He lifted the suitcase onto the bed and returned to the living room, which wasn’t much bigger than the bedroom. “It’s cozy.” It also couldn’t be further from what she was used to.
“Do you want some coffee?”
“May as well give that machine a test run. Paige lived here f
or a while if I recall.” He strolled past the turquoise sofa and scarred coffee table, made note of the small flat-screen television across the room.
“That’s what Ursula told me.” Brooke joined him. “It’ll take a minute or two. I don’t have cream or sugar. Grocery shopping’s on my list for today.”
“What else is on your list?”
“It’ll take me all of five minutes to unpack my things, make the bed, arrange the towels and try out paint swatches on the wall.”
“Paint swatches?”
“Hmm.” Brooke walked over to the breakfast bar and plucked up a stack of thin card stock. “I offered to repaint for Holly. So she can rent this place out once I leave.”
“Right.” He’d needed the reminder she wasn’t going to be staying. He looked down at the samples, barely registering the soft yellows and sea tones. “You sure you can tackle this on your own? You remember the last time you tried to paint something?”
“Mandy’s nursery.” Brooke laughed and he smiled. “I was only doing it because someone said he kept running out of time.”
“Eight months pregnant and I find you on a stepladder. You scared ten years off me.” He skimmed a finger over the yellow that, until a few years ago, had still covered Mandy’s bedroom walls.
Brooke quickly glanced away, hugging her arms around herself. “It was a beautiful nursery, though.”
“Mandy liked it.”
Something beeped in the kitchen. “Coffee time.” She retreated, but instead of remaining behind with his memories, he followed.
“Was she a good baby? An easy baby?” Brooke slapped a pod into the machine, grabbed a chipped brown mug from the cabinet overhead and stuck it under the dispenser.
He heard the tightness in her voice. “She had her moments.”
“Tell me.” Brooke gripped the edge of the counter.
“She had recurring colic for a while. Sent me to the ER in a panic twice. We can forgo the stories of surprise projectile vomiting. Believe me.” He’d almost been tempted to buy drop cloths. “She was a good baby, Brooke. Happy. Determined. She took her first steps behind my back. Literally. I’d turned around to get something and she took exception to being ignored. Walked right up behind me and grabbed my pants. I turned around and almost fell over.”
A Match Made Perfect--A Clean Romance Page 16