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How could I love someone I barely knew? Is that how it worked for people? They just met a person and fell for them that easily? I didn’t know the answers because I was unable to compare what I was feeling about Brooke to anybody else I’d known. It was a totally different experience with her. I had no guidebook to spell it out for me, either. This was one I’d have to figure out as I went along.
Time kept marching forward no matter what. The grains of sand continued to fall until the last one slipped through and there were no more. I thought of our dad and some of the conversations we’d had together before he died. One really stuck.
The idea that right now was the most time you had left to live of your life. This day, this hour, this minute of your life—was the greatest amount of time you had remaining. The time you had left only grew shorter . . . and so, more precious.
Maybe the Cohiba was more potent than I thought, because my head was way out into the next galaxy tonight. I took another sip of the Lag and savored it across my tongue.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow, I would text Brooke and let her know I liked the picture she sent me—maybe ask her to dinner in the city. I’d go up to Blackwater in the morning with Lucas and evaluate the property. Then I would figure out what to do and have faith I was making the right decisions for the future.
“So are we going to pl
ay or what?” he asked with a nudge to my shoulder. “Because I wouldn’t dream of denying you the pleasure of losing to me. I have to keep you in line, remind you who has the better skills—the bigger brain.”
“Bigger brain, little brother?” I scoffed. “Bitch, please!” I grabbed a controller and started setting up the newest version of a game he’d created called iInVidiosa. I knew it inside out because I’d invested heavily in its development. Lucas was a brilliant designer, but he didn’t need to hear it from me. The proof was in the half billion dollars we’d made on this one game alone. “Oh, before I forget—Victoria said to tell you hi.”
I caught it. The flash of emotion lasted for only an instant and just appeared in his eyes before he masked it, but I knew what I saw. “Cool,” he said after turning back toward the game. “Tell her congratulations from me.”
So the poor bastard was interested in Victoria, which might have worked out well for the both of them, if not for the fact his friend Clay was planning on marrying her.
ONE shared bottle of Lagavulin, one fine Cuban cigar, and eight hours of sleep with the sound of the ocean against the rocks had worked wonders. I woke up feeling much better, like the cobwebs had been blown out and the dark mask lifted away, so I could see clearly.
I grabbed my phone off the nightstand and fell back onto the bed with a stretch. I opened her text from last night and read it again.
I am honored, Brooke. You remembered our deal to think of me whenever you see a meatball. I hope it was a good thought.
I felt better after I texted her back. It was torture not to respond late last night when it came through. I didn’t expect her to answer me right way, but at least she wouldn’t think I’d blown her off like an arrogant prick. If only she knew what I really wanted to do. I’d drive Lucas’s Escalade over to the cottages above the Fairchild Light, find the one that she lived in, and knock on her door. Then I’d—
Then I’d do what? Take her in my arms and tell her she was the woman I’d been searching for all my life and demand she marry me?
That sounded really fucking stupid and a whole lot like a movie a woman would love to see—but a guy would have to be dragged into the theater without the promise of anal afterward.
This was all seat-of-the-pants stuff for me, and probably not a good idea to be pondering when I was naked in bed and sporting morning wood. I had no idea what I was doing anymore. Scary as fuck, too. To realize my whole life had destabilized because I’d met a girl who’d transformed my idea of what love might be about. I still didn’t know because, well . . . I didn’t even really know her yet.
My phone vibrated and my heart dropped like a rock when I read what she’d texted.
May I call you right now, Caleb? Always so proper.
Of course. I tapped out with shaky fingers.
There went my heart again, pounding painfully with nervousness when my phone started going off. I gave it two rings before I picked up. “Brooke?”
“Good morning, Caleb.” Why was her voice so soothing? And what am I needing soothing from?
“It is a good morning, I agree.” You called. “How were the meatballs?”
She laughed softly, and I pictured her lips as she did it. “Remarkably good, considering where they came from.”
“Oh, where did you eat last night?”
“Blackstone Therapy Center with my nan. That was hospital food if you can believe it.”
“She’s in the hospital now?” Jesus . . .
“It’s a rehabilitation hospital and temporary, so not for much longer. She had a bad fall five months ago and needed to have a knee replacement.”
“I’m glad to hear she will be leaving soon.” I couldn’t help wondering about the medical costs and how she was paying for it since there were no medical benefits forthcoming from her grandmother’s employment at Blackwater. Ergo the need for a second job.
“Oh, I truly am, thank you, Caleb.” Such proper manners my sweet Brooke used in conversation. I’d love to see her lose control, though—for example like when we were in the heat of fucking. My dick started throbbing.
