The big question was, would she understand?
He’d do everything he could to help her understand. Tomorrow morning, the morning of the prom, he’d go to Jolie and stay there until they made amends. He refused to let their pride and apprehension ruin what they had.
“Trevor?”
He glanced up, and Brooke appeared from the fog like some mystical goddess.
Without another word, she sat down beside him. She slipped off her flats and swung her feet over the side of the dock, letting her toes dangle in the water.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey.” He sat up, both of them moving their feet around, the only sound one of swirling water.
“Guess who came to see me today,” she finally said.
Trevor shook his head and shrugged.
“The band from Camila’s quince.”
He nodded.
“They’re going to perform at the prom tomorrow.” She tilted her head to glance at him from the corner of her eyes. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”
He shrugged again. “Maybe.”
Brooke’s smile was soft, dare he say, fond. “How did you manage to pull it off? Where’d you get the money? From Honeywilde?”
“No.”
“Then how?”
Trevor pulled his feet out of the water and turned to face her. “That’s for me to worry about. I took care of our DJ problem and now those kids are going to have the best prom this town has ever seen.”
Brooke’s nose crinkled, her Sargent stare firmly in place as she studied him. “But the money had to come from somewh—Wait. Your trip to Peru. You spent that money. Trevor, no.”
“I said don’t worry about it.”
“But Trev.”
A smile started at his toes and grew until it reached his lips. “That is the first time you’ve ever called me Trev. Say it again.”
“That is your trip money. I can’t let you do that.”
“Already done. And it’s my money. I can do whatever I want. I happen to want a great live band for tomorrow night.”
“Trev—” she began, but he reached over and took her hand, effectively stopping her.
“I fixed the issue, okay? And you can argue until you’re blue in the face, but you ain’t winning this round, Sarge. Accept it.”
With a squeeze of his hand, she smiled again. “I…I didn’t know what we were going to do, and now? Now, I can’t believe we’re going to pull this prom off.”
He leaned forward. “We? Does this mean we’re a ‘we’ again?”
Brooke shook her head. “We were always a ‘we.’ I’m so sorry for the other day. For the way I acted, for not telling you about my ex. For everything. I…I was upset about the chateau’s finances and him and then the prom on top of it and…you didn’t deserve what I said. And none of it was true.”
“Eh. Some of it was true.”
“But—”
He put his free hand up. “No, I can admit my faults. You were upset. This prom means a lot, on a lot of different levels, and I can be a little too laid-back when I need to step up. But more than anything, it’s my fault I haven’t been completely honest with you.”
Brooke frowned. “What do you mean?”
“The reason I kept insisting things were no big deal and everything was fine isn’t because I don’t care. I realized, it’s because I care too much. About this project, but mostly about you.”
She blinked rapidly, pinching her lips together.
“I tried to play it cool, but I’ve known all along. From the moment we started planning this prom—No, actually from the moment I met you at Dev’s wedding, I started falling for you.”
Her smile wobbled.
“After my parent’s marriage and what we’re still going through with my mom, I don’t know. I try to keep things casual. But my feelings for you are anything but cool and laid-back. And I should’ve told you.”
Brooke took his other hand and scooted closer. “I should’ve told you too. I resisted letting you in and then I blamed you for everything when things started going sideways. You’ve never let me down and I started falling for you too. And that scares me. Your relaxed way of doing so might drive me crazy sometimes, but that shouldn’t matter. You’ve always kept your promise. I should’ve trusted you.”
He leaned in, brushing his lips against hers.
“And yes, my ex is threatening the hotel, but I know he won’t win. He’s manipulative and mean but until I cut him out of my life completely, I’ll never have any peace. The best thing I can do is let my attorney handle him and move on.”
“Maybe I can help there too,” he offered. “I didn’t spend all of my savings on the band.”
“Trevor, no. Absolutely not.”
He’d seen her objection coming a mile away. “Just hear me out—”
“The pet ads are starting to work,” she interrupted him.
His jaw dropped. “They are?”
“Yes, and it didn’t even take that long. Business isn’t up much, but…I believe, for the first time in forever, I believe. In your idea and in Jolie. I know things are going to be okay. Business will pick up and I’ll be able to pay my attorney. She has enough of my money, she can wait a few months on getting more. What matters is I believe in my sisters, in the hotel, and in myself, thanks to you.”
“I have no doubts about any it.” He kissed her again. “But if you need my help, you know I’m here.”
“I do,” she said. “I know I can always count on you.”
Chest tight, he smiled around the warm joy about to burst out.
“But first, we have a prom to attend.”
“Yes.” Trevor smiled. “Maybe there’s even a chance I’ll get a dance with my favorite person.”
“I can’t agree to a dance with you.” Brook caught her bottom lip between her teeth.
“Why?”
“Because I want to dance every dance with you. The whole night.” Brooke took his hands in hers. “Trevor Bradley, will you go to prom with m—”
Trevor kissed her firmly on the lips. “Heck yeah, I will.”
