Her father grimaced. “It’s not too late to break things off with the Bradshaw man. If this art studio business is so important to you, I can fund that, whether or not your mother agrees.”
“Simon!” Margaret’s outrage turned her face crimson.
He gave his wife a truculent stare. “Well, I can.” He shrugged sheepishly, coming around to hug Brooke before releasing her and pouring himself another scotch. “I’ve let your mother take the reins, but I won’t stand by and see you heartbroken by a bad relationship. You’re my baby girl.”
Brooke was completely caught off guard. “Thank you, Daddy. That means the world to me. I’ll keep your offer in mind.”
Margaret Goodman stared at her daughter. “I hope you won’t do anything to tarnish our standing in the community.”
Brooke flinched. The chilly words were their own condemnation. “I understand your concern, Mother. I’ll do my best.”
* * *
Monday morning, Brooke didn’t see either of her parents when she came downstairs. While she had been in her bathroom miserably ill, Margaret and Simon Goodman had left for work.
The much-dreaded confrontation was over. Brooke had faced her two-headed nemesis and won. Or so it seemed.
Shouldn’t there be some kind of trophy for what happened last night? When an adult child navigated the chilly waters of independence, surely there needed to be some permanent marker. The feeling of anticlimax as she said goodbye to her childhood home and climbed into her car was disheartening.
She had been counting on an exciting day at the club to boost her spirits. Fortunately, that was an understatement. While she was outdoors taking one last critical look at her garden murals, a crew showed up from a regional magazine to do a story about the bachelor auction and all the renovations.
The reporter interviewed Brooke. The photographer took dozens of shots. Alexis was escorting the duo.
While the two professionals conferred, Brooke pulled Alexis aside. “Any chance you’re free to be my maid of honor on Wednesday morning?”
She’d been hoping Alexis would squeal with excitement. Unfortunately, nothing had changed. Her friend wrinkled her nose. “You realize I can’t say no to you, Brookie. But I have strong reservations.”
“Duly noted.”
“What time?”
“I don’t know. We’ll probably leave for Joplin first thing. Austin and I will talk tonight.”
“So you’re really moving in with him?”
“I am.”
Alexis gnawed her lower lip. “I wish I could talk you out of this. But I’m hardly in a position to hand out romantic advice. Just promise me you’ll be careful.”
“What does that even mean? The man is only trying to do right by me and his child. He’s not some wacko ax murderer.”
“I’m not worried about your physical safety. I’m afraid he’ll break your heart.”
I’m afraid he’ll break your heart.
Alexis’s words reverberated in Brooke’s head for the remainder of the day. Perhaps because they echoed Brooke’s worst fears.
Could she keep her emotional distance? Was that even possible?
Austin met her on the front steps of the club just after five. They had texted back and forth during the afternoon, and his mood was upbeat.
When she stepped outside, he gave her a big grin. “I skipped lunch. What if I take you to dinner at La Maison? To celebrate?”
What exactly were they celebrating? She was afraid to ask.
Instead, she looked down at her black pants and cream sweater. “I’m not really dressed for that place.” La Maison was one of Royal’s premier dining establishments.
Austin waved a dismissive hand. “It’s Monday night. Nobody will care.”
Again, they left her car behind. The restaurant was in the opposite direction from the condo, so they could pick up the vehicle later.
Once they were seated at a table for two beside the window, Brooke felt herself relax. “This was a great idea,” she said. “I didn’t realize how stressful it was going to be to talk to my parents. They didn’t go ballistic, but it wasn’t easy.”
Austin poured her a glass of sparkling water from the crystal carafe the waiter had left on their table. “You should be proud of yourself.”
“I am,” she said, sipping her water slowly and gazing absently at their fellow diners. It was true. Despite her current circumstances, she felt in control of her life. It was a heady feeling.
They stuck to innocuous topics during dinner. Austin had changed out of his work gear into a sport coat and dark slacks. His white shirt and blue tie showed off his tan.
The man was too handsome for his own good.
Despite her best efforts, Brooke couldn’t keep herself from repeatedly sneaking a peek at that tiny, telltale white line on the third finger of Austin’s left hand. She noticed it every time he reached for the bread basket or picked up the saltshaker.
“I should tell you something,” she said, the words threatening to stick in her throat.
Austin stilled, perhaps alerted by the note of gravity in her voice. “Oh?”
“My father stood up to my mother. It was remarkable, really. He said he would fund my art studio despite her wishes.”
“What are you telling me, Brooke?”
Now she felt like a bug on the end of a pin. Austin’s piercing gaze dissected her and found her wanting. “Just that my dreams are within reach with or without a marriage license.”
That was a lie. A whopper, really. Her dreams were no longer limited to an empty, weed-choked lot in downtown Royal. Now they included a cowboy architect with a big smile and a closed-off heart.
The man in question picked up a silver iced teaspoon and rolled it between his long fingers. The repetitive motion mesmerized her.
“I thought we had a deal, Brooke. You’ve bought a dress. I’ve ordered flowers. The appointment with the judge is on the books.”
