Wet
Page 2
Blake joined the conversation with a teasing grin. “You can’t start baking for a man until you’re married to him, Angie. Sorry.”
Angela rolled her eyes. “Keep dreaming, Blake.” To her mother, she said, “Is it okay if I keep this stuff in the kitchen for a couple of days?”
“Of course,” Lillian said with a smile.
As Angela skirted around her family and disappeared down the hall, Nate crossed his arms over his chest and declared, “I still don’t know how I feel about that guy.”
Lillian rolled her eyes at her son’s comment and gestured to the hallway. “Eric’s a fine young man, Nate. You and your brothers need to try not to scare him off.”
“Your mother’s right,” Christopher added, falling into step behind his sons.
Blake raised an eyebrow at him over his shoulder. “You, too?”
Christopher laughed. “I see him more often than you do, remember?”
Blake shifted his gaze, meeting his brother’s eyes, before they both sighed and shook their heads. Hesitantly, Blake asked, “He’s not coming to dinner, is he?”
It was Angela who answered him, having caught up with them as they returned to the living room. “Of course he is. He should be here in a few minutes, so you’d better be nice or you’re off my Christmas list, got it?”
“Gee, Angie,” Nate began teasingly. He moved toward her and looped an arm around her shoulders. “Christmas is so far away, I’m sure I could wiggle my way back into your good graces by then.”
Angela narrowed her eyes in a futile gesture and shoved Nate off her. “Oh no, I have a memory like a steel trap, I wouldn’t forget.” The front door opened before Nate could retort, and Angela used the opportunity to dart around him and claim a spot on the couch.
“We’re in here!” Christopher called from the loveseat.
Two sets of footsteps indicated that both of the remaining Hawke siblings had arrived, and then Dean and Logan were walking into view. Dean smirked and moved to the couch, dropping a hand on his sister’s hair and deliberately ruffling it. “How’s my favorite sister?”
“The same as yesterday,” Angela replied, reaching up as soon as her head was released in order to fix her hair. Looking past her nearest brother, she added, “Hey, Logan.”
Logan moved around Dean and claimed a seat beside Angela as he said, “Hey.”
“So what’s for dinner?” Dean asked, stepping back a foot and shoving his hands in his pockets.
“Angie’s boyfriend,” Blake replied with a laugh.
Dean ignored his sister’s pointed glare. “That’s unfortunate. I prefer brunettes.”
“Boys,” Lillian called pointedly from her chair.
Christopher interrupted her would-be lecture, saying, “Ah, let them get it out of their systems now. Maybe that way they’ll behave when he gets here.”
“Wait,” Dean said. “What’s-his-name’s actually coming for dinner?”
“Yes,” Angela and Lillian replied simultaneously.
At Dean’s irritated look, Nate nodded and said, “Yeah, that’s how I feel.”
“And his name is Eric,” Angela added, turning her attention directly to Dean. “Please don’t be an ass.”
“Angela,” Lillian scolded with a frown.
Dean held his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay, fine, I’ll try to behave.”
The words were barely out of his mouth when the doorbell rang, announcing the arrival of their guest.
Angela stood up immediately. “I’ll get it. Compose yourselves, will you, please?” She disappeared down the hall without waiting for their response.
Christopher looked to his three still-standing sons and gestured to the remaining seats. “You might want to consider sitting, or your sister will probably accuse you of trying to intimidate her boyfriend again.”
“I’ll stand,” Dean insisted.
Blake shook his head and moved behind Dean, putting his hand to Dean’s shoulders and shoving. “Come on, sit down already. You’ll only upset her.”
Obediently, Dean allowed Blake to steer him towards the couch, and Nate silently sat on Blake’s other side. The seat Angela had previously occupied was still open, as well as the seat beside their father and the one remaining chair. And then Angela led her boyfriend of just over a year into the large living room.
