by Amber Scott
“What I wouldn’t give for a cigarette,” Millie grumbled. She peered out at the back porch.
“You smoke?”
“Not really. A lifetime ago I did but it seems like a good habit to pick back up sometimes.”
A couple drags would do wonders for Brooke’s nerves. Or make her sick. Seeing Jason would calm Brooke down. Maybe that was what she was so worried about. Him not showing. Nancy had said everyone was here. Yet, no Jason.
“Alright,” Millie said. “Give me the dirt on all these charming folks before someone comes over to try and make us feel included. Start with the brunette in there. The one who needs to catch a Botox Anonymous meeting.”
“Rhonda Patron. Jason’s youngest brother’s second wife.” Dirt? Hmmm. Outside of the total lack of facial expression, Brooke wasn’t sure she had any dirt on Rhonda. “She’s actually really nice. Drake’s first wife was a nightmare. Cheated on him, had a baby that wasn’t his but swore it was. Really bad. Poor Nancy was crushed.”
“Nothing, huh? Boring.” Millie wrinkled her nose. “How about Nancy? Betty Crocker or Mommy Dearest?”
Brooke shook her head, amused. Millie was too much. Jaded didn’t cover it. “No. She’s totally genuine. When Jason and I first dated, I used to end up crying every time we left their house. She was so affectionate and sweet and giving. My own mother isn’t even that nurturing.”
A lump formed in her throat. Brooke had missed them. All of them.
“I don’t buy it. Every family has skeletons. You just see everything through rose colored glasses.”
“Maybe.” Brooke shrugged, scanning for Jason again. “My own family definitely has its share of dirty laundry. Unwed teen mom for a sister. Workaholic dad. But, far as I can tell, other than a couple broken hearts mended, this family is pretty normal.”
Millie rotated her wine glass again. “Weird.”
“Yeah,” Brooke said. “But in a really good way.” She peered around into the kitchen. When she’d seen him at the mall he’d looked startled. Unnerved. Would he look happy now?
A deep chuckle echoed from the kitchen. Nancy greeting someone.
A lot could happen in two weeks. Had it only been two? Seemed like she’d known Elliott longer. Elliott. His name blanketed her mind. His face, the shadow of stubble along his chin, the evening sky through the window behind him. He’d looked at her like she was the only thing he’d ever known, ever wanted. She’d felt precious.
“Hey, what is he doing here?” Accusation laced Millie’s voice. Her fingers stopped twisting up a tendril and she nudged Brooke. “Isn’t that the dude from the mall?”
Before Brooke looked she knew, deep down in her core. Millie meant Elliott. He was here? She couldn’t move. Her gaze held to Millie’s face and watched her react instead. Millie’s eyes narrowed, her jaw flexed, anger flashed in her eyes. Anger? No, that didn’t make sense. Brooke was probably projecting her own fears.
“Elliott’s here?” she said.
“Yep. That’s him alright,” Millie said then mumbled something Brooke couldn’t hear above the roar in her veins. Millie downed her chardonnay. “I need to call AJ. Where’s the bathroom?”
Brooke gladly led the way to the restroom, almost asked if she could come in, too. But a rational part of her remembered that Millie’s boyfriend, AJ, though working, was giving up his girlfriend for the holiday to Brooke, who he’d only met twice. And, most importantly, he hadn’t pitched a fit about it. Thankfully, thinking of AJ may have prevented Millie from noticing Brooke’s panic. If Brooke was going to spill her guts, it would not be now, not like this.
“Find out if AJ can come over,” Brooke blurted out as Millie shut the door.
She stayed in the short hallway to wait. What if AJ’d gotten out of work early? Nancy wouldn’t mind. Oh, but what if he wanted Millie to leave? No. Millie couldn’t leave her. What good would AJ joining them do, though? Make her feel less stark naked amid her ex-family? She’d still have to face Elliott.
Maybe she could leave out a window.
Her night with Elliott would definitely go down as her least favorite mistake. Stupid song. Blowing her nose on that note and flushing it had felt so good at the time, but now? She should have saved it to throw in his face, along with a cold drink.
Brooke stared at the door, willing Millie to hurry.
