Sugar Mountain Christmas Bride (The Mountain Men of Linewsworth)
Page 2
Though, looking at Brooks right now, all I can think about is his other hammer.
I unzip my jacket, suddenly feeling kinds of hot and bothered. My throat has gone dry. So why am I thinking about Brooks’ bits? This is not the time.
“I don’t have Wi-Fi up here or I’d show you my website, my portfolio if that’s what you’re after. But I must say, I usually build homes, not gazebos.”
“Arbor,” I clarify. “Not a gazebo.”
Brooks chuckles. “You’re the bride, whatever you say goes.”
I frown. “I’m not the bride.”
“No? Uh…” he turns in a circle, looking for something, or someone. “Sorry, my parents said Noelle was coordinating all this. I assumed it was you. But maybe there is another Noelle getting married on this mountain next week?”
“No, I mean, I’m planning the wedding, I’m just not the bride.”
Brooks lifts his eyebrows. “You’re the best friend.”
I nod. “Yeah, I’m the maid of honor. It’s Sophia’s wedding.”
Brooks seems to be biting back a smile. “I see, that makes more sense.”
“What does?” I ask, frowning. And freaking freezing. I’ve been out here way too long.
“Nothing,” he says, lifting his hands in the air as if asking for a pass.
I cross my arms. “I’m waiting.”
“Okay,” he laughs. “My mom mentioned that you were a little bossy.”
I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. I can deal with intense. “I’ve been called worse by men, I suppose.”
Brooks smiles. “Such as?”
I twist my lips, never being one to hold back. “Rigid. Overly organized. Freakishly focused. You know, those charming qualities most men would die to get in bed.” I smack my hand over my mouth. Did I seriously just say that to a stranger?
He laughs though. “Okay, so you are a woman who speaks her mind. I like it.” Then he looks me over. “For the record, my dad called you bridezilla. But I don’t see it.”
I swallow. “No?”
“Nah,” he laughs. “More like the bride of Frankenstein.”
“Haha,” I deadpan, sticking a hand on my hip. “That’s fun and all, but you’re here to work, not joke around.”
He shakes his head. “Is that what this was?”
“What would call it?”
His eyes crinkle in the corners. “Flirting?”
I roll mine. “Name calling isn’t flirting.”
He nods. “I see that, so what you need is a pet name? Is that it?”
“I don’t need anything from you.”
He reaches for the belt around his waist that is wielding a hammer. “Except my tools.”
I swallow, there is that dry throat again. Why does his hammer get me so flustered? Oh, probably because it’s been more than a long time since I’ve held one.
We’re talking years.
“To build the arbor?” he adds, grinning like he is reading my mind.
“Right. The arbor.”
I turn on my heels, with him following. I am just going to show him the location of where the wedding vows will be made and hightail it out of here. I’m freezing cold and as nice as it sounds, I’m guessing this man -- this father — isn’t going to be the one warming me up anytime soon.
Chapter Three
Brooks
I follow her to the spot where she wants the arbor, but I can’t focus on the scenery or the views. My eyes? They are on her. She made me smile at the bakery, but now, her sassy little attitude has me all spun up.
She is more than a sugar cookie, she’s a salted caramel tease and I like it. I want it.
Shaking my head, I try to focus on anything but her cute little butt. Damn, it’s been so long.
“So, what do you think?” she asks, her arms spread wide. “This is the spot.”
“Right here?” I ask, cocking one eyebrow. “This exact spot?”
“Yes. Right here.” She points with her toe to a spot on the snow.
“It’s gonna be tricky,” I say, accessing the ground. “It’s not even, and it makes more sense to build it closer in, I mean, this cliff is no joke.” My eyes peer over the massive edge.
“No, it has to be here,” she insists.
“Because it’s what Sophia wants?” I roll my eyes. “And what’s the groom think?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. James is…” She exhales, waving a hand in the air. Her lips are pink, her eyes are blue and her cheeks so rosy she looks like a toy doll.