Eric Matthews walked comfortably beside the youngest member of the Hawke family, hands casually in his pockets and eyes aimed forward. His dirty-blond hair was styled as it always was, with a little too much gel and thin, combed spikes. The soon-to-be-eighteen-year-old’s posture matched the expression in his eyes. He was comfortable beside Angela, and did not fear her older brothers.
“It’s so good you could join us, Eric,” Lillian said with a smile, standing and moving forward to greet him.
Eric embraced her quickly. “Thank you for having me, Mrs. Hawke.”
“Please, make yourself comfortable,” Lillian continued, gesturing wide before turning back to her chair. “Christopher was just about to start dinner.”
Christopher pushed to his feet easily, recognizing the hint, and smiled as well. “Hope you like meat, because that’s what we’re having. I was thinking a good old-fashioned steak dinner sounded like just the right thing.”
“That sounds delicious,” Eric assured his host with an inclination of his head.
“Come on.” Angela took her boyfriend’s hand and guided him toward the newly vacated loveseat as Christopher stepped out of the room.
Once everyone was settled, Lillian swept her eyes around the room before asking, “Now then, what’s new with everyone?”
****
Blake met up with his brothers again the following afternoon at Earl’s Diner. For once, he was the last to arrive, so he simply smiled at the girl behind the register before moving toward the booth they’d snagged. When he reached them, he raised an eyebrow at Dean, who was sitting in the center of their side, and said, “You’re going to have to slide over, bro.”
Dean grinned back at him and shook his head. “Nah, since you were late, we figured you should have to sit on the floor.”
Resisting the urge to smack his brother upside the head, Blake replied, “You make me sit on the floor once, I’ll make you sit on the floor every single time you’re late from now on.”
As Dean quickly slid to the inside of the booth, Nate laughed. “He got you there, Dean.”
“Shut up.” Dean rolled his eyes.
Blake was barely settled in his seat when someone he hadn’t expected to see until the following morning was suddenly standing beside their table.
“Well, hello there,” Brooke declared with a smile as she lowered her writing tablet.
The brothers all looked over, and Blake couldn’t help but return the smile. “Hey,” he said. “It’s only natural we run into each other now that we’ve already met, right?”
“Makes sense to me,” Brooke agreed.
“Hold up,” Nate interrupted, leaning forward and glancing between them. “How come I’ve never met you?” he asked as his gaze settled on Brooke.
With a shrug, she replied, “Maybe because you don’t come in often enough? If it’s any consolation, I’ve only seen those two once before today.”
Jumping into the conversation, Dean said, “And really, the more important question here is: how do you two know each other?”
Raising an eyebrow at his sibling, Blake explained, “We have a class together.”
Nate almost looked disappointed. “That’s so … ordinary.”
Brooke laughed softly at their exchange. “Yep, just about as ordinary as you come. Now then, not that I don’t love your company, but I’m afraid I need to know what to feed you.”
She completely missed the shared smirks the brothers exchanged before Blake obligingly ordered his lunch.
Brooke had walked off, headed to the back to put their order in, when Dean smirked and declared, “Please tell me you haven’t called dibs yet.”
The other three turned raised eyebrows to him, and Blake slowly asked, “What?”
“Oh, come on,” Dean said pointedly. “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed. She looks like she’d be fun.”
Nate’s head hit his hands and Logan released a deep sigh, closing his eyes and shaking his head.
Blake narrowed his eyes on his brother and said firmly, “No.”
It was Dean’s turn to cock an eyebrow. “So you have called dibs?”
“I haven’t called anything,” Blake said. “But she’s my partner for the semester, so I’m telling you to leave her alone.”
Attempting to lighten the mood, Nate looked back to Dean and said, “Yeah, besides, she’s blonde. Didn’t you just say last night that you prefer brunettes?”
Dean grinned. “That was last night, Nate. It’s a new day.”
“He’s got a point, Blake,” Logan declared with a mocking smirk. When Blake silently raised an eyebrow, Logan said, “He’ll have forgotten all about your classmate by tomorrow.”