Millie would help her leave. They could use AJ as an excuse. Well, so long as Nancy didn’t force them to call him so she could make him comfortable enough to come over. She’d witnessed the woman in action. Once she’d snared a guest, only two helpings and a finished dessert would free them. And only after dark.
Brooke couldn’t think straight. What should she do? Face him? And what was taking Millie so long? Brooke lifted her fist to knock but a male voice carried down the hall, killing her knock mid-air. Someone was coming. What if it was him?
Brooke glanced to her left. The guest bedroom was her only chance. She ducked inside and backed into the shadows. The bed was piled high with coats, the armchair with purses. The shush of jeans and pat of footsteps chorused her thumping heart.
Of all the homes to be in today, how had Elliott found his way into this one? She hadn’t lied about Nancy’s penchant for strays. The woman’s childhood in foster care inspired her, and she made it known bringing a friend got you special treatment on all holidays. Her approval was addictive. But who could have brought him? Why was he alone on Thanksgiving, anyway? Didn’t he have a home to go to? Some mom somewhere itching to do his college laundry?
The bathroom door opened. “Broo—oh, uh, excuse me.” Man, Millie could sound superior when she wanted to.
Footsteps down the hallway—Millie’s?—leaving. Brooke swallowed, willing the door to close again so she could follow. Getting separated meant certain death by gross humiliation. If she ran into Elliott without Millie at her side, who knew what she would say. Or do.
No closed door. No footsteps either. Just the hush of the toilet refilling its tank.
Brooke let her held breath leak out. She rubbed her palms against her slacks. She couldn’t risk Millie getting far.
A voice hissed outside the door. “Jason! You scared me.”
“Mmmm. Did I?” Jason said low. Brooke covered her mouth. She slid down to a crouch on the floor.
Wet sounding smooching noises.
Her heart thumped louder. Jason brought a date? Why wouldn’t he have warned her? Oh, wait. Maybe he had. Was telling her to bring someone his way of playing fair?
She didn’t want to know. She wanted him—them—to go back to the party and leave her to…what? Find Millie. Avoid Elliott.
Heavy breathing, more kissing, the rustle of clothing drowned out the noise in her veins. Tears stung in her eyes. She hated them. Crying was the last thing she needed. Hell, she shouldn’t have any tears left.
Please, just let them go away. Make them go away. She didn’t want to be found like this. Not by Jason. Not when she’d been so excited to see him again. Memories she’d dug up and dusted off, of their marriage’s good parts, swelled inside her. She’d let herself miss him for the first time. Had he missed her, though? No. He was in love again. She’d thought his happy voice had been for her. An olive branch. A truce.
She should have known better.
The kissing stopped. “No. Not here.” Hope filled the whisper. “What if someone sees us?”
“Let them,” Jason said this, his voice level. “I’m not ashamed.”
Another kiss. Ashamed of what?
Hushed. “I know. But, not like this. Please?” Spoken so quiet.
“Okay. But, can you feel what you do to me?” Ew. Longer kisses. “I’ll meet you out there,” Jason said.
Brooke wiped her face. She righted herself, ready to come out of the shadows. She wanted to confront Jason, to stab a finger in his chest and demand an explanation. He’d set her up. But, she knew better. Then it hit her. What if Jason had invited Elliott?
The bathroom door closed. Whoever else wa
s there left. Quiet.
“Get a hold of yourself, Brooke,” she whispered. “You’re better than this.”
Jason finding love didn’t mean anything. How could it? He didn’t get the right to turn her world upside down anymore. Not that he did much turning before.
She felt better telling herself so, too. Good enough to suck it up and locate Millie, Elliott be damned. She’d just play it cool. Act like nothing, not a kiss, not a touch, not even a sneeze, had passed between them. He didn’t deserve to see how hard she’d taken his rejection. No one ever had to know.
To think, she’d actually hoped he’d call, change his mind. Who cared, though? Right? Her eyes pinched against the hallway light. The fact that she’d almost cried like a teen-aged girl over her ex certainly didn’t help. She straightened her shoulders. She’d blame allergies.
Right.
