by Tanya Agler
His grin faded, and he shrugged. She instantly missed those crinkles. “Things to do. Got it.”
Brooke gritted her teeth so she wouldn’t shout a different answer. He walked out the door without looking back.
* * *
JONATHAN HELD OPEN the door to The Busy Bean for a new patron, and he exited, the sounds of mellow jazz sailing out with him. Seeing all the happy couples made him want to escape with his decaf and head for home. Even Harriet, the station’s dispatcher, and Bert, her husband, were cuddled next to the stage, the soft lights emphasizing their radiant glow.
He wanted that magic again. The problem was, he wanted it so much he might have gone too far, too fast with the first woman he’d reacted to in a long time, and projected feelings onto the situation. He had to remind himself again of what should be his priorities.
He turned onto Timber Road and stood in front of the gazebo, using the warmth of the disposable cup to ward off the chill of November in the Great Smokies. All around him, the signs of the season emerged. Holiday lights, festive wreaths and a menorah were just a few. Loneliness spread through him. He was finally at the point where he wanted a special someone to share a kiss with under the mistletoe or exchange a meaningful glance with at the Thanksgiving table.
That had to be the answer. He missed the thought of someone sharing his life. He wasn’t attracted to Brooke, but the time of year. He wanted a caring partner by his side to make the hard days easier and the relaxing days even happier.
This was the second time he’d had the same discussion with himself, and this time, he’d take control of his feelings. He set off for home until a dog’s bark and a woman’s voice halted him in his tracks. He turned and found Daisy bounding toward him with Brooke trailing behind. The glint of the red lights overhead reflected off Brooke’s dark hair, tied back in that familiar messy bun. And he knew.
He wasn’t projecting false feelings any more than he could deny the truth. Every time he saw her, his feet felt as though they hovered a good six inches off the ground, and his heart hammered outside of his chest. Good grief, he sounded like a lovestruck teenager rather than a father with two daughters.
Maybe meeting that special someone did that to a person, no matter their age.
Daisy reached him first. Her bottom wriggled, and her body quivered with excitement. The dog barely knew him, and yet she acted like he was her best friend.
“Jonathan.” That lilt in her voice threw him off guard. She tilted her chin at the cup in his hands. “It seems a little late for coffee.”
“It’s decaf, and there’s a jazz ensemble at The Busy Bean tonight. Since you like jazz, I’ll buy you a cup.”
She held up Daisy’s leash. “Daisy loves Wynton Marsalis, but I don’t think they’ll buy that she’s a jazz fan trapped in a dog’s body.”
He laughed. “Good point. Care if I stroll along?”
His heart raced as he waited for her answer. Fortunately, she didn’t keep him in suspense for long as she delivered a slow, careful nod. “Unless I’m keeping you from the concert?”
“I’ll go another Saturday night. Perhaps with someone whose dog is a jazz fan.” With the glow of the streetlights bathing her, Brooke flushed pink.
Brooke shortened the retractable leash, and Daisy trotted like she owned the town. Several passersby nodded hello, and he greeted them in return.
“Am I taking you out of your way?” Brooke navigated around the damp orange and yellow leaves, a reminder of the early evening rainfall that stopped before he ventured downtown.
“Yes, but I’m enjoying the night air.” And that wasn’t all. He might as well admit it to her. “And your company. How are you liking Hollydale? It’s a long way from Houston.”
“It’s a bit of an adjustment, but it’s the best thing to happen to me in a long time.” She kept Daisy in line. “You’re lucky to have grown up here.”
“I didn’t.” She faced him, and he elaborated. “My aunt and uncle are from this area. Every summer growing up, my parents couldn’t wait to drop me off for three months. Caleb’s more like a younger brother than a cousin, really. Then every September, I’d leave the Spindler family and return to my parents, who stayed busy with work. Their careers always came first.”
Long ago, he’d sworn to himself he’d be different. Yet when Vanessa and Izzy grew up, would they say he also valued career over family?