She reached across the table and took the spoon out of his hand. Then she linked his fingers with hers, feeling his warm, comforting grasp ground her...give her courage. “I know what we said. But I want you to know there’s an escape clause. You can bail right now. Free and clear.”
Part of her wanted him to take the bait. So that she would no longer be clinging to this terrible, fruitless yearning to lay claim to this man’s heart and soul.
Austin squeezed her fingers. His smile was both sweet and mockingly erotic. “I know what I want, Brooke. You’re the only one dithering.”
And there it was. The challenge.
She took a deep breath. “Okay, then. If you’re sure. I asked Alexis about Wednesday morning. She’s free.”
“Good.”
He reached into his pocket and extracted a slim white envelope. “This is for you, Brooke.”
She took it from him gingerly. “What is it?”
“Open it, honey. You’ll see.”
Inside was a gift certificate to a baby store in Dallas. The certificate had a lot of zeroes at the end. “Austin,” she said softly. “This is too much.”
“Get everything you need for the nursery. Everything. You can wait until we know if it’s a boy or a girl, or you can go with a unisex theme and start shopping now. I want you to have plenty of time to get the baby’s room ready. If you’d like to paint, I can handle that on the weekends.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
He rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb, sending tingles down her spine. “Tell me you’re happy, Brooke.”
That was a heck of an order. Why did he have to ask for so much?
“I’m happy,” she whispered, her throat tight. “Of course I’m happy.”
It was clear from his face that her words were not entirely convincing.
Even so, he smiled. “Ready to get settled into our new digs?”
“Oh, yes. I forgot we’ll have to make up beds.”
“Nope. I had a service come in today. They’ve outfitted the entire house with the basics, so we’ll be all set until we have time to pick out our own things. And they’ve stocked the fridge and cabinets with staples and perishable items.”
“Looks like you’ve thought of everything.”
“I tried,” he said. “We’ll see how well I did.”
Fifteen
Austin kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. Brooke seemed matter-of-fact about their new living arrangements, but he couldn’t be sure what she was thinking. The woman had learned to hide her emotions and feelings from him. He didn’t like the change. Not one bit.
On a more positive note, she was less frazzled now. Clearly she had come to terms with her pregnancy. He could almost see the mental switch that had flipped inside her. Deciding to embrace motherhood wholeheartedly was a huge step.
At the condo, she flitted from room to room, examining every nook and cranny, though she had seen it all twice before. He gave her space. She was nervous. Understandably so.
For his part, Austin was glad not to be living in the bunkhouse at the Lone Wolf anymore. He had appreciated Gus’s hospitality, but it was time to put down more permanent roots, at least for the short term. The irony of that equivocation didn’t escape him.
As the hour grew later, Brooke got quieter. It occurred to him that she was on edge about the sleeping arrangements. That was easy enough to fix. He didn’t want her coming to him out of any sense of obligation.
When they passed in the hall for the fifth or sixth time, he put out a hand and caught her by the wrist. Her bones felt small and fragile in his grasp. “Relax, honey. You have your own room.”
She chewed her lower lip, making no pretense of misunderstanding. “I know. But I thought we agreed this would be a real marriage.”
Her anxiety caught him off guard. And though he would be loath to admit such a thing, it hurt. “I’m not buying a wife,” he said, the words sharper than he had intended.
She flinched. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Look,” he said. He stopped, scraped his fingers through his hair and pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead. He sighed. “I need to go to Dallas tomorrow. Just for the day. Why don’t you come with me?”
“No,” she said quickly. “There’s lots to do here.” She grimaced. “Do you have to go?”
He shrugged. “Jenny’s father died this past weekend. They’ve asked me to say a word at the funeral. I don’t want to. Not really. But I couldn’t think of a polite way to say no.”
“I’m so sorry.” Brooke’s expression was stricken. “We should postpone the wedding. You’ll be expected to stay longer than one day, surely.”
“Brooke...”
She stood there staring at him. “What?”
“This isn’t because of Jenny. It’s not, I swear. I’m not doing this for her. But her mom...well, she...”
“She loves you,” Brooke said, her voice flat.
“Yes. I know it’s been a long time. It shouldn’t matter.”
“People are entitled to their feelings, Austin. I understand that. You should be honored.”
“I wanted this to be a special week for you and me.”
She wrapped her arms around her waist. “I’m not a child. Things happen. Please don’t worry about me. Do what you have to do.”
* * *
Austin went to bed alone that night. He lay in the darkness on an unfamiliar mattress with his hands linked behind his head and tried not to think about Brooke sleeping just a few feet down the hall.
His sex hardened as he imagined her soft body tucked up against his. The scent of her hair was familiar to him now. The curve of her bottom. The way her breasts warmed in his palms.
In less than forty-eight hours, she would be his wife. At one time, that notion would have scared him. Now he was confident he could handle it. Brooke knew the score. She understood what he could give and what he couldn’t.
Despite his very real aversion to opening himself up to an intimate relationship, this was going to be a good thing.
He was looking forward to fatherhood. Brooke was going to be an amazing mom, even though she was understandably scared. Hell, so was he. What did he know about raising a kid? But it was something he wanted, something he had always wanted.
