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Chapter 11
Molly
Seeing Brooks with his family was enlightening. I found myself noting all the differences between Brooks and Todd … and the differences were startling. I thought quiet, broody men were the whole package. They’re so romantic, dramatic, and poised.
But watching my light and cheery best friend roughhouse with his nieces and teasing his mother and sister was … dare I say, attractive?
Of course, I’ve seen Brooks’s charm come out before, especially when he’s around women. But seeing his personality in his natural habitat like I did today gave me a weird feeling in my gut. I wouldn’t call it butterflies … maybe it just surprised me that I noticed how attractive he was.
His romantic attention has never been wholly directed on me, and for the first time since asking him to be my wedding date and faux boyfriend, I'm apprehensive I might not be able to withstand his charm. That I might confuse what’s real and what’s fake … That I could possibly even discover that my best friend is … kind of sexy.
Even despite him being bright and cheerful, blonde and sparkling… not dark and serious at all. What if my type is challenged indefinitely?
Not saying Brooks is my type, of course. But just that … maybe dark and broody isn’t my only type, after all?
Brooks pulls to a stop in my driveway. I don’t get out right away, relishing the warm cabin of his truck and the soothing Christmas music playing on the radio. I glance at him from my seat and notice his backwards baseball cap is back on now that his mom can’t lecture him about it.
Brooks’s elbow goes to the center console and he turns toward me, breaking the silence. “So, is everything set for our trip? The office is closed this week except for Hope checking the messages, right?”
“Yep! We’re good to go. Are you ready for this?”
He leans toward me, the light from my front porch reflecting in his eyes. “Be prepared to have your socks blown off by my boyfriend performance.”
I shake my head like I’m annoyed, but I can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of me. “It will be Oscar-worthy, no doubt.”
“I’d even settle for a daytime Emmy.” He winks. “I’ll pick you up early Tuesday morning?”
I nod. “I expect you to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Are you sure you can manage a six a.m. wake up and still be able to drive us to the airport?” I know how much he hates waking up early.
“Maybe I should hire a car to drive us.” He gives me a boyish grin. “That’s probably what you’re used to. Would a Rolls-Royce suffice?”
I wrinkle my nose as if put off by a Rolls-Royce. “Hm, I guess it’ll work this once. I usually prefer a Mercedes-Benz though.”
He throws his head back and laughs, making his thick, muscular throat visible. I’ve never noticed a man’s throat before … Maybe because Todd’s wasn’t a good one?
Does my noticing Brooks’s throat make his a good one? If it wasn’t then I probably wouldn’t have noticed it. Perhaps it’s the throat muscles that draw all the females' attention to my best friend.
Feeling flustered by where my thoughts have landed me, I unbuckle my seatbelt. “Okay, well ... See you Tuesday. Thanks for taking me out tonight. Your family is awesome.”
He hesitates for the briefest moment, making me wonder what’s going through his mind. “You’re always welcome, Molly.”
I open the truck door and slide out before walking quickly to my front door and unlocking it. Brooks, of course, doesn’t leave until he sees that I’m safely inside my house. I’m glued to the small window at my front door, watching his truck drive off and wondering why I can’t seem to look away.
Early Tuesday morning, Brooks arrives to pick me up. It’s so early, the sun has barely begun rising over the horizon. In other words, way too early for Brooks Windell. I stifle a laugh when I open my front door and see him standing there, all groggy and adorable, with his hair tousled. He’s wearing a hoodie and jeans, and a sleepy expression. Luckily for him, he can pull off the casual, just-rolled-out-of-bed look better than anyone I know.
“Good morning, sleepyhead!” I greet him then turn and reach for my luggage.
Brooks rushes forward, well, as fast as he rushes this early in the morning. “Hands off—let me get that. What kind of lousy fake boyfriend do you think I am?” he teases, taking the suitcase from me and picking it up to carry it down the porch steps. I can tell it’s easy for him to lift, but he groans dramatically, nevertheless. “Geez, woman! How long are you planning on being gone?”
“We’ve been friends for six years, and you’re going to act surprised that I’m not a light packer?”
“True.”
I harumph, but his smirk tells me he knows I’m being sarcastic. “Be right back!” I say. “I made us lattes.”
“Praise the Lord!” he yells up toward the sky.
I duck back inside and grab the lattes from my entryway table, locking the door and pulling it closed behind me with my foot. I walk towards Brooks’s truck, where Brooks is currently lifting my luggage into the backseat. He’s still pretending that my suitcase is too heavy for him, putting on quite a show with lots of groaning and complaining.
