“What’s that mean? Did he hit you or—”
“No. He never laid a hand on me, but the stuff he would say, the way he treated me when he got mad…I can’t even explain how bad it got.”
Trevor screwed up his face.
“You have some experience with this?”
Trevor nodded, a time when his own father cursed his name and told Trevor he wished he’d never been born, all because one of the heating units broke at the inn. Trevor had spent the night in one of the cabins that night, just to get away from the anger. “My father started drinking when stuff went south at the inn,” he confessed. “He’d yell or be downright hateful. He never hit any of us, but his words were like fists. I got in a fight once that didn’t hurt anywhere near as much as some of the stuff he’d say.”
Brooke twisted her napkin around her finger, her dark eyes sadder than he’d ever seen them. “I know. And I’m sorry you went through that.”
When she finally glanced up, his gaze caught with hers. “I’m sorry too. For you,” he said.
He reached across the table, offering his hand.
She placed her palm against his and he held on tight.
“One day, I realized there’d be no apology from him,” she said. “Nick was never going to ask forgiveness or make amends. He didn’t recognize he had a problem. I tried and tried. I asked him to go to counseling, to stop taking his anger out on me and insulting me. But he wouldn’t. I was worried his words might turn to fists and I…I couldn’t stay and allow myself to be treated that way. Especially when he saw no issue with his behavior. So, I woke up one morning, early, and while he was still asleep, I threw everything I needed and really cared about in a bag, got in my car, and drove all the way to Chateau Jolie. I never went back.”
“Good for you.”
She shook her head. “Is it? I know leaving was the right thing to do, but I still carry guilt for it.”
“You’re a devoted person. I think that’s natural given how loyal you are to your sisters and anyone you care about. But his misery wasn’t your fault. His unhappiness and refusal to get help, also not your fault. You had no choice. You had to leave.”
Again, she glanced away. “I know.”
Heat flashed up the back of his neck. He knew something about what she’d gone through, and right now, she was lying to herself. “Do you?”
Chapter 18
When she glanced up, Trevor’s intent gaze stared right inside her, trying to see even the darkest parts of her life that she kept hidden. She didn’t want him to see.
He wouldn’t like what he saw.
He made no secret of his interest in her, but he’d mainly seen the woman she portrayed herself to be. If he knew the real her, the Brooke who couldn’t put her past behind her, a woman who’d allowed herself to be verbally and emotionally abused, the doubts and dark thoughts she’d entertained…
And she wasn’t finished with any of it yet. Her ex-husband was still around, trying to take from her what she held most dear.
Her stomach turned, a wave of nausea sweeping over her.
Who was that woman she’d become? A woman who’d been demeaned, yelled at, and now sued. She wished she could say she didn’t know this woman. Being a victim angered her in ways she never thought she’d feel.
Insecure, scared, and the furthest thing from heroic.
A hero would never allow herself to be treated that way. She’d fancied herself as independent, strong—and she was when it came to other people—but she’d let someone, who supposedly loved her, treat her in ways she’d never allow her sisters to be treated.
And to this day, she had no idea why.
Trevor shifted in his chair, leaning forward. Closer. “Your silence is answer enough.”
“What?”
“When my dad started drinking all the time and my mom was depressed, I claimed I knew it wasn’t my fault. But I guess I said that only to have something to say. Deep down, I blamed myself for their fighting, my parents’ hurt and anger, our family falling apart.”
Brooke clung to her napkin. “I knew your folks separated, but I didn’t know things were that bad.”
“Surprise. The Bradleys aren’t a perfect family. Never were. I told myself all the time that my parents’ misery wasn’t my fault. But deep down, I thought somehow my brothers and sister and I held blame.”
“What finally convinced you otherwise?”
“Talking to my mom.”
She flinched, the idea of ever hearing Nick’s voice again bringing on another wave of sickness.
“I am in no way advising you to talk to your ex.” Trevor put his free hand out for emphasis. “Absolutely not. But, for me and my situation, when I finally reached out to my mom last spring and slowly kind of opened up communications, I gained perspective. I realized she and my dad had their own issues long before us kids ever came along. It wasn’t until then that I finally knew, in my soul, their problems weren’t our fault.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think I’m there yet.”
“I don’t think you are either. But that’s okay. Takes time. Looking back, maybe that’s part of why I needed to go away for a while. I couldn’t see the bigger picture. I was still hurting, and so were my brothers and sister. We aren’t completely better now, but we’re getting there.”
She knew a little about the Bradleys’ hard times with their parents and the inn. Most folks in town knew a little. But she hadn’t expected Trevor to speak of it. He was as private as Brooke, and seemed unfazed by so much, she never would’ve guessed how much he’d struggled.
He might play it off like talking about his family’s issues was no big deal, but sharing that kind of truth mattered. And it took trust, and guts.
“You’re going to be okay,” he said.
“I wish I was so sure.”
