Ethan says this like I know the details. And that’s not his fault. He thinks I do. But I can piece together enough from what he said at dinner and what he’s saying now. Brooke’s worried she can’t have children. And she thinks I want more.
I told her I want more.
I always pictured having four.
I blow out a breath. Ethan does too. Like this is all really tough for him.
“Brooke was pretty wrecked about it,” he says.
“I’ll bet.”
“She told me she needed time—to process her emotions and stuff—before she could even think about a game plan.” He puts the words process her emotions and game plan in air quotes. A real sensitive guy. “So I said not to worry. Her parents are rich enough to pay for whatever she wants to do.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Well. That was the wrong angle. Brooke flipped out on me. Quit her job. Moved up here. Married you.”
The entire time Ethan’s talking, my jaw’s getting tighter. Then my throat. Neck. Chest. I feel like I’m being strangled. Finally he notices.
“Hey there, Mac.” He narrows his eyes, peering up at me. “You okay?”
I swallow hard and something flickers behind his eyes.
“Is it the kid thing?” he asks.
A wave of sadness crashes in my gut. For how blindsided Brooke must’ve felt that day with her doctor. For what she’s been feeling ever since. No wonder she left teaching. She wanted some time away from kids. To clear her head. Think things through. She knew being around Daisy would complicate that. Skew her emotions. And probably hurt.
So she said no.
But I dangled the money she needed like a carrot to get what I wanted.
Just like Lenore.
Oh, man.
“I just want her.” I’m thinking this to myself, but I must say it out loud because Ethan responds.
“Right? Who needs kids anyway? They’re the worst.”
When I frown at him, Ethan tugs at his collar. “No offense. I mean, Daisy’s awesome.” He makes a face that’s so absurd, I can't help picturing a circus clown. Something breaks loose in me, and I start to laugh.
“What’s so funny?” he asks.
“You. Me. The Wallaces. This whole dinner. The play. All of it.” I nod in the direction of the house. “Brooke thought she had to prove to everyone that she has her life under control, but she’s the stable one. The rest of us are a mess.”
“Hey.” Ethan stretches his neck. “I don’t know about that, Mac.”
“Let me put it in terms a real sci-fi buff like you can understand.” I cock my head. “Brooke’s been walking around thinking she’s damaged, worrying she’s not good enough as she is. But we’re the ones with the aliens buried in us.”
“Right.” Ethan’s eyes widen. “Like when that thing bursts out of Kane’s chest?”
“Exactly.”
He grimaces. “Yeah, Brooke’s not perfect, but she’s no alien.”
“She is perfect.” I look out at the water again. “Brooke Wallace is the best thing that ever happened to me. And she’s enough. More than enough. She’s everything.”
Ethan shrugs. “Don’t tell me that. Tell her.”
“Oh, I intend to.”
“No, I mean tell her right now.” He cranes his neck over my shoulder. “She’s on her way down here.”
I spin around, and sure enough, Brooke’s at the top of the slope, heading toward us. Her parents and Daisy are with her. Lenore is smiling at me. Robert is frowning at Ethan. Daisy is just hopping.
I turn back to Ethan. “You know what? I was going to kick you out, but now I kind of hope you stick around. You can watch me kiss my wife.”
“Knock yourself out,” Ethan smirks.
“If you insist.”
I don’t plan to actually do it, but I raise a fist like I’m about to punch Ethan Clifton in the face.
“Whoa.” He takes two steps backward, loses his balance, and falls in the creek.
33
Brooke
My mom, dad, Daisy, and I are cresting the slope behind the house that leads to the water, when Ethan Clifton pinwheels backward and—SPLASH. He goes down. Hard.
My mother gasps. “His suit!”
My dad guffaws. “Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.”
Daisy hops over to me. “Book, why did the cook go swimming?”
“I don’t know, Daisy.” I snort. “Maybe he’s practicing for the Olympics?”
The four of us stand there, frozen, watching Ethan scramble to right himself. He yanks off his shoes one at a time and hurls them onto dry land. When he lets loose a string of curses that would make a sailor proud, I clap both my hands over Daisy’s ears.