Dean rolled his eyes as his brothers laughed good-naturedly.
****
Brooke watched the Hawke brothers leave a short while later, pursing her lips in thought. When they were walking side-by-side like they were, it was easy to see both the similarities and the differences between them. They were exactly the same height—tall, over six feet at least—and they had the same dark brown hair and bright blue eyes.
But while Blake’s features were a little more angular, Logan’s were strong and broad. And Nate and Dean’s were somewhere in between—not as angular as Blake’s, but not as broad as Logan’s. While Logan was the definition of broad-shouldered and probably a dream come true for any football coach in America, both Blake and Nate were more towards lean and narrow-shouldered. Like swimmers. Dean was more broad-shouldered than the two of them, but even he wasn’t in the same league as Logan.
And if she’d thought Blake’s hair was slightly shaggy (probably just in need of a haircut), then Nate’s was definitely shaggy. Blake’s was long enough to blow in a breeze, just a little, as it danced over his forehead and covered the tops of his ears, even teasing the line of his jacket collar where it met his neck. Nate’s hair, however, nearly covered his ears, and definitely overlapped his jacket collar. Dean’s hair was more like what she imagined Blake’s would be like if he got that haircut and spiked it just a little. And Logan’s was the shortest out of all of them—just long enough to assure the world that it was there, and show off what color it was.
Despite the fact that they were all sexy, Brooke found herself focusing mostly on Blake. Comparing his own brothers to him.
They didn’t stack up.
When the brothers reached the doorway, Blake held it open until the others had slipped through, and then he turned, meeting her gaze one last time and smiling.
Brooke’s face heated instantly, and she lifted one hand in an awkward wave as he stepped through the door. She couldn’t believe he’d caught her staring.
****
“Brooke!” Georgia declared later that evening as she popped her head into the back room. “Could you do me a huge favor? The food’s ready for five, but the people sitting at two are giving me a hard time, and I can’t serve it and handle two.”
“Sure, sure.” Brooke was already re-tying her apron around her waist. “Go deal with two, and I’ll grab the food.”
“Great, thanks!” Georgia beamed before quickly disappearing.
Brooke took a second to make sure she was still presentable, as she had been getting ready to go home, and then stepped out of the changing room and headed for the kitchen. She found the food easily and swept it onto a tray before expertly maneuvering her way out of the kitchen and towards the main room.
She was halfway to her destination before she recognized the people whose food she was carrying. Emma Matthews and her younger brother, Eric. Emma was one of Georgia’s friends from high school, and since they were still fairly close, Brooke was on good terms with her as well.
“Hey there,” Brooke greeted with an honest smile as she lowered the tray. “Georgia’s a little busy, so I’m helping her out.”
Emma returned her smile. “Hi, Brooke. I don’t think I’ve seen you in a little while. How are you?”
“I’m doing all right,” Brooke replied. She picked up the larger of the plates and paused. “Who’s got the appetite?”
Emma laughed and pointed at her brother. “He says his appetite’s growing with age.”
Eric grinned as the plate was set before him. “It is, I swear.”
“Funny,” Brooke teased as she lifted the other plate and set it in front of Emma, “I’ve heard exactly the opposite.”
“Then I must be getting younger on the inside,” Eric replied.
“Yeah,” Emma said, rolling her eyes. “Because you’re old enough to have to worry about your age.”
“I’ll be eighteen in a couple of weeks,” he reminded her even as he stabbed his fork into his food.
“Oh, wow,” Brooke said after she’d shifted the tray to hold it sideways against her body. Other hand on her hip now, she added, “You know, he’s right. He’s getting ancient. I mean, what would it be like to be eighteen?”
“I can’t even imagine,” Emma laughed.
Around a mouthful of rice, Eric grumbled, “I hate to break it to you, but you’re not nearly as funny as you think.”
Emma cringed, leaned across the table, and flicked her brother’s forehead. “What happened to your manners?”