“Your daughters must be thankful you spend quality time with them.” Brooke twisted the leash around her hand. “I had the exact opposite experience growing up.”
“How so?” Daisy picked up the pace again, and he matched Brooke’s progress. She stayed silent, and he didn’t rush her. “You don’t have to share if you don’t want to.”
“That’s not it.” Her protest warmed him. “My mother never took anything seriously, never met a job she could keep for more than a couple of months.”
“Then Colin must be thankful you’re not like her. We might have had opposite experiences—” His voice cracked, and he took a good, long look at her. She’d met adversity headfirst and kept going, but both of them knew what happened when a child didn’t feel loved. This was something he’d buried, and would have gladly kept below the surface, until he met her. “But they obviously had an impact on us.”
“I guess I fear turning into my mother, and I leap into work headfirst. But I’m determined to live more in the moment.” Daisy found the one puddle in their path and jumped in it. He laughed, and Brooke groaned. “Like my dog. Now I know what I’ll be doing when I get home.”
“I bet you weren’t the type of girl to jump in puddles.”
It might be wrong to want this walk to go on forever, but he did. Sharing his past with her felt like he was at home.
She chuckled and shook her head. “Nope. I was always too busy, trying to make sure I had enough food and a place to live. I grew up way too fast. I’m learning to sit on the porch during a storm since there’s something about the steady cadence of rain that makes me stop and take it easy for a while.”
“Too busy for relaxation? But that’s the flip side of work.” Jonathan bowed by her side. “Allow me to introduce myself, m’lady. Sir Jonathan of Relaxing Afternoons at your service.”
Her chuckle turned into a full laugh. “There are so many facets to your personality. I like that. Are you saying that you’re good at taking it easy?”
“The very best.” He held his head high and executed a move as if he held a pretend sword in his empty hand.
“I have a hard time relaxing. I prefer to get out there and make things happen.” She stopped next to a mailbox. “This is my Aunt Mitzi’s house.”
Good things always ended too fast. He opened the gate for Brooke. “M’lady, I shall see you to your door.”
“Daisy...”
“Can play in the yard for a few minutes. You’re already giving her a bath, right? Why not spend a few minutes with me on the front porch? You can take your first lesson from the master of relaxation.”
“The master, huh?”
“Among my other charming traits.” She wasn’t the only one who needed a few minutes of stress-free living.
Jonathan sat on the wooden rattan bench on Mitzi’s covered porch while setting his disposable coffee cup on the cement. He watched Brooke unleash Daisy, who romped around the yard. “Looks like you’re already halfway asleep.”
Suddenly, he didn’t feel much like relaxing, not with her so near. He stood and approached her. One long wisp of her dark walnut hair escaped her upswept hairstyle, and he tucked it behind her ear. She gave every evidence of cool sophistication, but she was so much more than mere appearances. Her caring heart was leaving its mark on him. She’d made Halloween more special for an entire community while taking his daughters under her wing.
“Brooke.”
Without another word, she hooked her hand arou
nd his neck and pulled him close until no space separated them. Her lips were as soft as they looked, and she kissed him, the faint taste of sugar and vanilla combining with something delicious that was Brooke herself. The coldness of her cheeks seeped into his warmer skin, and the sound of ocean waves rushed into his ears. He wound his arm around her back, the softness of her fleece jacket registered along with the sheer softness of her.
His heart rate accelerated, reminding him he was alive and grateful to be here on the porch with her in his arms, kissing her, falling for her.
She broke away first, and color exploded into his world again, the black-and-white aspect wearing away after so long. Oranges, reds and yellows sang with life all around him. She licked her lips. “Coffee-flavored Jonathan. I could get used to that.”
“I should have had two cups.”
“I’m glad we found each other, but I’m not the person you think I am.” She stepped back, then added even more distance.