Jenny’s death had been the death of that dream, too.
In the silence of the darkened room, he could hear himself breathing. Soon, Brooke would be here beside him. He couldn’t deny the rush of pleasure and anticipation in his gut at that thought.
Brooke was awakening feelings in him that he’d been sure he would never experience again. Affection. Warmth. The need to protect.
To say that he was conflicted was like saying Texas was a big state. He was looking forward to his new future. But at the same time, he was skittish.
He didn’t want to hurt Brooke. But his heart wasn’t up for grabs. Period.
* * *
Though it pissed him off, Brooke managed to avoid him the following morning. He was forced to head for the airport without seeing her at all. Leaving town with things rocky between them made him uneasy.
They were supposed to be getting married tomorrow, so why was that prospect seeming less and less likely?
The funeral was difficult and sad. Seeing Jenny’s mother even more so. He had dreaded coming, because he thought it would cause him to relive every minute of Jenny’s funeral. In the end, that didn’t happen. Not really.
His grief was different now. It would always be a part of his past, but it was no longer a searing pain that controlled his days.
The realization brought first dumb shock, then quiet gratitude.
At last the funeral and the accompanying social niceties were over. Traffic on the way back to the airport made him miss his flight. He cooled his heels for an hour and a half and finally caught a later flight. After a hot, crowded hop to Royal, he landed and retrieved his truck for the drive to his new home.
The condo was dark when he arrived. It was after eleven. It made sense that Brooke would be asleep.
Disappointment flooded his stomach as he unlocked the front door and let himself in quietly. He stood in the foyer and listened. Not a sound broke the silence.
With a sigh, he carried his bag to his bedroom and tossed it on the chair beside the bed. After a long, hot shower, he felt marginally more human.
His lonely bed held no attraction at all. Wearing nothing but a pair of clean boxers, he tiptoed down the hall and stopped at Brooke’s door. It was not closed completely. He eased it open and stood in the doorway until his eyes grew accustomed to the semidark. Her body was a small lump under the covers. A dim night-light cast illumination from the bathroom.
This entire day he had been driven by a need to return home. Here. To this house. A place where he had slept only one night so far and that could not—by any conceivable standard—possibly be considered home already.
What had drawn him back from Dallas was more than drywall and shingles and wooden studs. The invisible homing beacon was wrapped up in a petite woman with a big heart and an endless capacity for hope.
Guilt flooded him without warning, leaving sickness in its wake. He was about to marry her tomorrow for no other reason than because she drove the cold away. And he needed that. He needed her.
But it wasn’t love. It couldn’t be. Never again.
He couldn’t even pretend to himself that he was her savior. Brooke’s father had offered to finance her studio dream. Brooke didn’t need Austin at all anymore. The best he could offer was giving the baby his name.
He must have inadvertently made a sound. The lump beneath the covers moved. Brooke sat up in bed, scrubbing her face like a child. “Austin? Sorry. I was waiting up for
you. I must have dozed off.”
Her hair was loose around her shoulders. The scent of her shampoo reached him where he stood. She was wearing an ivory camisole that clung to her small breasts.
“I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“It’s okay. How was the funeral?”
He shrugged, one hand clenched on the door frame to keep himself in check. “It was fine. Saw a lot of old friends.”
“And your mother-in-law?”
“She’ll be okay, I think. Her sister is going to move in with her. She’s a widow, too.”
The silence built for a few seconds.
Then Brooke held out a hand. “You must be exhausted. And cold. Come get in bed with me.”
He stumbled toward the promise of salvation, knowing full well that he was a selfish bastard who would take and take and give nothing in return.
Brooke lifted the covers and squeaked when he climbed in. “Your feet are like ice,” she said.
“Sorry.” He spooned her from behind, dragging her close and wrapping his arms around her so tightly she protested. His world was spinning. Brooke was his anchor. He rested his cheek on the smooth plane of her back. “Go to sleep, honey. It’s after midnight.”
“But you’re...”
He had an erection. Pike hard. Impossible to hide.
“Doesn’t matter,” he said.
For hours he drifted in and out of sleep. It was as if he was afraid to let down his guard. He’d been half convinced she would bolt when he was out of town. Until he had his ring on her finger, he couldn’t be sure this peace would last.
Exhaustion finally claimed him. When he next awoke in the faint gray light of dawn, Brooke had scooted on top of him and joined their bodies. She kissed him lazily, nipping his bottom lip and sucking it until he groaned aloud.
He was too aroused for gentleness. He gripped her ass and pulled her into him. Feeling her from this angle was sensory overload. He shoved up her camisole and toyed with her raspberry nipples.
Brooke’s head fell back. She cried out. He felt the ripple of inner muscles caressing his hard length as she found her release.
Groaning and cursing, he rolled them in a tumble of covers. Lifting her leg onto his shoulder, he went deeper still, thrusting all the way to the mouth of her womb, claiming her, marking her, saying with his body what the words would never offer. She was his.
Million Dollar Baby Page 14