“What’s he saying, Book?”
“Just that the water is … chilly.”
For a moment, I almost feel bad for him. After all, those Italian loafers and one-of-a-kind Armani are probably ruined. Plus, it must be pretty humiliating to know we all witnessed his klutziness. But then I recall the smugness on his face at dinner.
Karma’s a sinking ship, Ethan. No life preserver for you.
From twenty yards away, I can hear Mac say, “You all right down there? You didn’t crack your skull? Break a tailbone?”
“You afraid I’m going to sue you?”
Mac shakes his head. “Not afraid. No. Not afraid.”
Lucky for Ethan, Mac’s not the kind of guy who keeps other people down to feel better about himself. So instead of leaving him to marinate in his embarrassment, Mac plants a foot against the side of the shore, reaches out a hand—one big, strong, masculine, construction-worker hand—and hauls my ex-boyfriend from the creek.
(And for the record, I’d swear—under oath, in court, right now—the only thing better than watching Ethan’s literal downfall is watching my pretend husband be the bigger man.)
While Mac looms over Ethan, looking like a dry and dignified hero, Ethan shakes himself off like a wet dog.
“Need any help down there?” I call out.
Ethan shoots me a glare. “Shut up, Brooke!”
“Watch it,” Mac growls. “Do not speak to my wife that way.”
My stomach fills with butterflies. On second thought, maybe those are bees. Yes, I can definitely narrow this feeling down to the flutter of love or the fear of stings. Why? Because I have no idea what details Ethan shared with Mac. He might’ve made me out to be some kind of broken bird.
A woman to run away from, not to fall for.
And besides all that, what must Mac be thinking about me after meeting my crazy parents? Not to mention the jerk I used to date? I never should’ve put myself—or my parents or the Bradfords—in this position.
Fight or flight, Brooke. What’s it gonna be?
Absolutely flight.
I’m about to flee for the safety of the house when Mac starts heading up the slope.
“Hey, Brooke. Hold on a minute.”
We make eye contact and a single dimple creases his cheek.
Oof. Would you look at that man? He is smiling with his eyes.
No matter what he’s heard today, or figured out for himself, Mac doesn’t seem to be scared off. He knows about me.
And he’s not running.
For a moment I let myself hope—as risky as hope is—that there might be room for me in Mac’s life. That maybe I’m worthy of him and Daisy.
Maybe fake-marrying Mac Bradford wasn’t a huge mistake.
He ducks his head as he approaches. I want to throw my arms around him, but my dad claps him on the shoulder. “You’re a good man, Mac. And now it’s my turn to take out the trash.” My father marches down to the creek where Ethan—all spluttery and soaked—is peeling himself out of his jacket.
See you around, Buddy. Don’t let the creek splash you on your way out.
My mother, whose pant legs are already grass-stained, bends down to address Daisy. “Young lady. Why don’t the two of us go inside so the king and queen can chat.”
D
aisy hops up and down. “I can do my play for you!” She snatches my mother’s hand. “Come on, maid. This way to the show!”
As Daisy drags her across the lawn, my mother groans. Dramatically. “Slow down, little girl. Can’t you see I’m wearing heels?”
Once they’re out of earshot, I slowly turn to Mac. He smiles down at me. I smile up at him. In the stretch of silence, I hear the rush of the creek. The flap of bird wings. The throb of my heart. Finally I open my mouth, hoping some smart words might fall out, but I can’t even manage some dumb words, because my dad’s already back.
Gosh, the old man’s quick.
“Mac? Brooke? I’ve had a word with Mr. Clifton.” He glances back at Ethan who’s trailing behind him. “It appears he’ll be leaving us now. Apparently the matter is quite urgent.”
My father smothers a smile as Ethan stalks up to us, barefoot. His jacket is slung over one arm. He’s carrying his shoes, and his dress shirt clings to him. “Well, Mac, I’d say it was nice to meet you, but …” He spreads his arms to the side. Water drips from his sleeves.
Mac nods. “Understood.”
“So.” Ethan winces. “No hard feelings.”