“I think your aunt would have noticed if you weren’t the real Brooke Novak.” He approached her and cupped her cheek with his hand, willing his warmness to melt her icy skin.
He couldn’t let her stand out here, freezing. The night air cooled fast here in the mountains. He took off his coat and placed it over her thin fleece jacket.
She pulled away and tried to hand the coat back. “I don’t need this.”
Her face grew more guarded, yet he wouldn’t take back his garment. “Yes, you do.” His eyes narrowed. “You’re not used to people doing nice things for you, are you?”
Brooke blinked and stared at him. “Of course I am. Colin gave me the sweetest college graduation gift, and Mitzi helps me all the time.”
Jonathan shook his head and wrapped his coat around her shoulders. “When was the last time you let someone outside of your circle in?”
Her throat bobbed, and she licked her lips. As much as he wanted to kiss her again, he stood still. “My employees.” She started ticking off fingers, and he shook his head again. “And I’m making friends with a bunch of women at the center. They’ve nicknamed themselves ‘The Mimosas.’”
He reached over and pulled the coat in front of her, her warmth and assurance already important to him. This connection was something he himself had to wrap his head around. “You aren’t comfortable letting people in, are you?”
Her lips formed a thin line. “Sometimes the ones you care about the most are also the ones who can let you down the most.”
He didn’t know which was worse, though. Letting down someone you loved or having someone you loved let you down. Either way, living with the consequences of that could be devastating.
“Are you talking about your mother or someone else?”
“Both. You already know about me, but Colin’s father...” She lowered her gaze to the porch floor. “He chose which commitments to honor and which were disposable without consulting anyone else. He wanted nothing to do with me after I told him I was pregnant. When Colin was born, I tried one more time, but he turned us away.”
Jonathan stepped forward and wiped away the tear falling down her cheek. “That man lost out on the best thing to ever happen to him.”
“You haven’t known me long enough to see if that’s true.”
One look at her expressive face let him know she believed that. “I know you better than you think I do.” Somehow, unwrapping every layer of her would take years, and he wanted that type of time with her. “You’re elegant and lovely with a heart of gold.”
“Elegant?” She shook her head and rubbed her hands along her leggings. “Thanks, but everything I own is courtesy of others. I upcycle well.”
“Brooke, there’s nothing you can say that’s going to stem this attraction.” He stopped smiling, and his inner glow from their first kiss was fading fast. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I can’t believe the men in Houston didn’t realize your worth.”
Daisy scratched at the door, and Brooke rushed over and let her inside. She returned his coat. “I’ll give her a bath later.”
Her voice quivered, and he pointed to the door. “Shouldn’t you invite me in? We can give Daisy that bath together.”
She shivered, and he wound his arms around her, amazed at how she could feel so right. He stood there until her trembling subsided.
“You say that like it would be the most pleasurable way to spend a Saturday night.” Without her usual heels, her head rested on his shoulder. He could stand here forever, but there was a weight to what she said, one he couldn’t let go by without addressing.
He broke away and stroked a finger along her soft cheek. “I don’t say something unless it’s genuine.” Winning Brooke’s trust would take time, but it would be worth the wait. “Even giving Daisy a bath with you would make for a memorable evening.”
The blinding lights of an automobile pulling into the driveway caught his attention. Before he could respond, car doors opened and slammed shut with laughter breaking through the still night. Mitzi and Owen hustled onto the porch, holding hands. “We have the most exciting news.” She held up their hands. “We’re engaged!”
“She’s making an honest man out of me at last!” Owen beamed.
Mitzi chuckled and tapped Owen’s arm. “You’re not fooling me. You’re doing this for the free haircuts.”
Owen shook his head while Brooke hugged her aunt. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Champagne for all.” Mitzi turned to Jonathan, beaming and flashing her ring. “You’re invited to come inside, too.”
“Oh, no.” Brooke frowned. “I forgot. Daisy’s in there, and she has muddy paws.”
