Flirting With Disaster (16 page)

And that was one of the things he'd asked
Brooke not to do with him.

His phone buzzed again, and he checked the
message and replied back to Tate. Brooke sent a look his way that
only added fuel to the fire. As the minutes ticked by his jaw
clenched tighter, but Dane was...in a relationship with Brooke. Or
trying to be.

He scrubbed a hand over his face and then
put Jon down between them on the couch. Brooke's brow furrowed, but
he put out his hand, motioning his thumb to the kitchen. When they
made it, she crossed her arms and leaned against the island.

He crowded her space, meeting her gaze. “The
kid is asleep. Let's argue.”

Her nostrils flared. “'You know how women
are.' We're just irrational and shit.”

He blinked so caught off guard. “That's what
you're mad about?”

“
And you see absolutely
nothing wrong with that statement?” She put a hand on his chest.
“Move back. You're looming, now, too.”

He stepped back, shoving his hands in his
pockets. “Let me get this straight. I've sat on the couch for the
last few hours—”

He stopped. Found the right words. “I've
been remembering why I left my ex. And you've been angry with me
because I know you can't keep a damn secret.”

She scoffed. “If that's what you said, then
no, I wouldn't be annoyed right now. But after saying the most
dick-ish thing in history you asked me to make you a sandwich. I
should have—”

“
I would have made you
one.” He just stared at her for a second.

“
When? Please tell me when
you've offered to cook in the past few weeks since we decided to
date. You haven't. It's become my job, and I've done it and thought
nothing of it.”

He could only look at her. “We're having an
argument because I don't cook enough?”

“
We're having an argument
because you're patting me on the head, reassuring me I can't keep
secrets because no woman can. And that I shouldn't be pissed that
you've said that. And you're still looming.”

He lost his hold on his temper. “Because I'm
a foot taller than you.”

“
There. Right there is the
condescending bullshit that used to drive me crazy about you. I
used to point it out. I used to not make excuses for
you.”

Dane's blood ran cold, because he knew where
this was going. “I have nothing but respect for you.” His phone
buzzed in his pocket but he ignored the text. “If I didn't, we
wouldn't be talking right now. I wouldn't care.”

“
And I'm telling you when
you say stuff like that it bugs me. It reminds me of my ex, but you
brush it aside. You're dismissive. You told me to tell you when you
pissed me off. I am.”

His phone buzzed again.

She huffed. “Answer your damn phone.”

He rolled his shoulders before checking the
message and replied. He turned his phone off. Her brows rose at the
action.

He explained, “We're not done talking and it
was only going to keep ringing.”

“
Or because I can't keep a
secret?”

He shook his head. “So what do you want me
to do? Ask you for permission to speak, give you the gist and then
wait for you to okay it? You know, just to ensure it's not a dig at
womankind.”

Her lips thinned. “Being mindful isn't that
much to ask.”

His nostrils flared. “I'm asking you to
trust me. I'm saying this is one secret I know you can't keep. You
should know me by now.”

She swallowed and looked away. “I do.”

He took another step back, stunned by her
answer and all the things she wasn't saying. She didn't fill the
silence with explanations so what he thought wasn't exactly what
she meant.

“
Guess I'm just a
misogynistic asshole to you,” he whispered.

“
Dane,” she sounded tired
and defeated.

“
Brooke.” For the first
time in weeks, he said her name with a note of derision.

She flinched, and he tried to calm down,
tried not to see the writing on the wall. “Brooke,” he said, softer
this time. “This argument has nothing to do with what I said.”

Her shoulders lowered and her head tilted
back as though the words hurt her. “It has everything to do with
it.”

Nothing he said would be right. Nothing he'd
ever do would make her trust him, make her believe that he always
saw her as an equal. This wasn't about him. That's why they'd been
fighting for a year, and suddenly he was just so tired of it. “I
should go.”

Her mouth thinned. “Because you don't want
to be here anymore?”