Her laughter danced across the lake.
“But what are you going to wear?” he asked.
“I’m not telling you. It has to be a surprise.”
“I need some idea though. Formal? Semiformal? Should I wear my tux or a dinner jacket or what?”
“You own a tuxedo?”
“You should know by now, I’m full of surprises.”
Chapter 33
The soft scent of roses floated on the air, the lobby of Chateau Jolie glowed with candlelight, and, for the first time in her life, Brooke felt like a princess—no, that wasn’t right. She’d lived too long and been through too much to ever be a wide-eyed princess.
Duchess.
Duchess was more like it.
She was a duchess, awaiting her duke.
“Holy shine, sis!” Laurel jumped in front of her as she rounded the stairs. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you.” Brooke touched the low knot of her updo. “Not too much?”
“Exactly the right amount. You’re like…the lady in red. You remember that really old song?”
“The song is not that old.” She smoothed her hands over her hips, the chiffon tickling her palms.
On a wing and a prayer, and a whole lot of sucking in, she’d put on a formal gown from her college senior year. Astoundingly, the dress still fit.
There’d be very little eating and no sitting down in her future, but by gosh, the thing zipped and that’s what mattered.
Reagan joined them and eyeballed the dress and Brooke’s hair. “You look pretty good. Not bad on your hair either.”
Laurel rolled her eyes. “Don’t pull a muscle being nice, Reagan.”
�
��Whatever. Brooke knows she looks great. Always does. Meanwhile we’re over here in basic black.”
“By choice,” Laurel pointed out. “We agreed. Tonight is about the Windamere High seniors, and Trevor and Brooke.” She touched the lace on the cap sleeves of the gown. “Trevor is going to die when he sees you.”
As if summoned, Trevor appeared in the doorway from the lobby. He approached the stairs and almost tripped over his feet. “Wow. You look—Wow!”
Heat filled Brooke’s cheeks. Her sisters made a hasty exit toward the ballroom.
“And you look incredibly debonair for a man who’s an expert at standing on his head.” She stepped off the last stair and touched the lapel of his tux.
His smile lit the room. “Pssh. You think this is debonair? I’m barely getting started.” He lifted his hand. In it was a clear plastic box. Inside was a cluster of stephanotis, tied with white satin ribbon. “This is for you.”
“You did not.”
“Of course I did. How could I not? If we’re doing this, we’re doing things right. Come on, let me put it on your wrist.”
Brooke offered her wrist and Trevor slid on the corsage.
“Brenda said to be careful because these stephanotis bruise easily.”
Not unlike Brooke. At least, before she had Trevor.
The old Brooke was hurt, broken. And she carried the bruises around, refusing to let them heal. She kept them, hiding them, almost coveting them, as a reminder of how much people could hurt her, disappoint and misuse her, if she let them.
So she didn’t let them. Instead, she kept everyone away, never letting them know the real her.
With Trevor, she’d finally let the bruises heal. She let him in, and her life was all the better for it.
There would always be people who’d do harm. But that didn’t have to define you.
Being a divorcee, even if everyone knew, and knew all about what she’d been through, didn’t make her who she was. Her past and her marriage were but a small part of the whole person. And she had so much more ahead.
She hadn’t given much thought to the future in years, when all it held was doubt and darkness.
Now, she looked forward eagerly, and she didn’t look back in anger.
Brooke adjusted the elastic band so the flowers lay just so. “There. Now I can look back at who I was and I’m not angry with her anymore. I’m me because of her.” She blinked at Trevor, realizing she’d said the last bit out loud. “Sorry. I probably sound like a crazy lady.”
“Not at all. You sound wise. And happy.”
Trevor offered his arm. “Now, shall we?”
“We’ll be the first ones in the ballroom, you know?”
“I know, but I still want to make an entrance. Maybe we can get Beans to watch us.”
Brooke laughed, floating on air.
“And don’t worry. We’ll make enough of an impression. I plan to wow some teenagers with our old-folk’s moves.”
“Oh no.” Brooke covered her face with her free hand. “You aren’t going to ask the band to play the ‘Electric Slide’ or ‘Macarena,’ are you?”
“I am now!”
“Trevor.”
“You know I love to dance.” He gave her a cheeky grin, his dimples on full display, still taking her breath away.
“And I love you,” she said, her heart pounding in sync with each word.
Trevor’s bright eyes glistened as he placed his hand over hers. “I love you too.” He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. “Come on, let’s go to our prom.”
Epilogue
One month later
“The verandah looks amazing.” Brooke squeezed his arm, her smile brilliant. “And this was all your idea?”
“Most of it.” Trevor took in the sight of the woman beside him, dark hair worn down, set off by her white dress and sweater. No tension marred her brow, her shoulders loose and relaxed as she leaned forward in her chair.
“Good job.”