Forget him, remember? Still her mind begged, why? Had he been insulted? Had he seen her wedding photo and thought the wrong thing? Should have hidden the stupid picture. Shouldn’t have it out in the first place except seeing it every day motivated her to never, ever settle again.
She strode down the hall. Forget him? She’d forget the entire night—the entire span of ever seeing those damned blue eyes. It would be wiped from her brain. Clean slate.
As soon as she figured out how. Flushing that note had been a good choice. An excellent decision. Just like giving Elliott a good blow off now would be. If he dared to think he could talk to her. They might be her ex-family, but they’d back her over a stray any day—not that she’d reveal the truth.
Still. Good to remember.
Brooke rounded the hallway corner and, thank God, spotted Millie.
Chapter Thirteen
“He left five minutes ago,” Millie said as Brooke joined her back at the tree.
“He did?” Brooke’s stomach jumped. “He’s gone?”
“Yep.” Millie’s gaze bobbed from her to other guests milling around. “I gave him directions but you may need to clarify for him. I’m geographically challenged.”
“For AJ? You mean AJ left five minutes ago?” Not Elliott. How would Millie know she wanted to run and hide at all, let alone from whom? “Sure, I can tell him how to get here. Do you want me to call now?”
Millie chewed her lip. “Yeah. Just in case. Here, let’s go outside.”
The cold air fingered through Brooke’s hair, soothed her hot neck. The holiday din evaporated as she shut the glass door behind them. Millie handed her phone over and Brooke upgraded AJ’s directions. He was a few blocks away. She thanked him four times. Probably too many, she knew. Couldn’t help it, though.
She hung up. “Where ever did you find him, Millie? How cool of him to come over and spend Thanksgiving with a house full of strangers for his girlfriend’s friend.”
Millie clapped her hands and rubbed them together. “Yep. He’s the best.”
“Thank you for staying, too. For not ditching me. I’m sure AJ would be better company today.”
“No big deal. So, when do I get to officially meet Jason?”
“You met him,” Brooke said, hardly hiding the nervous giggle in her throat. She had introduced them, hadn’t she? Or had she stood there gaping at Elliott like a starved animal? “At the mall. After my makeover.”
“Brooke,” Millie said pointedly. “Yeah, I got his name. I meant, when do I get to know him, meet him? He did invite you to his family’s home on Thanksgiving.”
Brooke tucked her hair back. “His mom wanted me here. Nancy likes having big get togethers. And we’re friends still.”
“Friends or not, you two are divorced. Don’t tell me he doesn’t have something on the agenda.” Millie sounded rather pleased, too.
“Well, if he does, it isn’t about me. In fact, he brought someone home to meet the family.” There. She’d said it. No choking up at all, either. “I think he’s in love.”
“What? No. That’s impossible!” Millie threw her hands up. “Jason can’t be in love. Why would he invite you if he was in love?”
“Uh, yeah. He can. He is.” Had Millie thought this was some sort of a date? “I overheard him in the hallway after you left the bathroom. He was kissing someone. I guess inviting me here is his idea of a truce or…I don’t know.”
“You saw him?” Millie scowled to the sky.
“I heard him.” How could she not overhear? Jason couldn’t whisper to save his life. “I’m sure he’ll be introducing her as soon as he sees us.”
“When? After I left the bathroom? But, where were you?”
“I was in the bedroom, hid…,” she said, then paused. She didn’t want to tell Millie about Elliott. “To find my purse for some Chapstick. My lips are so dry from the wine.”
“Stop licking them so much and they won’t get dry,” Millie snapped and began massaging her temples.
“It doesn’t really matter if Jason was kissing someone. I mean, we’re not together.”
Millie stared at her. “You’re not upset about it?”
“A little, I guess. No, a lot. I wish he’d told me first is all. I feel set up.”
“You know what? I just need AJ here. Everything will be fine just as soon as he gets here.”
Oh no. Millie was regretting this whole thing, wasn’t she? Brooke couldn’t ask. Imagining facing Nancy made her belly squirm. Brooke tried to sound chipper. “We can go wait for him around front if you want.”
She pointed to the side gate too late. Millie’d already gone in the door. Whatever aggravated Millie had her marching. Brooke caught up, keeping her eyes forward lest she spot Elliott. She’d rather be stuck in an elevator with Jason’s new love than anywhere near Elliott right now.