“Oh, darlin’, a little mud never hurt anyone. It’s celebration time.” Mitzi wound her arm through Brooke’s and opened the door before glancing over her shoulder at Jonathan. “Join us?”
“Thanks. I’d be honored.”
More laughter broke out as he joined Brooke’s family.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
LATER THAT NIGHT, Jonathan waved goodbye to Caleb and faced Vanessa, her muddy jeans a sign of how much fun she had at the Spindler house. “Looks like it’s shower time and then bed for you, young lady.”
While she was in the shower, Jonathan cleaned the kitchen, his lips still tingling from the memory of kissing Brooke. This evening with her reminded him of those sappy first-love shows Vanessa was discovering. That kiss ignited feelings in him he thought long gone but had instead been dormant, the same way there was so much more to Brooke below the surface.
Before Jonathan could get Brooke all to himself after a champagne toast to the happy couple, Caleb had texted to say that Vanessa wanted to come home.
He wiped strawberry jelly off the countertop just as Vanessa entered the kitchen with wet hair and wearing a nightgown with kittens. She’d been begging for a pet for a while. Maybe it was time to think about a kitten. Anne had been planning a trip to the animal shelter before the accident happened. He aimed the dishcloth at the sink and released it with a swish. It fell into the basin.
“Perfect timing on your part. All the kitchen chores are done, and it’s bedtime.” Then he’d sink into his favorite chair and relax with a little television.
“Daddy, can you be happy and sad at the same time?” Vanessa clutched her stuffed kitten, Miss Whiskers, and hugged it close to her chest.
So much for relaxing. His daughter needed an answer, not that he was sure a simple yes or no would suffice. Her pensive expression gave away too much, yet he needed more information.
“Why do you ask, Nessie?”
She scuffled the floor with her slippers and shrugged. “Just wondering.”
Jonathan led her to the sofa, and they settled in. Anne had taken forever at the furniture store selecting this model. With each of the three finalists, she sat and whipped out her book and read for fifteen minutes, testing the couch. Even the salespeopl
e had given up and left them alone.
Vanessa snuggled against his side, Miss Whiskers still nestled in the crook of her arm.
“Yes, a person can be happy and sad at the same time.” Take tonight. Earlier had been an exhilarating high with that spectacular kiss and Mitzi and Owen’s announcement, and yet it was bittersweet as he couldn’t shake the feeling the timing of everything was off. There was so much uncertainty swirling around him with the detective position up in the air, Izzy taking such a vehement stand against Brooke and this whole case hanging over him.
He wanted Brooke to trust him, and yet he wasn’t sure he’d earned that yet.
“Why do you ask?”
Vanessa hesitated, and he let the silence draw out, wanting her to feel comfortable enough to talk to him about anything, not just now but always. “When Lucie laughed tonight, I was happy. Then I thought of Mommy, and I couldn’t remember what her voice or laugh sounded like. I was sad.”
His heart gripped his chest. It tightened, and he could barely breathe. There were days when Anne’s voice seemed near, and others when it was so fleeting he also had trouble remembering the cadence of it, the lilt of her smile and the softness in her gaze. Whenever that happened, however, Izzy would grin or Vanessa would shout something, and Jonathan remembered.
He brought her closer, comforting his sensitive daughter, resembling Anne in appearance and him in temperament, and who used humor as a shield for her soft heart.
He stroked her damp hair, the orange scent of her shampoo comforting and familiar. “All you have to do is laugh, and that’s what her laugh sounded like.” He carefully untangled himself from her and went over to the bookcase. He returned with a photo album, and she scrambled over to give him room. “Your mommy made this. Part of her is in here, and part of her is in your heart and Izzy’s heart.” And the heart of the transplant patient.
Vanessa flipped the pages, and Jonathan watched the wonder on her face. Then he glanced at his engagement picture. His and Anne’s faces glowed with the exuberance of young love. Was it wrong to want that kind of happiness a second time?