“Ha!” I widen my stance. “I’ve got plenty of hard feelings, Ethan. Very hard. Right here.”
Ethan shrugs. “Sorry, Brookie.” He darts his eyes at Mac. “The best man definitely won.”
As Ethan trudges toward the house, I can’t resist a parting shot. “Come on back to visit in the springtime, when the creek is really full.”
My dad chokes on a laugh, then he clears his throat to compose himself. “Don’t worry about Ethan. I’ve already spoken to Jenkins. They’ll be heading to the airport now and taking the jet back to LA.” His gaze bounces from me to Mac. “I hope you don’t mind, Mac, but Lenore and I already told Brooke we’d like to stick around for a night or two.”
A grin spreads across Mac’s face. “That’s great news, Mr. Wallace. And you’re welcome to stay here.”
Fabulous. There’s only one guest room, Mac.
Did he forget my stuff is in there?
The two of us haven’t even had a chance to discuss when—or how, or if—we’re going to come clean to my parents about our elopement story.
“Umm, Mac?” I begin, but my father interrupts.
“Lenore and I wouldn’t dream of imposing on you two newlyweds. No, we’ll get a room somewhere in town.”
He pulls his phone from his suit pocket. “The Ritz Carlton must have vacancies on a Sunday.”
Mac chuckles. “No Ritz Carlton.”
“Hmm.” My dad squints up at him. “The Four Seasons, then?”
“Sir, the best you’ll do here in Apple Valley is the Granny Smith Inn. The place isn’t fancy, but the Wi-Fi is free. And I think they’ve got a ten-person hot tub.”
My father flinches. “Oh. I see. In that case—”
“You know what, Dad?” I jump in before he changes his mind and decides to stay here. “There are great places in Eugene. You can borrow the car Mac rented for me.”
My dad considers the offer. “The last time I drove myself, we were filming a scene on location. I believe Sebastian Steele was on his way to go bungee jumping.”
Mac grins. “The ten-person hot tub sounds less risky.”
“Yes, I’ll be sure to share that assessment with Lenore.” He glances around. “Speaking of which …”
“Mom’s already inside.” My mouth twitches. “Check the living room. She’ll be the one dressed in white, dying a thousand deaths while Daisy performs.”
“Well.” He barks out a laugh. “If there’s one thing your mother can’t get enough of, it’s ventriloquism!” His crooked grin is still visible, even in the fading light. “So. I guess I’ll see you two inside then. But please. Take your time. I’m really looking forward to an encore of Ragtime Cowboy Joe.” My dad walks back to the house, his bursts of laughter matching his stride.
The cool air makes me shiver. Mac’s right behind me now. Close enough to touch.
“Hi there,” I say, turning toward him. His scent washes over me. Wood. Leather. Spice.
“Hi there to you too.” When he takes my hands, light spreads from the tips of my fingers all the way down to my toes.
Whoa. What is this feeling?
Hey there, Brooke. It’s your old friend, Hope.
“So.” Mac’s voice is thick and gravelly. “You have some stuff to tell me about, huh? Important stuff.”
I bite my lip. “I do.”
He exhales. “Well, I’ve got things to tell you about me too. Before that, though, I need you to know something, Brooke.” He pauses. Swallows.
Oh my.
What do I need to know, Mac?
“First of all, I don’t care about anything Ethan said tonight.” Mac takes a beat and shifts his weight. “Wait. That came out wrong. I do care. I care about you. A lot.”
I’m afraid I might cry if I try to speak.
“More than anything, I just want you to be happy.” He squeezes my hands and my whole body trembles. “Because you already make me happy, Brooke. Everything about you. Just like this. You’re enough for me. More than enough.”
By now all the air has left my body, so I just blink. And blink. And blink.
His eyes bore into mine. “To me, you’re perfect.”
I don’t want to be perfect. I just want to be yours.
I raise myself on tip toes, face tilted up as he lowers his chin. When we’re a breath apart, I let go of his hands to wrap my arms around his neck. His hands move to my waist, strong and sure. Pulling me close. My fingers tangle in his hair. I draw him to me.
And then.