“I told you I work best under pressure. Sophie said we had a few weeks and Mother’s Day brunch needed to be special. Now, here we are.”
He’d worked with his sister to bring his Italian villa idea to life for this brunch. Marco had prepared a northern-Italian-inspired menu, they’d ordered wine from Jolie to complement, the décor was rustic, fresh and classic. All white flowers, greenery, white candles, and some awesome carved wooden bowls for the breads.
“I mean it though. You really have a knack for this,” Brooke said.
His chest swelled and his face cramped from smiling.
He did have a knack for this. The prom had been a roaring success. So much so, Brooke had been approached by Dorian’s mom to host her law firm’s Christmas party.
And she’d asked if Trevor would consult.
Things were happening for him. Plans.
He’d always avoided plans like the plague, but now, opportunities lay before him and he welcomed the option of making plans.
Roark joined them at their table, and he pulled out a chair for Madison.
On one side of Trevor was his brother, Dev, on the other, a woman he never could’ve predicted would be the one for him. Across from him sat his mother. Another prediction he never would’ve made. Their mother, and all the Bradley siblings, together on Mother’s Day.
Everyone in a good mood, everyone flourishing.
“They’re here!” Brooke all but jumped from her chair. She waved to Dorian and Lance and grabbed the manila envelope she’d laid on the table.
Trevor was right behind her.
Dorian and Brooke shared a hug. “Thank you so much for coming up here on Mother’s Day,” Brooke said. “We really wanted to see you guys.”
“You brought your folks, I hope.” Trevor shook hands with Lance.
“They’re behind us. They ran into someone they knew in the lobby and got distracted.”
Brooke beamed, almost at a Dorian level of enthusiasm. “That’s okay. We have some news for both of you first.”
“You’re getting married,” Dorian blurted.
“What?” Brooke paled.
“No,” Trevor said at the same time. “I mean, not no as in never. Right?” He looked to Brooke.
Brooke gazed at him, her affection completely transparent. “Right.” She turned to Dorian. “Just not now.”
In that moment, he wanted to grab her and kiss her.
But they had business to attend to first.
“Our surprise has to do with you,” he said.
“Here.” Brooke passed Dorian the envelope.
Dorian opened it and pulled out a piece of a paper.
“What’s this?”
“That is a copy of a filing. The filing of a lawsuit,” Brooke said. “Sadly, I know way too much about these. But this is a good one.”
Dorian read the paper, Lance leaning over to see too. They both scowled in confusion.
Brooke clapped her hands together, lacking the patience to wait on such good news. “The school district is suing the owners of Zen.”
“What?” They both lit up, staring with wide eyes.
“To get your money. The school district is going after them to have the court award your money back.”
“Plus damages,” Trevor added.
“You’re…” Dorian blinked. “You’re lying.”
“Nope.” Brooke’s smile was infectious. Trevor’s face began to hurt.
“Oh my—You think it will work?”
“Most likely. It is the school district, after all.”
“Oh, my God!” Dorian jumped up and down, and went in for another hug.
“We should all know by the summer.”
“That is awesome.” Lance took the paper to look it over.
“That’s why we wanted you guys here for Mo
ther’s Day. We all need to celebrate. Your brunch and your parents’ brunch is on the house.”
“You guys are the best.” Dorian clasped her hands together in front of her chest. “Thank you.”
“It was our pleasure,” Brooke said. “Truly.”
“And then we can turn around and pay you guys for the best prom ever.”
“No, no. We couldn’t accept payment. We wanted to do the right thing.”
“We’ll have to give you something. The senior class would kill the committee if they knew we didn’t give something back to Chateau Jolie and Honeywilde.”
He shared a look with Brooke.
Well… they wouldn’t say no to a little something.
“Come on.” Trevor held out an arm. “We have a table for you and your folks right over here.”
They got Dorian and Lance and their parents seated and made their way back to their spots.
“They were so happy. Did you see their faces?” Brooke whispered.
“I did.” He held his hand out for a small high-five, as he pulled out her chair.
“We are kind of heroic, huh?”
Trevor sat down, surrounded by family and friends and the woman he loved. And all of them believed in him.
He leaned over and gave Brooke a quick kiss on the cheek. “Turns out, we make a pretty great team.”
About the Author
Heather McGovern writes contemporary romance in swoony, southern settings. While her love of travel and adventure takes her far, there is no place quite like home. She lives in South Carolina with her husband and son, and a collection of Legos that’s threatening to take over the house. When she isn’t writing, she’s working out, or binging on books and Netflix.
She is a member of Romance Writers of America, as well as Carolina Romance Writers, and she’s represented by Nicole Resciniti of The Seymour Agency.
Connect with Heather on her website, Facebook, Twitter, or her group blog. She’d love to hear to from you!
www.heathermcgovernnovels.com
www.facebook.com/Heather.McGovern.Novels
www.twitter.com/heathermcgovern
www.badgirlzwrite.com
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