Reagan laughed again, her smile genuine.
Brooke finally took a breath, letting her shoulders slump. Thank you, she mouthed to Trevor.
You’re welcome, he mouthed back, his sky-blue eyes twinkling.
He was quickly becoming the night’s hero.
Crap.
Chapter 4
The chance he was wearing a dopey grin on his face right now?
One hundred percent.
Brooke’s thank-you, that smile, the fact that she was loosening up and teasing him back again all sent waves of warmth through his body.
This was the Brooke he’d spent time with at Dev’s wedding. Guarded, but good natured.
She didn’t give away her smiles or gratitude lightly, which made them all the sweeter when she did.
Their pizza finally arrived and they ate in the kind of silence that descends upon the hungry.
He was on slice number three when Reagan pepped up. “Seriously, though, how do you two know each other?”
Brooke opened her mouth, but her sister cut her off. “Don’t you dare deflect. I got dumped today. I deserve a good story.”
Brooke glanced at him and her sister, probably wondering how to share the tale of their amazing time at Dev’s wedding, only for things to end in her turning him down flat and taking off like Cinderella from the ball.
There had to be more to the story—parts he didn’t know—but right now, he was more interested in the present.
And Reagan’s request gave him the perfect opportunity to get in Brooke’s way.
“I’m supposed to be helping your sister with the prom at Chateau Jolie, but she doesn’t want me to.”
“That’s not what I said.”
“What?” Reagan interrupted, putting both hands out and turning to Brooke. “Why? We need help.”
He grinned. Somehow he knew Reagan would have his back.
“I didn’t—” Brooke gave him the evil eye. “Thanks a lot.”
“Seriously, if he’s offering to give us a hand, say yes. They do this crap all the time at Honeywilde.”
“It’s not crap. It’s a prom.”
“Which is exactly why we need him.”
Brooke shot him another scolding glance.
“You know I’d be happy to oblige.”
Reagan’s eyes widened before she began elbowing Brooke incessantly. “See? Say yes.”
When Brooke didn’t respond, still sitting there, steely eyed, Reagan picked up her pizza slice and gave Trevor a wink. “Don’t worry. That look means she’ll eventually say yes. You just have to survive the period of purgatory that comes before she finally does.”
If looks could kill, Reagan would’ve choked to death on a pepperoni at that very moment.
Instead, she dropped her mangled crust and stood. “Be right back. I’ve got to go to the ladies’ room.”
Brooke turned her glare on him. “You dragged her into this on purpose.”
“Yep.”
“I’ll have to accept your help or hear about it from her, all day, every day.”
“Eh. You’re stuck with me anyway. Roark and I discussed it yesterday and he’s insistent. If we’re throwing in money, we help throw this shindig.”
With lips pursed into a funny little shape, she pushed her plate away.
That did it. His jimmies were officially rustled. “Is being stuck with me that damn bad? I thought you and I got along pretty well. You’re acting like I’m Typhoid Mary.”
She flinched, her eyes wide. “What? No! It’s not—I don’t think you’re Typhoid Mary. I just don’t want to take—”
“Advantage of me. You said that already. But that’s not the situation here, okay? Even if it was, please, take advantage of me. You won’t hear me complain.”
His comment got the faintest whiff of a smile before she began twisting her napkin up into some god-awful origami.
“I know you need help with this prom, mainly because your sister is drunk and blurted out the truth.”
Why wouldn’t she want free help? Her resistance made no sense.
“If you’re worried about reliability, you can count on me.”
Her gaze met his and, for a moment, he thought he had her. Then she lifted her water glass to her lips, muttering as she sipped.
“Yeah, I’ve heard that before.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
He might not have been the most involved in his family’s business in years past, but by God, he did his share now. He’d never been afraid of a hard day’s work. The family dynamic was what ran him off for a while, but Brooke wouldn’t know that.
Maybe she’d heard things about the devil-may-care youngest Bradley, caught a few rumors about him running off to faraway lands—or nearby beaches and mountains—without a penny to his name just to see if he could survive day to day.
That was all true of course, but nowadays he pulled his weight. The wanderlust never went away, but work hard, play hard. That was his new motto.
“I am so done with this day.” Reagan reappeared at their table like she’d been conjured up from thin air. “Can we go home now?”
“What a novel idea, sis.” Brooke hopped up.
She paid the tab and they made their way back to the Tavern’s parking lot, the conversation going nowhere near the topic of the upcoming prom.
“Are you planning to come back and get your sister’s car tomorrow or…” Trevor let the question hang.
Brooke stopped in her tracks, her head falling back. “Dang it.”
He grinned. She struck him as too polished for dang-its, but he loved surprises.
“So that’s a no?”
“I can’t come back here tomorrow. I don’t have time to run up and down the mountain. I’ve got a morning meeting, we’re still spring cleaning at the winery for tours, and—”
“I can follow you in your sister’s car. But I’ll need you to bring me back here tonight to get mine.”
