Part 2 (2/2)
She snorted. ”You might have to add a few items to that list in order to reach 'quite impressive.' ”
Opening the car door, he shook his head. ”Even if I was in the market for a wife- a phrase I really hate, by the way- you're right about us. You know too much. See, there's no mystery, no romance, no excitement. I'm just Brooks to you. I think a mail order bride is my only hope.”
He could hear her giggling as he crossed in front of the car. Sliding into the driver's seat, the small c.o.c.kpit of the car smelled wonderful, like some favorite candy from his childhood that he couldn't quite place.
The bright sunlight glanced off the inside of the console. He slipped on his sungla.s.ses and backed out of the circular drive. The long, narrow road to the main street was filled with dips and b.u.mps. He should find someone to fill it in for them before the rainy season starts. A good, hard downpour and that Mississippi clay washed toward the lowest point, which was the pasture to the north, leaving the driveway rutted and uneven.
Again, the light waft of something he half-remembered. ”Have you been baking again?”
”Me? Never unless I have to. But Mama loved that cake from Bravard's and now she wants me to make it all the time.”
He grinned, wondering how she was going to hide all those cake boxes. ”You'll have to explain some day.”
She blew out a breath. ”I know. But it's nice to have her approval for just a little bit.”
He shot her a glance, startled. What kind of mother wouldn't approve of Caroline? She'd succeeded in everything she'd ever tried. The sadness in her statement was just one more point for Caroline getting out of the house on a regular basis, and not just for a run.
”Have you talked to Manning lately?”
”Not much. He calls, but doesn't really seem like he wants to talk. Just sort of...” Brooks thought for a moment. ”Checking in.”
She nodded, as if it made sense. It didn't make much sense to him, but there it was. He missed his brother, missed their long talks while fis.h.i.+ng and the Sat.u.r.day afternoons spent watching baseball. Now that the season had started, he noticed his absence even more. Shouting at the TV as the Braves struggled through a tough game wasn't as fun without Manning.
”I bet Lauren Fairfield will be there.” Her tone was unenthusiastic.
”Mrs. Reynolds' granddaughter?”
”That's the one. She's writing a book on Southern mansions. Got a big, fancy book deal for one of those glossy coffee table photography books that weighs thirty pounds.”
He glanced at her, surprised to see the slight frown between her brows. ”Jealous?”
”How can I not be? I've been hearing about her my whole life. Lauren this, Lauren that.” She flapped a hand. ”Lauren graduated from Yale summa c.u.m laude and Lauren was offered six jobs right out of college and Lauren learned Spanish by hiking in the Andes.” She hauled in a breath.
”I've never met her, but I wouldn't cross her off before you even set eyes on the girl.” Caroline was generally an open, friendly person, but she did get a little jealous now and then.
She let out a harrumph and crossed her arms.
Brooks kept his eyes on the road. Something was bothering her, and if he waited long enough, it would all come rus.h.i.+ng out. Usually sooner than later.
She adjusted her skirt a little, letting the silk fall against her tanned knees. ”Mrs. Gray mentioned you had been invited to Marian's for dinner.”
”Mmmm.” So he had. Several times.
”And?” She was looking straight at him now, those green eyes narrowed.
”And what?” He slowed the car and let it idle, pausing at the entrance to the main road. There wasn't any traffic to speak of on a Sat.u.r.day afternoon, just a few slow-moving vehicles in the distance. The heat waves s.h.i.+mmering on the blacktop made the cars seem as if they were moving underwater.
”Why didn't you go?”
He felt his brows go up and searched for words. He didn't want to be unkind. There was nothing more irritating than a woman who was desperate to marry just because it was on her schedule of tasks to accomplish. He didn't want to be someone's 'to do' list.
”I was busy.” And he'd continue to be busy until he was too old to be considered a candidate for Marian's desperate bachelor-go-round.
He moved to s.h.i.+ft but her touch on his arm halted him mid-motion. ”Doing what?”
”Why all the questions, Finley? My dad wanted me to help him fix the storm windows, remember?” He shook his head, feeling as if the logic was falling out of the conversation.
”Can you take off your sungla.s.ses?” Her voice was soft and her hand hadn't left his arm. ”I can't see your eyes. It's hard to talk to you when I can't see your eyes.”
Brooks glanced in the rearview mirror and frowned. They'd talked a thousand times before- with sungla.s.ses, in deep shade on a hot day, in the rain, while running the last of five painful miles at sunrise. She'd never needed to see his eyes before. He slipped them off and half-turned his body toward her. ”Better?”
”Much.” Her lips tugged up a bit although her eyes were still somber. ”We're friends, right?”
If he knew where the conversation was headed, he'd feel better about answering, but as it was, he only had one answer. ”Always.”
”If you wanted to go to dinner at Marian's, you'd tell me? If you skipped it because you had a date, you'd tell me? Or if you were plain sick of my annoying self and wanted to hang out on the couch watching football, you'd tell me?” She actually looked nervous, as if she wasn't quite sure what he'd answer.
He let out a long breath and ran a hand over his face. ”So, Mrs. Gray said, that Marian said, that I'd refused to have dinner with her because I had a date.” He wanted to roll his eyes but tried to approach the problem calmly. Small-town gossips had nothing better to do than stir up trouble.
”Something like that.” Bright spots of pink bloomed over her cheekbones. It was ridiculous, but here they were, dissecting the latest round of hearsay.
”And why do you care?”
”Excuse me?” Her voice went two octaves higher than normal and her hand dropped from his arm.
”Really. Why do you care what Mrs. Gray thinks? You've never cared about what other people thought before.”
”Well, it was just...” Her voice trailed off. ”She made it sound like you were lying to spare my feelings. And I don't want you to ever lie for me.” She leaned forward, bright blond hair s.h.i.+ning in the sunlight, her face tight with emotion. ”If it's something I need to hear, don't be afraid, especially if you think I can't handle it. If no else will say it, please be the brave one.”
He stared into her eyes, noting the flecks of gold in the deep green, her features as familiar as his own. ”I've never lied to you.”
Caroline relaxed against the seat, inhaling deeply. ”Good.”
”So, when do you want to hear it?”
Her head popped up from the seat back. ”What?”
”All the things you need to hear.” He flashed a grin and put his shades back on before pulling onto the main road. He had a whole list of subjects, starting with the absurd amount of time she spent locked in that old house.
”About Marian?”
He choked back a laugh. ”You're obsessed with her. Afraid she's going to snap up all the most eligible bachelors?”
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