Just then, another car pulls up the parking lot and Noelle and I turn to see who is there.
“Oh,” her face lights up. “Well, you can ask them what they think yourself. They’re here.”
A couple walks toward us. Noelle waves and calls out for Sophia and I try to make heads and tails about this arrangement. I’ve never been married myself, but I think it’s pretty unusual for a bride to hand off her wedding to her friend.
“I didn’t think you were coming out until tomorrow morning,” Noelle says giving Sophia a hug. “It’s’ so good to see you though. There were a ton of last-minute things to decide.”
Sophia lifts her eyebrows and even though I don’t know her at all, her smile seems forced. “Well, James and I both got off work a few days early, and so there was no reason to wait.” She rolls her eyes. “And James insisted.”
The man next to her, wearing a polished pair of loafers and a fancy wool coat — looking utterly out of place here, scowls. “It’s a little rude to make Noelle do all the work, Sophia. God.” His jaw is tight, and the pair looks like they are ready to claw one another’s eyes out.
“Well,” Noelle says, clapping her hands and turning their attention to me. “This is Brooks. He’s building the arbor… and we were just talking about where it should go.”
“Whatever you think,” James says, pulling out his phone. “Dammit, why is there no reception out here? I have clients to speak with. And email to check.”
I snort, refusing to engage with that douchebag. “Like I said, Noelle. The edge of the cliff will make it tricky.”
“What do you think Sophia?” Noelle asks the bride. “Martin, the park director, says it might be too hard to have the ceremony up here anyway because there is not adequate parking.”
Sophia blows air out of her cheeks. “Do we have to decide like right now?”
Noelle bites her bottom lip and I can tell she is holding back. “Well, the thing is, the wedding is in a few days. And I know you have deferred to me on a bunch of it since you’ve been in Seattle… but it’s your wedding Sophia. What do you want? The ceremony here on the mountain or in the lodge where the reception is going to be held?”
Sophia looks over at James who just shrugs, he’s got his phone above his head, trying to get a signal. “Whatever is easiest.”
“In that case, you don’t need me,” I say, noticing the way Noelle’s face has fallen with this decision. She really wanted the ceremony out here. “Unless there’s something you need to be built at the lodge?”
“Are we done here?” James calls. He is already at his car. “I’m starving.”
Sophia and Noelle stare in silent conversation, but I’m so put off by this weird dynamic I refuse to butt in.
“Okay, James,” Sophia finally groans. “We’ll go. But Noelle is coming with.”
“Actually,” Noelle says. “I’m just going to head to the lodge for a sec and check on a few measurements. Make sure all the chairs fit in the space.”
“You sure? We can go to the pub and catch up.”
“It’s fine. James seems…”
Sophia rolls her eyes as we all begin walking toward the small parking lot. “Needy? Annoying? Obnoxious?”
Noelle just smiles. “You’re such a brat. I was going to say on the verge of hangry.”
“You’re way too generous.” Sophia leans in and kisses Noelle on the cheek. I notice the large diamond glittering on her ring finger and she pulls in her maid of hon
or for a hug. “Don’t forget, my dad flies in tomorrow. We can all meet up for lunch or something?”
“Text me,” Noelle says, as we all reach our cars. Sophia and James pull away and it’s just me and Noelle again. I have so many questions for her — like what the hell is she getting out of this relationship, but it’s none of my business.
“So, you don’t need my help?” I ask, wanting an excuse to stay here, with her, a little bit longer.
Noelle twists her lips, a smile forming. “I know you said you were good with a hammer, but how about a measuring tape?”
“Oh,” I say. “I measure long.”
Her mouth drops into an O, but she likes it. She pushes her hand on my chest, laughing, “You are trouble, Brooks. But I like your confidence.”
“Good,” I say with a smirk. “Now show me how you’d like me to use my hands.”