“Eventually you will be. It’s okay if you aren’t there yet, but you don’t have to go around telling yourself you are.”
“Is that what you did?”
“Totally. Don’t do what I did. Spare yourself. Or you could end up barely talking for a year.”
“You did that?”
He nodded.
“Yeah, right.” The notion of a silent Trevor was inconceivable.
With a noncommittal grunt, Trevor poked what was left of his rice around the plate.
“Wait. You’re being serious.”
“Sadly, yes. I didn’t talk for most of my freshman year of high school. Which might explain why you don’t remember me.” He smiled, attempting to make light of his situation.
But she wasn’t having it. “I never knew. I’m so sorry.”
“Freshman year, when my parents were at their worst. Their marriage was a wreck, the inn continued to tumble downhill. None of this was new, but my brother Roark had left for college and Dev was acting out in spectacular fashion. Roark was the one who held the place together for us. Without him, everything went to hell and, long story short, I couldn’t cope. I didn’t want to deal with any of it. Running away wasn’t a viable option, until later, so I…withdrew.”
A quiet Trevor, all alone, not making friends easily or laughing or putting people at ease with his mere presence. To imagine that time was depressing, even though she hadn’t known him.
“I went to school. Passed, barely. But that was it. Spent most days alone in my room. I think the only person I ever said more than two words to was Sophie. I’m not sure anyone really noticed at the time.”
“I wish I’d known you were going through that. I would’ve helped.”
“We didn’t exist in the same circle then. Helping me wasn’t an option.”
“I know, but—”
“Your job isn’t saving everyone. Anyway, I saved myself. One day, after Sophie totally freaked out because I wouldn’t tell her where I’d been all weekend, I realized I
was hurting myself, and her, because of the actions and moods of other people. Home sucked big time, so I got out as much as I could. Started hiking and walking, wandering around a lot, just so I didn’t have to be at home. And here’s the funny thing about wandering. You’re alone, but not really. I’d meet random people while I was out, and they loved to talk. I didn’t have to talk about myself or my messed-up family. I found this one guy, taking pictures of plants, and talked to him for hours about his thesis on wetlands. One lady was out every day with her shih tzus. She’d happily talk for hours about nothing but her dogs. It got me out of my head.”
“Maybe I should start wandering.” She smiled.
“I’m serious. Getting out, maybe even getting lost, it helps.”
“Does one have to wander alone, or can she bring a buddy?”
Trevor gave her a soft smile, his dimples faint but undeniable. “I think a combo is good, if I’m that buddy.”
She laughed and squeezed his hand, feeling surprisingly light for having discussed such heavy topics.
But then, that was being with Trevor. He just made things…easier. He put her at ease.
With a quick kiss dropped on the back of her hand, he let go. “You ready to go?”
No.
She didn’t want to go anywhere. In that moment, all she wanted was to stay with him.
When she first met him, very little about Trevor spoke of long term. Being with him would be exciting, adventuresome, even healing, but temporary. But he kept revealing unexpected depth. He insisted on being so much more than met the eye.
And, as risky as her situation was, with the worst possible timing ever, she liked him. Not temporarily, but really and truly growing to care for him.
Right now, there was nothing more terrifying.
Chapter 19
He stared at the tall, locked gate surrounding the school’s back parking lot, Brooke’s Toyota sitting all alone inside. “I don’t think you’re getting your car today.”
Next to him, Brooke leaned forward, peering around as though there might be some secret entrance, hidden behind a bush. “There’s absolutely no way in?”
“Unless you want to climb that fence, no. I’ll gladly give you a boost, but you’re on your own if you try to yee-haw your way through the front gate.”
“Dang it.”
“I’ll take you home. Reagan or Laurel can give you lift back tomorrow.”
A couple of days ago, she would’ve resisted. Argued that she didn’t want to put him out or make him go out of his way. Today, she simply agreed. “Sounds good. I’m too tired to climb a fence right now.”
By the time they made it back to Chateau Jolie, night had fallen.
“You want to come in for a minute?” Brooke asked.
Trevor was out of the car and walking her to the door before the question was completely out of her mouth.
Heck yeah, he’d come in for a minute.
Inside, the warmly lit lobby sat empty, until her sister Laurel popped her head out of the office. “Hey.” She looked them over. “Long day?”
“Little bit. You’ll have to take me to get my car tomorrow. It’s locked up behind the school gate.”
Laurel’s expression never changed, but she studied them both intently. “Okay. I’ll expect the full story behind why when I take you to get your car tomorrow. ’Night.” She waved, her shrewd gaze lingering until she turned and left.
For all her sweet, dog-loving, fluffy ways, there was a lot more to that Sargent sister.
Brooke headed toward the back of the chateau, nearing the ballroom, and Trevor followed.
“Didn’t Sophie and Wright come here before Dev got married?” he asked. “To try the wine.” He put the last part in little air quotes.
“You’ve already asked me that.”
“And you wouldn’t answer.”
“Exactly.”
