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She nodded again. “I like you too much to muddy your name because of the Clayton family’s dislike for each other. It’s wrong to hurt you and A.J. because of me.”
The sick feeling in Gabe’s gut disappeared. She wasn’t blaming him. She was trying to protect him.
“Who would believe a pretty college girl like you would look twice at a guy my age?”
Her mouth dropped. She tilted her head, bewildered. “What a silly thing to say. Age has nothing to do anything. You’re a fantastic man. Any girl with brains would be interested.”
She was serious. Did that mean she was interested?
Lord, help him.
The tightness in his throat loosened. With a soft murmur he hoped sounded like comfort, he enveloped Brooke in his arms and pulled her to his chest.
She fit perfectly.
He didn’t give a whit about gossip and rumors. Seeing Brooke upset over them, though, bothered him royal.
Stroking the soft hair he’d longed to touch, he rocked her back and forth as he would A.J. His mental alarm warned him that this was not A.J. and that the feelings rattling around in his chest were not paternal. Nor brotherly.
She was too young. He was too old. What would people think?
She’d claimed age didn’t matter, but she’d not walked in his shoes with Tara.
When she shuddered once and burrowed closer, he shut the alarm off and savored the moment to enjoy a beautiful woman in his arms. Not any woman. Brooke Clayton. A few seconds and then a few minutes passed and yet he held her, reluctant to break the mood.
She liked him too much.
He closed his eyes, remembering another time and place, another woman. He’d vowed never again to let his feelings for a woman steal his common sense.
Slowly, surely, and with the strength of will that had forged a corporation, he loosened his embrace and set her away from him.
He liked her too much, too.
Long after Gabe left, Brooke stewed over the events of the day. He’d behaved strangely about Marsha’s ugly remarks, but those minutes in his arms had just about done her in. She’d wanted him to kiss her and when he’d made that silly statement about their age difference, she’d been sorely tempted to kiss him first.
What planet was he from anyway? No one worried about age these days, at least not an age difference of a few years. Well, maybe he was close to ten years older, but the years were not a big deal.
She was washing her face when the light bulb of realization flared. She stared into the mirror and blinked. Maybe Gabe was trying, in his nice way, to let her know that he was not interested in her as a woman. She was his nanny. Maybe he was using the age thing as an excuse to keep her at arm’s length.
She made a face at the mirror. “Shut up. You think too much.”
After dragging a brush over her head, she pulled her hair back with a pink headband and returned to the cleaning frenzy she’d gone on while she cried like a big baby over Marsha’s hateful remarks. After all the years of being bullied by her cousins, she should be strong enough to let their words slide off like rain on plastic. So far, not.
This was one of the many reasons she’d never wanted to live in Clayton again. The memories of Lucy and the tensions with the other side of the family zapped her joy.
According to Arabella, the Bible said to pray for those who despitefully use you. Was it possible to be sincere in a prayer like that? Arabella meant every word, she was sure, but Arabella was a gentle soul who would never hold a grudge.
“Lord,” she said honestly. “I’d rather see Uncle Samuel’s clan move to Siberia, but if You say I should pray for them, I will. And I’ll try to mean it.” She thought hard, attempting to come up with an honest prayer. Finally, it hit her. “Please help my Uncle Samuel’s side of the family find peace and love on the inside. If they feel better about themselves, maybe they’ll be nicer. Amen.”
Granted, the prayer was a weird one but God knew what she was thinking. The next year in Clayton would be much easier if Marsha and Vincent became nicer people.
With a couple of hours left before bedtime, she turned on a CD and went back to cleaning. Other than Arabella’s general upkeep, no one had touched the house since Mom died. Brooke had been the only one still at home at the time. Zach and Vivienne had been long gone and uninterested in anything related to Clayton. They’d come home for the funeral and left just as quickly. But if either of them returned to fulfill the conditions of Grandpa George’s will, they’d need a decent place to stay.