Chapter Four
Noelle
By the time we’ve finished measuring the lodge, it’s dark out. After our parking lot innuendos, I was nervous that I’d be too flustered to continue the conversation, but we focused on the work at hand and we didn’t stray beyond feet and inches and I made notes on the paper on my clipboard.
“Thank you,” I tell Brooks as I push my notepad back in my tote bag.
“No problem. Measuring this space was easier than making that arbor.”
“True,” I say, wistfully. The ceremony would have looked way better on the cliff, but who am I? Just a bridesmaid. “Can I at least buy you a drink for sticking around?”
“Sure,” he says. “But you have to tell me where to go, I’m new in town.”
We walk out of the lodge and I lock it with the key Martin gave me. I’m trusted with it for the next week until the wedding is over.
I tell him to follow me and then I get in my little SUV and start driving into town. I’m just beginning to warm up as the heat is finally kicking in, but my stomach is growling, and it wins out over warmth. I lock up the car and head to a pub on the corner.
This Bavarian town is brimming with bars, and I pick one that’s not very busy, and that I know Sophia won’t visit. Even though I’m dying to catch up with my best friend — and maybe cross-examine her to figure out what’s the deal between her and James.
But right now. I kind of like the idea of holding Brooks’ attention for myself.
When a waitress tells us to find a seat, we slide into a booth, and I catch Brooks’ eye. He looks so ruggedly handsome, his cheeks a little red from the cold, his flannel shirt rolled up to his elbows and his thick beard reminding me that he is a real man. All man.
“So, what’s good here?” he asks, reaching for the menu.
I lick my lips. “Every pub in this town touts their German sausages and lager.”
“You like sausage.”
I cough, wishing I had a cool glass of water. “I love them,” I finally say.
He runs a hand over his beard, trying to gauge my tone. “Good to know.”
A waitress swings by and I’m able to avoid forming a response to Brooks by ordering a bratwurst, fries, and beer. “I’ll have the same,” Brooks says. After she’s brought us back our pints, he lifts his to mine. “To love.”
My eyes widen.
“Sophia and James, their love?” Brooks adds, knowing his words are making me squirm. What’s the deal with him? He makes me all nervous and on edge. It’s not my typical disposition.
“Right, to the happy couple.” We take a drink, and I avoid his gaze. I know he has a question on the tip of his tongue.
“So,” he says. “What is their deal, anyway?”
“Sophia and James?”
“Yeah,” he chuckles. “They seemed a little tense.”
“It’s just pre-wedding jitters,” I say, telling Brooks the same thing I’ve been telling myself. “They have high-pressure jobs and are really overwhelmed.”
His brows furrow as the waitress brings us our meal. “Seems like you’ve taken on a lot for them. It looks like they’re using you.”
I shake my head, knowing that’s not it at all. “I love to help. Especially after everything Sophia has done for me.”
He cocks his head to the side. “Like getting a free wedding planner?”
“I know she comes off a little… unfriendly, but her family has done so much for me over the years, and I will do anything to thank them.”
“What did they do?” Brooks asks.
I pick up a fry as I try to think of how to reply. “It’s kinda sad for Christmas.”
“Sorry,” he says, pulling back. “It’s not my place to ask.”
“It’s fine. I mean, everyone in town already knows. It’s no secret. When I was a senior in high school my parents died in a car crash. I had no family and so Sophia’s father took me in. She was my best friend.”
“I’m so sorry,” he says, reaching across the table, his hand on mine. “That’s so tragic.”
I smile softly, remembering my parents. “Yeah, my parents died on Christmas Eve. So...” I shake my head. “Planning the wedding has two motivations. One, helping my best friend who did so much for me, and two, it keeps me distracted at a tough time of year.”
“I’m sorry, Noelle. That’s really rough, you’ve been through hell.” His eyes search mine, and I feel his words deep in my heart.
