Brodie tipped his head, watching, intrigued at what seemed to him to be a deliberate brush-off.
“Don’t be silly.” Bella squeezed her arm. “I’m just happy you could pop by.” Then she turned to Brodie and said, “Maeve’s a doctor in the ER.”
“Impressive.” Brodiethought of Noah saying that she was too clever to fall for his charm, the idea of it amused him. “Save any lives today?” he quipped.
“Yeah, I did actually,” she replied flatly.
Brodie’s lips twitched, both from the unaccustomed sting of a snub and in self-rebuke at his flippancy.Must do better.Beside him, he saw Bella raise a brow, clearly tickled that Maeve wasn’t the usual putty in his hands.
Before he could redeem himself, however, Logan came over to join them.
His older brother was so relaxed and happy, he looked literally ten years younger, his hands threading round Bella’s waist as he stood behind her. “You made it!” he said to Maeve, who was all smiles for Logan, Brodie noticed.
There was some chat about an emergency in the ER, how Maeve couldn’t get away. She asked all the right questions, listening intently to the details of the wedding, and Brodie did the same, even though he’d been there and seen it first-hand. But while they talked, he let his eyes subtly skim over her: her pale—ringless—fingers holding the glass of water, the way the buttons on her dress had been done up so quickly that she’d missed one and he could see the shaded skin of her stomach; the curl of her hair that settled enticingly just below her collarbone. Yes, he was very intrigued, even more so because she seemed completely disinterested in him.
Over on the dance floor the song changed and Willow whooped because it was one of her favorites, and turning back to their group said, “Come on, let’s dance!” Reaching over, she yanked Brodie by the sleeve of his jacket.
He laughed. “All right, I’m coming,” he said, then he turned to Maeve, his arm outstretched in invitation. “You dance?” he asked.
“No,” she replied, deep, brown eyes steadfast.
ChapterTwo
Maeve slipped away from Bella and Logan’s wedding as soon as politely possible and walked fast down the sidewalk, berating herself for even going. In retrospect, it had been a dreadful idea. She’d had the perfect excuse not to go and yet she hadwantedto be there, to congratulate her friend, Bella, see her in her beautiful dress looking happy and content and living the dream she deserved. So she had risked the possibility of bumping into Brodie Carter, but from what she knew of Brodie, she’d presumed he’d be far too distracted with the other more glamorous guests to take any notice of her.
But then he’d sidled over, looking all effortlessly gorgeous and Hollywood-esque in his pale blue suit with his artfully mussed hair.
She shook her head up at the cloudless sky at her own stupidity.Whatwas she thinking? She could only blame tiredness from her twenty-four-hour shift for clouding her judgment. But of all the people there, why had Brodie had to come over to the bar the ten minutes that she was there?“Why?”she said out loud.
She dropped her head, looked down at her boots pounding the sidewalk. Perhaps he’d already worked his way round the available females in the crowd before she arrived, and the sight of fresh pickings was what drew his attention.
Her house was a block from the orchard. She could see the rusted wire fence that marked her little garden in contrast to the white picket fences of her neighbors. She really should get it replaced. If only she had time. All she wanted right now was sleep. Since leaving the hospital she had fantasized about her soft white sheets and the precious calm of her bedroom.
She reached her front gate and was just going to unlatch it when she heard the sound of running footsteps on the sidewalk behind her.
She glanced and what she saw made her stomach tighten.
Brodie was coming toward her, at not quite a jog, more of a languid lope, his suit jacket undone, his expression knowing, which only made the panic rise to Maeve’s throat.
He came to a stop in front of her, unruffled by the exertion, running a hand through his still perfect hair, and said, “Stanford Stadium. I was doing a solo concert. You were there with Ethan’s friend Piper Adams. Ethan got you backstage passes. You were wearing a little pink skirt and silver boots. Yeah?”
Everyone in Autumn Falls knew the story of the Carter brothers forming a band and auditioning for a TV talent show to cheer their mom up when she was undergoing chemotherapy. No one had ever expected them to win, let alone go on to become the world famous, multi-platinum boy band, Silver Sky. Nor that Brodie Carter, when the band split, would go on to have a chart-topping solo career. But looking at him now, with his glinting eyes and razor-sharp cheekbones, radiating an effortless confidence, it was obvious that he was destined for stardom.
Maeve found herself struggling with how to reply, and in her panic went with the knee-jerk reaction of denial. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Brodie’s mouth stretched into a crooked, cocksure grin. “Sure you do. I remember that skirt.”
She shook her head. “I really, honestly don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He laughed, dimples in both cheeks, eyes creasing slightly at the sides. She thought of all the women who went weak at the knees at that laugh, at that laser-like attention. She had of course fallen for it herself, dressed in the pink leather skirt and the silver cowboy boots she’d borrowed off Piper after much cajoling. “That really doesn’t sound like something I’d wear.”
But she had worn it. And dressed in something completely different to her normal style, her make-up done by Piper who was amazing at that kind of thing, and just totally relieved to have a break from her grueling college workload, she had felt like a different person. A person who had the confidence to respond when she saw Brodie’s eyes light up at the sight of her—everyone at school had loved Brodie and he’d never even cast a glance her way. So to see that smile focused on her alone, when only half an hour before she’d heard his name chanted by a stadium full of fans, girls next to her crying when he sang the first note while his face was beamed around the stadium on giant screens, it had been intoxicating.
While all the brothers had their fanbase, as the lead singer, Brodie’s star had always shone that little bit brighter, with that magical tone to his voice, even more so when he was up there on his own.
It made Maeve flirt back a little when he flirted. To allow herself a little fun having been cooped up with her books since her second year at Stanford began. It was beguiling to be caught in the glow of someone as famous and beautiful and charming as Brodie Carter was then—that’s what she told herself when she tried to rationalize it later.
Now here Brodie was, leaning up against her neighbor’s fence post, arms crossed, his knowing—almost mocking—smile still in place. “You can deny it all you like, I know it was you. I’m terrible with names but I’m good with faces.” He paused, his mouth tipped up. “And skirts. And silver boots.”
