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Brooks relaxed some. “I don’t want to argue with you either.”
“How disappointing,” I teased. “Does that mean you think I’m right?”
“No.” He strode my way as if he were daring himself to get closer to his daddy. He dropped onto the seat next to me. “I promised my mother I would be courteous to you if I saw you today.”
I scrunched my nose. “What’s with your formality? Mother? Courteous? Did they teach you that in law school?”
“I find people take me more seriously when I drop the accent and speak properly.”
“Properly? You grew up in Texas, and we have mommas down here; and we aren’t courteous, we have manners. The kind of manners where you wouldn’t have to promise your momma you would be kind to me—that would already be a given.”
His left eyebrow arched so debonairly I wanted to swoon. “Am I the only one expected to have manners?”
I slapped my chest. “Are you suggesting that I don’t? I’m hurt.” I smirked.
“You are just like I remember.”
“And how would that be?”
“Infuriating but . . .” He paused.
“But what?”
He stared blankly at the monitor displaying Tom’s vitals. “Never mind.”
“Oh no, you can’t make a statement like that and not finish it.”
“Of course I can.”
“Fine. I’ll finish it for you. Let’s go with infuriating but irresistible.”
He chuckled while rubbing his neck. “I’ll let you have that.”
That made my pulse tick up a bit. “So, uh, how is your momma this morning?”
Brooks was looking everywhere but at his daddy. “She’s resting now, and then she’s going to pick up Carly and her family from the airport later.”
“I bet she’s excited to see her grandsons, at least.”
Brooks flashed me a genuine smile. “We both are.”
That surprised me. I wondered what kind of uncle Brooks was to Carly’s boys.
“Are they all staying with you?”
“I suppose,” he sighed, not sounding thrilled. “My condo isn’t designed for houseguests.”
Why didn’t it surprise me that he lived in a condo? “You know, they could stay at your daddy’s. I have a key, and the house is in great condition. Plenty of room for everyone. Besides, it’s closer to the hospital.”
One thing Tom hadn’t let go of was the home he had raised his family in. It was almost sad how religiously he had kept it clean and just the way it had always been. Honestly, it looked as if it were frozen in 1999. The house was filled with big, clunky wood pieces. The entertainment center alone probably weighed a couple of tons. The floral furniture was so retro it was adorable. Tom had even covered it in plastic to preserve it. He loved telling us how June had dragged him around for months, going to every furniture store in Texas, until she had found the perfect living room set. He talked the salesman into giving them the set off the showroom floor so June didn’t have to wait any longer.
“I don’t know.” Brooks seemed uneasy with the thought. Probably because it might mean that he would actually have to come home.
“Think about it.”
“I will. So, what did you do all night here?” He seemed anxious to change the subject.
“Mostly talked to him and caught up on our book club reading for the month.”
“I can’t believe you and Tom have a book club.”
I refrained from rolling my eyes. “Your daddy thought it would keep his mind sharp, and he likes to do it as a way to connect with Carly. This month we’re reading Twilight because it’s Carly’s favorite book.”
“The book about sparkly vampires?” Brooks cringed.
“You make it sound so bad.” I grinned.
“I never understood the appeal. The main character sounded like a stalker, climbing through her window and watching her sleep at night.”
“How do you know he did that?”
Brooks’s ears tinged pink. “I dated a woman who was obsessed with it.”
“Morgan?” I did my best to not snarl her name.
“No. She has more sense than to read such foolishness.”
I tilted my head. “Why is it foolishness? Just because it isn’t one person’s cup of tea, doesn’t mean that it doesn’t have value. The book obviously filled a need, judging by its popularity when it first came out.”
“What need would that be?” He sounded like he was putting me on trial.
“The need to be loved at any cost.”
“That’s a fantasy.”
“Perhaps. Every relationship involves some risk—women want to know that the person they love thinks they’re worth it.”
He studied me for a moment, and a slight softness washed over his features, making me think he was beginning to understand. Until he opened his mouth again. “Men need to stalk women to prove this?”
I sighed loudly. “You’re obviously missing the point. But . . . ,” I gave him a crooked grin, “if I remember correctly, there used to be this boy who would crawl through my window at night unbeknownst to my daddy. Would you consider yourself a stalker?”