“Have you lost anyone you love?” I ask.
He eyes darken and he runs his thumb over the skin of my hand. “Scout’s mom died in childbirth.”
“Oh, my god,” I say.
“Jill and I weren’t together, it was a one-time thing when she got pregnant, but we planned on raising Scout together. I’d been with her throughout the pregnancy, so even though we weren’t in love, we cared for one another deeply. We were going to be raising a daughter together, so it meant something to us. Losing her the same day as Scout entered the world… it changed me.”
“How?”
“No one ever asks me that,” he says. “I think they assume they know. That losing Jill that way made life more precious, more sacred. And it did — but also…” He pauses, runs a hand over his beard.
“A little scared of love?” I ask with his hand still on mine.
“Exactly. There are no guarantees. Now my heart’s cold.” He smirks. “I’ve gotten all jaded and bitter.”
I look down at our hands. Brooks doesn’t seem jaded to me. Maybe a little bit lonely and like he could use a hug. Or more.
“Well,” I tell him. “It looks like you love your daughter quite a lot, so your heart’s not completely black. And you love your parents if you were willing to fill in for your dad today.”
“Yeah, well, Scout needed her grandparents at Christmas. They just moved here this summer.”
I nod, taking a mother sip of beer. “That’s why I haven’t seen you.”
He lifts an eyebrow. “Would you have remembered?”
I smile. “I might have.” We begin eating our meal and I try to steady my beating heart. I never get this real and personal with people, so fast. But Brooks is different. He asks the right questions.
“So, you’ve gotta tell me,” he says as the waitress brings us another round. “What is the deal with the arbor? I saw the plans you gave my dad. They were particular.”
I sigh. “It’s super sentimental. And probably dumb.”
He frowns. “I don’t think anything you plan could be dumb.”
I laugh. “Except for practically pushing the happy couple off the mountain.”
He laughs. “It would have worked. It wouldn’t have been easy, but I can still build it if you really want.”
I shake my head. “No, it was wasted on James and Sophia anyways. They don’t care.”
“What was wasted?”
“The romance of it.” I lean over the table and rest my chin in my hand. “My dad proposed to my mom at that spot. Growing up, I always thought it was the most romantic thing in the world. Making promises at the top of a mountain.”
I expect Brooks to m
ake a joke, but he doesn’t. “That’s really fucking sweet, Noelle.”
“You’re just saying that,” I say, brushing him off. I’ve never been good with compliments.
“No, I’m not. I love that you see the value in that. That you believe commitment matters. It does to me too. My parents have been happily married for thirty years. They had me the first year they got married and are the happiest couple I’ve ever met.”
“Mine would have given them a run for their money,” I say. “My parents’ love was so deep, so real. We never had money. We grew up in the trailer park across town, but that never mattered. When we were together, it was like we had everything. Love was everywhere.”
Somehow, his hand is back on mine and if there wasn’t a table between us, I don’t know what we might get up to. Well, I think I know. The air is charged & electric; the moment hot. His eyes sear into mine. “Do you want to get out of here?” he asks, his fingers warm against mine. I want to see what else is warm against me. I’m guessing all of him.
I nod. “Where are you staying?”
He chuckles. “My parents.”
“Right.” I bite my bottom lip. “This might sound forward, and I swear I never do this, but, um, do you want to come to my place?”
He lays cash on the table, reaches for his coat. “Damn, I thought you’d never ask.”
Chapter Five
Brooks
“Don’t judge me,” she says as we walk up the steps to her home. “The wedding kinda threw up all over my house.”
It’s one side of a duplex and when we step inside, I laugh. “God, you are a really good fucking friend.”
She cringes as we sidestep piles of white tulle, piles of placards, and dozens of red velvet bows. “I know. And the thing is, I don’t think Sophia has any idea what it means to actually put on a wedding.”
“How long have you been working on it?”
“They got engaged in September. So, a few months.”