Brooke shifted on her feet while her sister went right ahead and crawled into the passenger seat of her car.
They could stand there all night waiting for Brooke to concede.
Rather than grow old waiting, he popped his head in the open passenger door of the Camry. “You have your keys?” he asked Reagan.
She dug into her purse and tossed them over.
He held them up to show Brooke and walked to her sister’s car. “It’s settled then. I’ll follow you and you can bring me back to my car after we drop off your sister.”
Brooke tracked him with her gaze, but remained motionless. “Okay?”
Chapter 5
Trevor slid behind the wheel of Reagan’s car while Brooke stood there trying to come up with a good reason and good way to refuse him.
There wasn’t one.
“Fine.” She grumbled and got in her car.
She drove home with Reagan burning a hole in the side of her skull.
“What?” she finally asked with only a couple of miles to spare
“How do you know Trevor, really?”
“I told you, we were at the same wedding and he’s supposed to help with this prom.”
“And?”
Brooke kept driving.
“You might be able to stonewall everyone else in this town, but you aren’t shutting me out. I know there’s more going on than you two being casually acquainted. Spill.”
“There is nothing to spill.”
“Have you kissed him?”
“No.”
“Did you make out?”
“Stop.”
“Did you dance with him?”
Brooke stared straight ahead, silent.
“You danced with him at the wedding? You danced!” Reagan wiggled her fingers. “More than once, I bet.”
>
“That’s enough. I’m not a sixteen-year-old girl who met some boy at a party. We danced. So what? We had polite conversation, discussed business in Windamere, and—”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Everything was all very grown up and boring, I’m sure, except the part where Trevor Bradley is a smoking-hot hottie who doesn’t seem boring at all.”
The annoyed groan came from all the way down at her toes.
But she was more annoyed with herself than with her sister.
Reagan was right. Trevor was anything but boring. He might be an adult, but he had a kind of relaxed exuberance, an ease with life, that she’d never attained.
Their time together at Devlin’s wedding was the happiest she’d been in years.
She’d giggled like a schoolgirl, talked, and eaten way too much cake. And when they danced, he’d held her too close, but she didn’t object. In fact, she’d moved against him, considering things she hadn’t wanted in ages.
She’d even gone so far as to take his arm as he walked her out, then skittered away like a frightened rabbit when he asked to see her again.
“I mean really, Brooke. At least you’ve got a guy interested in you. A decent guy. He’s cute and nice and funny and wants to help. He’s the exact opposite of that jerk I dated, and you can’t even have coffee with him?”
“Coffee leads to dating.”
“So?”
“I’ve done all of that already. The dating, the relationship, the engagement. The marriage, the divorce. You know what I’ve been through. It’s pointless. Real-life relationships aren’t the fairy tale we were brought up to believe. Finding a cute guy doesn’t mean you end up with someone like Dad. Fun dates don’t mean you get the kind of relationship our parents have.”
“Ugh.” Reagan made a show of slumping against the passenger door as they pulled into the chateau’s parking lot. “No couple is like Mom and Dad. I’ve already learned. And I know you and Nick didn’t work out, but that doesn’t mean you give up on men. Or happiness.”
Didn’t work out.
That had to be the best euphemism yet for the hell that was the last year of her marriage.
“I am happy, Reags. And I don’t need a man to remain so.”
“Okay, sure.” Her sister rolled her eyes.
This from a woman who’d been dumped by the town’s biggest player and yet she still thought dating another guy was the answer.
“Your marriage went to shit and you’re using that to avoid any connections to anyone from now until eternity, but whatever. You can sit around and grow old and die alone if you like. I won’t stop you.”
Heaven help her deal with Reagan’s dramatics. “Die alone? That escalated quickly.”
“Brooke.” Her sister, several years her junior and often a decade more immature, suddenly grew serious. Her eyes clear, her voice unwavering. “I mean it. Don’t say whatever it is you think will make me shut up and then ignore my advice like you do everything else. Trevor is nice. He’s cute. He obviously likes you. He bought us pizza.”
“I bought the pizza.”
“I don’t care. Promise me you’ll try. You don’t have to marry the guy, just let him help us with the prom and don’t get all defensive when he’s friendly.”
“I’m not defensive.”
Her sister cocked her head to the side with more attitude than Brooke could ever muster.
Reagan might have a point.
Over a year had passed since she’d let anyone close, other than her two sisters. Month after month of an odd sort of solitary. Every day she was around people, but she’d never been so alone.
At first, she’d needed the solitude to lick her wounds and find some kind of emotional solid ground. When she’d first come back home to Jolie, she’d burst into tears at the weirdest provocation, and without warning.
Better to be alone when you found yourself weeping over the inability to find your favorite fleecy pajama pants.
Even though solitude was growing old, the notion of dating made her stomach sway.
She’d been through hell and back with her ex, and Trevor couldn’t be a dating option.
For crying out loud, he was a Bradley.