His mouth brushes mine. I taste his lips and this is real.
He is real.
I am real.
34
Mac
And now I’m kissing Brooke again. For the second time today. Our lips move together, then apart, then together again. It’s a slow and gentle dance. She’s so soft and warm, it would be easy to lose myself. But I hold back. Wait for her to deepen the kiss. When she does, my hands move up from her waist until I’m cupping her face. One palm on either side. Like she might disappear if I stop holding her. For the record, I don’t plan to stop holding her.
Eventually she pulls away to take a breath.
I take that moment to look in her eyes.
Can you tell that I love you, Brooke?
What would happen if I said the words out loud?
She leans into my kiss again. I slide a finger down her chin, tracing a path from her throat to her neck. Across the delicate bones of her shoulder. A minute later, when she comes up for air again, I let my mouth follow the trail. The whole time, I’m breathing her in. Tasting her skin. Sweet like spun sugar. Melting against me. Melting into me.
I could keep her in my arms forever.
Or until the kitchen door bangs open.
Slam!
Man. Adding doors to the house seemed like a good idea at the time.
I don’t know who’s about to interrupt us. I do know it takes all my strength to drag my lips from Brooke.
“Ahem.”
Lenore Wallace. Great. Probably the last person I’d want finding us like this.
Then a small voice shouts, “Book!” Scratch that. Daisy’s the last person. “What are you doing out here, Daddy?”
Brooke and I both blurt out, “Nothing!”
“Clearly,” Lenore says. By now, the sky’s gotten pretty dark, but her white pants are glowing like the moon. “Brooke, your father is out front, seeing Ethan and Jenkins off to the airport. I thought you’d want to know.”
Even though Lenore is talking to Brooke, I keep nodding at her. A lot. Like a bobble head amount. What is happening to me?
She cuts her gaze my way. “Daisy tried to give Ethan some of your dry clothes, Mac. Sadly, they were … a bit too large.”
Whoa. They had a fashion show already? How long were Brooke and I making out?
�
�Ugh.” Brooke cringes. “Ethan tried on Mac’s clothes?”
“Just by holding them up, we could tell they wouldn’t fit,” Lenore says. “And I don’t think Ethan liked that very much.”
I crack a smile. “No, I bet he wouldn’t.” I look down and see that Daisy’s squirming. Huh. Not hopping must be killing her. “Thanks for trying to help out, Daisy.”
“Oh, she was quite a big help.” Lenore sniffs. “In fact, your little girl has been telling me all about how she’s not so little anymore. Apparently, she’s almost five.”
“Yes!” Daisy finally hops. “My birthday is so, so soon!”
“Oh my gosh.” Brooke turns to me. “We’ve never talked about her birthday.”
“Yeah.” I run a hand through my hair. “Guess we haven’t had a chance yet.”
“Is something wrong, Mac?” Lenore asks.
“No, no. It’s just that …” I dart my eyes to Daisy, then back to Lenore. “En-gway eft-lay on Daisy’s irthday-bay.”
Lenore screws up her mouth. “What are you talking about?”
Heat floods my chest. Not only do I feel like a fool, but I really hate this subject. I’m about to try again when Brooke sucks in a breath. “Pig Latin!”
Finally.
“Do you understand, Mom?”
Lenore shakes her head.
“En-gway eft-lay on Daisy’s irthday-bay. Just. Last. Year.” Brooke is speaking so slow and loud, Ethan and Jenkins probably heard her in the limo.
Lenore’s eyes finally pop open. Right. There’s the lightbulb. “Yes. Well. Mac.” Her face is sheepish now. “I can certainly see why that’s not something you’re eager to … revisit.”
Daisy sighs and rolls her eyes. “I don’t know what the adults keep saying. But will the maid and the butler be at my party?”
Lenore flinches. “I don’t think so, Daisy. Mr. Wallace and I won’t be staying long.”
Daisy grasps Lenore’s hand. “Please? I want MeeMaw and PeePaw there.”
The Mostly Real McCoy: A Sweet Romantic Comedy (Apple Valley Love Stories Book 1) Page 19