Millie exited the front door soon. Brooke was only a few paces behind. Doing well. Almost there. Could they just get back in the car and drive away? How furious could Nancy get? She reached for the knob.
“Brooke?”
Simultaneously, her hand melted and froze on the knob. That voice. Lovely and deep and sexy. So close behind her. Tentative. Slowly, she faced him. “Hi, Elliott.”
Time tilted. His blue eyes glittered with hope and seemed to see right into her soul.
“I knew it was you,” he said. “I saw you from the living room. Your back, actually. I thought, no way is that her. But it is. You’re here.”
Her knees went a little watery. How could he look at her with such hopeful eyes? Didn’t he remember what he’d said to her?
“Yep. It’s me,” she said, her hand involuntarily slapping her thigh. “Here. Thanksgiving. Family. All that. Jason and I…we, uh….”
“You look amazing,” Elliott interrupted before his brain could fit a muzzle. “Really just amazing.” The willowy way she walked, her neckline, her mouth. The second he’d seen her, he’d known. Unmistakable.
“Um, you too.” She blushed and looked away.
That very morning, again, the urge to call her pounded his head and he’d resisted. What if she’d be there? Nah, he’d decided. Not today. Her at her ex’s mom’s place? Unlikely. Probably the last place she’d spend a holiday. Maybe tomorrow. Don’t rush. Wait until tomorrow. His pulse had picked up. Who knew what kind of fool you’ll make of yourself if you see her?
And now, here was, doing exactly that. Say something, idiot! Elliott unclenched his sweaty fists. “When did you get here?”
“A while ago.” Brooke kept her gaze on his chin. “You?”
He wouldn’t have come at all, but Gordon had begged, bribed and threatened. Couldn’t meet the family alone. Not the very day Jason would come out of the proverbial, suburban sized, closet. He had to be there for Gordon. He always had been for him. “A while ago.”
Plus, Gordon swore they wouldn’t be the only stragglers. Tradition.
Apparently exes were tradition, too.
Get it together! He shouldn’t be so giddy to see her. Not right there for her to see anyways. He was no good at playing it cool, though. Screw it. Why bother trying when all he w
anted was to breathe her in. “I’ve been meaning to call you. I had some things come up.”
Brooke nodded, her lips parted but she didn’t speak.
Had she already noticed him? Probably. And she hadn’t sought him out. Hot disappointment flushed his body. His inner machismo yelled, “Leave now, jackoff! She’s avoiding you!” His feet wouldn’t budge. Things. Like fear of what she did to him, of what might happen next. “Did you get my note?”
Her gaze sharpened. She crossed her arms. “Yes. I got it.”
“But it wasn’t enough. Right. Well, I guess you have two reasons to be pretty angry with me right now.” He raked a hand through his hair. “Would it help if I swore to you I’m really bad with words?”
Her gaze crashed up to his. “You’re bad with words?”
He nodded, rubbing his neck. “Really bad.”
“Let me get this straight. You’re a history professor’s assistant, assigned to grade other’s writing, but you happen to be a terrible writer yourself?”
Alarms went off inside his head. “When it comes to things like this, yeah. Terrible.” Clearly, that wasn’t excuse enough. What else could he have written? A lot. Except, the more he wrote, the less she was likely to be able to actually read. “I didn’t exactly have a computer handy. And I’m a history student. Not an editor. Or a writer.” Especially of love notes.
Forgive me had seemed to encompass everything he’d needed to say at the time. It had sounded gentlemanly. A little poetic, even. This was not how he’d envisioned their first talk. Correction. Not love. Don’t go and say love of all things. Within a blink, she’ll go from mad to running scared.
“Well, I suppose you have one thing down.” Her arms wound tighter around her chest. “Concision.”
He itched to tug her arms apart and bring them around him. He winced. “Short and sweet?”
“Short, yes. Sweet? Not a chance.”
Brooke turned to leave. The door smacked her square in the face. With a screech, she fell backwards and into his arms.
Her friend from the Book Exchange and the mall—Millie, was it?—barreled in. “Oh no! Brooke?”