He shook his head.
“Because
you
don't
want me here.” And that truth dug into his gut. “I don't think less
of you. Period. I don't think your place is in the kitchen. I don't
think you should have to cater to me, because I have a dick. I'm
dismissive of the fact you think I do. You should know me better.”
He sighed. “You shouldn't be scared of loving me.”

She gasped. He cupped her cheek because he'd
seen it. He'd felt it. There was nothing about her he didn't
notice. Not since the first time they'd met. She crossed her
arms.

She glanced at him and unshed tears had made
her eyes glossy. “I do know you.”

It felt like someone hit him in the chest,
because the accusation just sat there between them. His jaw
clenched. “Then tell me, what is this argument about?”

“
A year ago I would have
told you to go fuck yourself, but I didn't today. I sat on that
couch and swallowed it down. And when I bring it up, you pat me on
the head.”

“
I never asked you to be my
little woman.”

She flinched. He waited a few seconds to see
if she'd say anything else, but she wouldn't look at him. Finally,
he said, “I'm tired of fighting, Brooke.”

He pulled his keys out of his pocket and
stared blankly at the key ring as the silence filled the house. If
she couldn't see that he loved her, then there was nothing more he
could do. So he clenched his fist around the keys and walked out of
her house.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Brooke grunted and put all her weight on the
wrench, but the bolt refused to budge. She gritted her teeth,
cursed viciously and kept trying. Her brother's hands suddenly
wrapped around her shoulders and he tugged her away from the
car.

“
Don't touch me,” she
barked at him and immediately regretted the harsh tone she used.
“Sorry. Just get the bolt off for me. I can finish this car and
we'll be done. With everything.”

He turned her around, his brows furrowed.
“You've been shitty to me for the past week. It's why I've
stayed.”

“
You're suffering from
Stockholm Syndrome. Go home. I'm fine. I just have to flush this
transmission. I can do it in my sleep.”

“
You're not
fine.”

“
Then I will be.” She tried
to infuse a confidence she didn't really feel.

She hadn't bitched about
his extended stay, because they didn't talk about
him
. But Pierce had moved
back in six days ago. Probably after hearing some choice gossip in
town. He hovered. He made her go home so she wouldn't work herself
into a massive heart attack. But she couldn't sleep. He'd stay up
with her—with non-caffeinated tea—and they'd talk about anything,
everything but Dane.

He'd held his tongue for a week, and she
wondered why he’d chosen that particular moment to stop. “I just
need time,” she said.

His jaw tightened. “I hear you crying.
That's why I get up.”

Her eyes widened because she wasn't wailing.
She'd just get hit with...the sniffles. “I'm watching sappy
movies.”

He didn't even blink at the lie. “You could
just talk to Dane.”

How many times had she'd thought the same?
Too many. She'd replay the petty argument in her head and put her
phone back down. Okay. The argument may have started off small but
it was all her fears, all his fears, right there on display. They
both had walked away. Both had lost.

“
That ship has sailed.” Her
voice wavered, because she didn't want it to be. She'd fucked up
and didn't know how to fix it. She hadn't been strong. She hadn't
been standing up for herself. She'd been a bitch. It was like
watching some monster take over her body and say things she would
have never said even when they had their war of words. She'd hurt
him and her pride hadn't let her give. She should have
given.

So when her brother said, “Because you let
it sail away,” Brooke had to swallow back tears.

“
Pierce,” she
whispered.

“
He loves you, and if your
nighttime crying is any indication, I'd say you love him
too.”

Her heart ached at his words. “Then why did
he leave? I'm always an asshole.”

“
You gave him no
choice.”

She scoffed and tried to push him away. He
didn't budge.

“
What do you know?” she
threw at him.

“
I know you. You did it to
Mom, and now you're doing it to him.”

Indignant, she said, “What?”