Too much was at stake with this prom. Where one Bradley appeared, three others followed. If she let Trevor truly be a partner on the prom project, before she knew it, they’d all be involved.
One date with him and she’d probably be neck deep in bossy Bradleys.
Right now, she needed to be the one in charge.
But…Trevor did have the connections with the high school and the Bradley name to smooth out the whole process. His family was footing the lion’s share of the prom budget too, even if they hadn’t discussed those details yet.
Trevor was the reason she got Reagan home safely tonight too, and spending time with him wasn’t horrible.
She met her sister’s gaze. “Okay. I promise to try. And I won’t get defensive just because a cute guy is being nice to me.”
“Thank you.” Reagan’s Grinch grin came back. “And I knew you thought he was cute.”
* * * *
At night, with the entryway lit and the downstairs indoor lights glowing, Chateau Jolie looked like a dream.
Trevor crawled out of Reagan’s Prius while Brooke and her sister stayed in the other car, chatting away.
He took a deep breath, appreciating the crisp, clean air. Spring in the mountains brought cool night air. And sometimes it could get downright cold.
Like now.
Trevor crossed his arms against the chill. They needed to hurry things up.
Reagan finally emerged, big Cheshire cat grin on her face. “Thanks for getting my car back. Y’all be safe on the way down. But not too safe.”
He joined Brooke in her car. “Is she still tipsy or did I miss something?”
“With her, we’re all missing something.” She pulled out of the parking lot.
“Yeah, I kind of gathered she’s a handful. And dated Rex Richards? Yeesh.”
“Tell me about it. Only for a few months, but that’s still a few too many. I told her he was trouble. She told me just because I was back didn’t mean I could butt in.”
Trevor grabbed onto the most telling word.
“Back? From where?”
When she didn’t answer, he kept digging. “I’d noticed you moved away after school, but I didn’t want to be nosey at Dev’s wedding.”
The corner of Brooke’s lip turned down.
“Where’d you run off to?”
“Trevor.”
He gaped dramatically. “You went to a place called Trevor?”
She lost her fight against smiling. “I thought you didn’t want to be nosey.”
“That was at Dev’s wedding. Now I don’t have a problem nosing.”
“I moved back over a year ago. I thought we already talked about this.”
“Um, no. I spent half an hour that night trying to find out if you preferred white wine over red. We talked about everything from TV shows to work to weddings we’d crashed—”
“You talked about weddings you’ve crashed. I don’t do that.”
“We talked a lot, but nothing too personal. I still don’t know if you prefer white or red.”
“I wasn’t that bad.”
He gave her a dead-eyed stare.
“Wow. Okay, guess I was.”
“We still had a great time.”
“Yes, we did.” Her gaze met his briefly and a smile lit her dark features. “And I know I told you I prefer red.”
They reached the valley and she pulled onto Main Street. The Tavern was on the edge of downtown and the only cars left in the parking lot were his and a few Tavern employees.
“Thank you,” Brooke said as she parked.
“For?”
“For be
ing here tonight. Otherwise my sister and I might still be inside the Tavern arguing. Probably causing a scene.”
Trevor climbed out of her car but leaned back down. “From what I hear, it wouldn’t be the first time y’all caused a scene in town.”
Brooke popped up on the other side of the car with a gasp, her eyes wide and mouth open.
“Oh yeah, I heard about the two of you this past winter. Reagan, reading the riot act to some waitress who’d slept with her boyfriend, and you, cool as a cucumber, threatening to turn the whole matter over to the police.”
“Small towns, I swear.”
“Then it’s true.”
“No. Total exaggeration. I had a brief word with a waitress who was sending threatening text messages to my sister. I made it clear she would desist, by choice, or I’d make her, by force. I can’t help it. I’m protective when it comes to my family.”
He went around her car. “I bet you’re a sight when you get fired up.”
“I doubt it.”
“I don’t.”
A frown pulled at her lips and she glanced away. “You’ll have to take my word.”
“I’d rather take you to lunch sometime.”
“Trevor.”
“I’m not asking you for an answer right now. Just stating my interest. Besides, it’s one meal. Technically, we’ve already had dinner together. The only difference is it’d be a meal without your sister chaperoning.”
“Ha. Reagan chaperoning? That’ll be the day.” Brooke studied him, not responding, but no longer objecting. Any time they were together, his skin hummed at the challenge she presented, his senses buzzing any time he could make her smile.
“We’re already going to see a lot of each other while planning this prom. What’s the big deal about throwing a meal into the mix?” he asked. “Even snacks. We could just do snacks.”
She lost another battle with a smile and had to glance away.
There was no way this attraction was one-sided. Part of him wanted to push the issue, lean on the reckless ways of old Trevor and leap. But a more sensible side made him pump the brakes.
“Here. Reagan might be looking for these tomorrow.” He held out Reagan’s keys and Brooke’s fingers brushed his palm as she took them.
No One Like You Page 3