Brooklyn folded her arms. “Asking me to spend Thanksgiving with you is bigger than just a way to get to know me better.”
“Yes. I’m willing to cancel my plans in Dallas because I’d rather see if you could be my new family. If we continue to vibe like I believe we could, then for me it’s the start of us.”
She bit back her smile. “If we don’t?”
“Then hopefully we can stand each other enough to have a pleasant dinner, and I’ll catch a late flight and go see my people.”
Brooklyn inhaled and exhaled deeply. “Trying to wrap my head around what you’re suggesting. All of this is fast.”
“It is fast. But in my position, where can I meet a woman who I believe is worthy of the love I plan to give her and that I hope she can give me?” I pointed at her. “If you say ‘church’, we can return to my car right now. Every time I set foot in a church, the most aggressive women somehow find a way to sit next to me. The church mouse, whom I really like, is too shy or married.”
“Now, I’m a mouse?” She asked with a slight twist of her neck, though her brown eyes danced.
I chuckled. “You said I’m a unicorn.”
“Tit for tat.” Brooklyn smiled before tugging on my sleeve. “Let’s go back. I’ve had four hours of sleep in thirty-six hours, and I don’t want to seem rude by yawning or falling asleep on you.”
Immediately contrite, I took her hand. “Sorry, I should’ve asked if you were up to walking.”
She squeezed my hand. “I wanted to be here with you. My body is screaming ‘go home’.”
Before she could protest, I picked her up in my arms. Her laughing squeal warmed my heart. She wrapped her arms around my neck. “You are such a show off. Even if these arms and your lungs are about to burst from holding me, you’ll pretend you’re good, right?”
“If you stop wiggling, I’ll be fine.” Years of working out made carrying Brooklyn easy. “I rarely meet quiet beauties, especially a brilliant doctor, who may be reserved and shy yet capable of loving me deeply and strongly.”
Brooklyn gazed at me. “How do you know that’s how I would love?”
He said wistfully, “I married a quiet beauty.”
She placed her hand over my heart. “Sounds like you really loved her?”
A vision of Darren as she looked on our wedding day drew a willing smile. “Will always love her. Doesn’t mean that I’m not ready to give another woman my all in ways I never gave her.”
Brooklyn tucked her head against my chest, held tight to me, and we remained quiet until we were back in my car and returned to the hospital parking lot. Once we approached her gray Lexus, she shifted toward me and pulled one leg underneath her in the passenger seat. “I’m in my third year of residency in Emergency Medicine. It takes a lot of my time, and I have another year. I can make time for you. Just not sure if it will be enough for you. Marriage and children would have towait at least until I finish my residency, and even then, I would need a true partner helping me juggle family and my profession. I’m not your superwoman and won’t pretend I can do it all. Men usually want to be a woman’s all, and I can’t and won’t promise that.” She shook her head. “Once again, my mama would pop me again. She would shout that I’m finding reasons why we wouldn’t work instead of why we would. She believes in love and taking risks with men.”
I turned my hand in hers and entwined our fingers. “And you don’t?”
“I already know why loving a man is hard for me. It’s been my mother and me most of my life. She actually lives with me now. Left Alabama because she missed me too much. We take care of each other. My father isn’t necessarily a deadbeat, just a musician who barely made ends meet, so child support was nonexistent. When you learn early on that relying on men to take care of you is a foolish decision, and then love confirms your original belief, it's hard to open my arms wide and welcome the next man.” She blew out her breath so that it made a whistling sound. “I’m the biggest hypocrite. I hate it when women who say they want love act like I’m acting right now. You’re being honest with me and intentional in your questions, and I’m ready to bolt from this car like you’ve done something wrong.”
We quietly assessed each other in the small confines of my car. My gaze dropped to her pouty lips, and her breath hitched. She wanted me. Lust filled her body. Possibility danced in her heart if her bright eyes were any indication. Yet, fear led her mind, and I didn’t know if I had it in me again to convince a woman that I was safe to love.
“Then go,” I commanded softly. “If this is all too much, open the door and leave. As you so eloquently told me earlier, you’ll be making the biggest mistake if you do.”
She tightly shut her eyes. “I’m sorry...I can’t...Mr. St...Carter.”
The throatiness of her voice as she said my name drummed up thoughts of me between her legs, in my bed, and in my life. I had to try at least once more. “Yes, you can. I told you I have no expectations for the next two days. We can take it slow.”
Her eyes popped open. “No, I meant that I can’t leave this car. Too afraid that if I step out, I’ll wake up, and this would be a dream. Scared that you’ll leave here and return to your senses, and this is the last time I’ll ever see you.”
Hope filled my heart as I reassured her, “I used to be one woman’s dream, and another woman was my dream. I want to be your reality. Real love. Being honest, open, and there for each other even when we don’t fucking want to do it anymore. Fighting fair and not below the belt when we’re angry with each other. I’m not playing you and won’t ghost you whether you get out of my car right now or you stay.” I picked up my cell and swiped to the picture I took of us. “Over sixty thousand likes so far. The world already approves.”
Brooklyn covered her mouth with cupped hands. “Oh, God. How many followers do you have?”
“Over seven million. Not as many as when I played, but still a lot.”
“We haven’t even talked about what it means to be with you.” She looked at me, worry shading her pretty face. “I’m a lowkey and private person.”
“I can delete the photo or edit it to say you’re a fan or the doctor who helped my son.”Shit.I was already messing up with her. Of course, she wouldn’t want all that attention. What if she were seeing someone? Not being married doesn’t mean single. “Do you have a man or are you seeing someone?”