When Eric only grinned tauntingly at his sister, Brooke looked over at Emma and said, “I cannot express how happy I am that I didn’t get saddled with a younger brother.”
Eric looked up at her then and, with a completely straight face, said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m an angel.”
Brooke smirked. “For future reference, that claim will work a lot better after you file those horns down.” Emma and her brother both laughed lightly, and after a moment Brooke added, “It’s been great to see you, but I’m technically off the clock, so I probably shouldn’t be dawdling.”
Emma waved one hand in a shooing gesture. “Of course, of course. Go home already!”
Brooke bade them good-night and once again made her way to the back of the diner. When she was done transitioning back from Brooke-the-Waitress to Brooke-the-Woman, she slipped her purse over her shoulder and stepped out of the back room. She was barely parallel with the entrance to the kitchen when she was waylaid by Paula.
“And what are you still doing here, young lady?” Paula demanded in a strangely motherly tone.
Smiling, Brooke adjusted her purse and explained, “Georgia needed a little help, so I ran the food out to Emma and her brother.”
“That was very nice of you,” Paula complimented her. “Tomorrow’s your early day, right?”
Brooke nodded. “I have to be in the classroom by eight o’clock sharp. Which means up at six, maybe six-fifteen.”
Paula frowned. “The college isn’t that far from town.”
“No, but the parking is horrible after seven-thirty,” Brooke stated.
Paula shook her head exasperatedly. “I praise your motivation, sweetheart. If it were me, I’d have quit by now. That’s too much trouble.”
Brooke laughed sympathetically. “Tell me about it! But I really have to run, Paula. I have another chapter I have to read tonight.”
“Well, what are you waiting for? Don’t let me keep you!” Paula insisted, taking Brooke by the shoulder and physically guiding her toward the sitting area. “I better not see you in here before tomorrow night, understand?”
“Good-night, Paula,” Brooke replied with a wave before she turned and continued on her way.
The people at table two, who had been causing Georgia problems, were gone already, which meant that the only table occupied besides five was a booth far in the back. Brooke didn’t know the old man in the booth, and for a beat she wondered why he was si
tting by himself, but she moved on just as quickly. She looked back towards the Matthews siblings to smile at them again, but they weren’t looking in her direction.
Shrugging it off, she went to continue forward and nearly bumped into a chair. Mentally shaking her head at herself, she angled to walk wide of the threatening piece of wood, and unexpectedly found herself in ear-shot of Emma and Eric’s conversation.
“—much longer, anyway?” Eric was grumbling, sounding for all the world like a frustrated child on a road-trip. “I’m sick of waiting.”
Emma’s voice was lower, as if she were over-aware of her surroundings, when she said, “That’s his decision, Eric. Just do what you’re told and be patient.”
“But it’s been—”
Emma suddenly interrupted him when she realized that Brooke was nearby, though Brooke hadn’t been watching them, and she loudly called, “Oh, good-night, Brooke!”
Brooke turned to smile awkwardly at them and replied, “Good-night.” But as she turned forward once more, she couldn’t help but think that that had been entirely too strange. Or maybe Emma was just tired of listening to her brother’s whining, she told herself. Either way, it wasn’t any of her business.
Chapter Three
It was raining heavily Monday morning. Brooke, like everyone else, felt and looked not unlike a drowned rat as she sank into her seat before class. Shoes squeaked irritatingly along the linoleum floor, and most of the conversations Brooke could hear were not unlike her own thoughts. Who wanted to deal with rain at eight in the morning?
To say she was confused when Blake eased into the seat beside hers with an easy smile and an undeniable vibrancy in his eyes would be an understatement. Not only did he not look like the requisite drowned rat, he actually seemed to be in a better mood than he’d been in the last time she’d seen him. I thought he said he wasn’t a morning person?
“Good morning,” Blake said, smile still in place, as he easily pulled out his notebook and set it on the desk. Today their desks were facing forward, though still in pairs, so it was probably safe to assume they’d need the notebooks.