“But that was before we kissed.”
Exhaustion laced through her laughter, but the sound warmed something deep inside him. “Kissing me won’t make me talk.”
“Careful. I might take that as a challenge.”
Brooke stopped at the bottom of the grand staircase and turned to him.
Her hair was less perfect than when they’d started the day. The power suit was wrinkled and she looked due a good night’s sleep, but the woman still stunned him.
Turned out, Brooke Sargent went beyond being a challenging adventure. She compelled him, made him want to step up, not only for her but for himself. Being there for her, whether she was stressed or needed to talk about her past, held value. He didn’t want to let her down; he didn’t want to let Windamere High down.
He had the kind of motivation and focus he hadn’t felt since Peru.
Trevor made a point of strolling casually to a higher spot on the other side of the staircase banister. He leaned forward, resting his chin on his forearms. “For what it’s worth, I already know she and Wright came here last summer. And they were a lot more than friends when they visited. Unlike some people, my sister isn’t Fort Knox.”
“If you already knew, why ask me?” Brooke moved closer, one foot on the bottom step, then the other.
“I don’t know. Because I like poking around. And messing with you.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“And I don’t want today to end.”
Her smile was soft and fond, and her looking at him like that was everything.
“As tired as I am, I don’t want today to end either,” she said. “I had fun. For the first time in a long time.”
“Don’t look now, but I think today may have qualified as a date.”
She tilted her head.
“We went out, had a meal, I brought you home, walked you in.”
“You may have a point.”
“I should kiss you and make it official.”
Trevor leaned forward and cupped her jaw. Her lips were soft, searching, giving in to the kiss immediately.
This was something he could get used to, way too easily.
“What if…” Brooke’s gaze danced away as she pinched her lips together. “What if you didn’t say good night?”
His heart thundered in his chest.
“What if you stayed?”
“I’ll stay if you want me to.” He wanted to stay; all he needed was the word.
“I’m not ready to say good night but I…” She studied him, the weight of what she wanted to say heavy in her gaze.
He tucked a knuckle beneath her chin, lifting her face again. “What? You can tell me.”
“I want you to stay, but I’m not ready for…more. Not yet. I know I don’t want to stop kissing you, but sex is a big step for me right now.”
He stopped her worry with another kiss. “Hey. I’m not Troy Richenbacher. I would love to stay, and we aren’t going to do anything you don’t want. I could stay here and do nothing but this.” He pressed his lips to hers again. “I’ll still be the happiest man in the tri-county area.”
She took Trevor’s hand. “Really?”
Was she kidding? A few weeks ago he could barely get a wave from her in the grocery store. Staying with her tonight was more than he’d ever hoped for. “Yeah. Really.”
Brooke grew quiet, the expressionless mask all of the Sargents had seemed to master firmly in place. Then she tugged on his hand.
Together, they climbed the stairs. Her room was on the third floor, in the far west corner. He didn’t say a word on the way there, refusing to break the spell.
She let him in and closed the door.
The room was dark except for a small night-light left on in the bathroom.
Her face in shadows, she turned to him, her back to the bed. “Would you be okay just spending the night? Here with me?”
In answer, he took her hands in his and le
d her to the bed. He eased her back on the bed and slipped off the high heels she’d worn all day. Then he stepped out of his shoes and climbed on top of the covers with her. At the foot of her bed was a folded quilt. He pulled it over them and drew her close.
“I feel guilty asking you to sleep over. Like I’m some—”
He stopped her by covering her lips with his once more. He kissed her until her shoulders melted free of tension, the air around them growing heated enough to burn off all doubt. Then he leaned up to look her right in the eyes. “You’re not there yet and I’m not going to rush. Don’t get me wrong, I want to have sex with you. So much sex.”
She tucked her face into his chest and laughed.
“But we’re not going to ruin everything by being in a hurry.”
With a nod, she rolled over with him, nestling into the nook between his shoulder and chin. “Thank you.”
He liked Brooke. Really liked her.
He’d been attracted to her for months, but physical attraction wasn’t the same thing as connecting with her the way he had over the past few days.
His brothers might laugh—then again they were both in love now, so maybe not. But now he knew Brooke in a way that went deeper than need and desire. He understood some of what she was going through and the more he got to know her, the more he wanted to know.
The possibility, the promise of what they could share, sent a shiver through his body.
“Are you cold?” Brooke cuddled closer, her arm a welcome weight against his chest.
He was the furthest thing from cold.
He was warm and wanted. She’d asked him to be here, trusted him enough to be vulnerable, and he would do everything in his power to prove worthy of that trust.
Chapter 20
Locks of dark hair tickled his arm and chin. Trevor woke to the sight of inky lashes against ivory skin, Brooke’s face smooth and relaxed in sleep.
The morning sun crept up, her bedroom still cast in the blueish light of early dawn.
Unreal. Like something from a dream. He smiled, because this was reality. His reality. Practically perfect.
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