“
She gave you crappy
advice. The kind a mother should never give her daughter. She's not
perfect. She thought she was supporting you, comforting you. Her
comfort and support was just batshit crazy, and outdated. But Dane
isn't batshit crazy so what has he done that's so
unforgivable?”

Brooke ran a hand down her ponytail. “He
made me see exactly what it would be like being married to him.
He'd say something that would make my teeth clench, and I would
love him anyway. Even if it made me feel small, I'd take it because
I loved him.”

“
It's not Dane's fault you
lost your spine.”

Her gaze snapped up to his as she gasped.
“We're done talking about this.”

He stepped in her way. “That's on you. Do
you really think he'd love you less if you called him an asshole?
Hell, he loved you while you did.”

“
What are you talking
about?” Her heart started to pound.

Her brother's brown eyes glittered with
annoyance. “I'm talking about all the stories I've been forced to
listen to for the past five weeks. Everyone stops me and tells me
about a time you guys went at each other's throats.” He flicked her
in the forehead. “He's loved you before he ever touched you. No man
in his right mind would go out of his way to argue with you or put
up with your prickly-ass if he didn't.” He flicked her again. “So
did you or you wouldn't have done your best for the past year to
fuck that up. If anything makes him crazy, that's it. And so are
you.”

He flicked her harder and glared. “You miss
him, and I'm tired of watching it. If you lie to me about it I will
throw you over my shoulder and walk you to his bookstore and make
you talk to him.”

She could see on his face he would.
“Bullying asshole.”

“
And I still love
you.”

That hit her right in her constant soft
spot. And it made her mad. “Fuck you, Pierce.”

His voice went low. “And I still love
you.”

She made a frustrated sound and tried to
push him out of her way.

He sighed and picked her up like she weighed
five pounds. Within a few feet he had marched out of her
garage.

“
Don't you dare,
Pierce.”

“
Say it.”

She considered head-butting him and fighting
with him just like they used to. The stubborn crease above his brow
told her he'd drag her to Dane's store even if he had a
concussion.

“
Fine,” she said. “Okay. I
love him.”

“
And?”

When she didn't answer, he took another step
forward. The townsfolk walked around them, not bothering to say hi
or find out what was going on. So they probably had stopped him to
talk. She took in her brother's face. Pierce was smart, cunning,
and just as stubborn as she was, if not more so.

“
He is chauvinistic,
misogynistic and just a general pain in my ass,” she
said.

He moved again, so she added, “And I'm
shrill, prickly, and God bless any man who falls in love with
me.”

“
Nope. Not good enough.” He
moved again.

She'd been crying since Dane had walked out
the door because the truth had settled on her bones. For a week
she'd been a goddamn coward because she hadn't wanted to admit it
out loud. But Pierce was more stubborn than her.

“
I pushed him away, because
how I feel about him scares me blind,” she said fast as though to
rip off a Band-Aid. “There. I said it. Now put me down before I
kick you in the nuts.”

He dropped her but gave her a steadying
hand. “Glad we had this talk. Now go tell him, because he looks
like shit. I'm also tired of him trying to talk to me so he can
know how you're doing.”

That stilled her. “You talked to Dane?”

“
More than
once.”

He'd sent her emails, but they were always
professional, haughty, and straight to the point. He was first up
for the calendar shoot and she'd been trying to figure out a way to
show up. The town was small, but if a person wanted to hide from
someone, it would be easy. She thought he'd been avoiding her…that
he’d stopped caring for her.

She balled her fists. “He walked out on
me.”

“
Did you tell him you
wanted him to stay?”

She punched him in the shoulder.

He pointed at her and added, “Your
fault.”

She couldn't deny it. When she thought back
on it, all she felt was shame, anger, and despair. “In that moment
I really just felt like he wanted me to be that girl again, waiting
on him hand and foot. No matter what he said, actions speak louder
than words. And wasn't I so pathetic that I'd still wanted him?
Wasn't that exactly what I feared would happen?”