Not His Type (20 page)

“I don’t know
how to thank you, Marlena!” Brooke said.

“That face is
thanks enough!” Marlena answered, hugging Brooke.

After they left
the salon, Brooke found herself being pulled along to a small boutique.  There,
with the help of a saleswoman, Jazz purchased some makeup.  Before they left
the store, Jazz made Brooke go wash her face and reapply just her usual
mascara.  She gave the surprised saleswoman a conspiratorial look.

“It’s supposed
to be a surprise for someone!” Jazz said.  “A big handsome male someone!”

“Oh, I see!” the
woman said, beaming.  “In that case, let me give you these, too.  Perfume
samples.  You’re bound to find something he’ll like in there.”

As they left the
boutique, Brooke looked at Jazz and said, “Jazz, I can’t afford all of this!”

“Brooke,
listen,” Jazz said.  “I’d like it if you’ll accept this as a gift from Riley
and me.”  She held up a hand to forestall the protest she knew was coming. 
“You’ve helped us out more than you know, and we’ve both come to care for you. 
We want to help you with this.”

“What, exactly,
is ‘this’, Jazz?” Brooke asked a little suspiciously.  “Are you talking about
Travis?”

“Not
just
Travis.  But yeah, he’s part of it.”

“Don’t get your
hopes up, Jazz,” Brooke said, a sad little smile tilting her lips.

“I will if I
want to, and so should you!” Jazz insisted.

A short time
later, Brooke found herself inside a changing room at another boutique; Jazz
hung several outfits and pieces of clothing over the door, ordering Brooke to
try them on and model them.  Reluctantly, Brooke tried on everything from jeans
to nice slacks; after the first few items of clothing, Jazz threw up her hands
and growled in frustration.

“Do you see
this?” she asked the saleswoman.  “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

“If you’re
seeing someone who looks great in everything she’s tried on, but who doesn’t
seem to realize that,” the woman replied.  “Then yes, I’m seeing it.”  She
looked at Jazz.  “You think the mirror in there is broken?”

Jazz giggled as
the saleswoman pulled Brooke out to the middle of an area where three mirrors
reflected different angles.  She positioned Brooke in the middle of the mirrors
and held her firmly.

“Brooke, take a
good look!” Jazz ordered.

“Jazz, I know
what I look like!” Brooke protested.  “And I’m telling you, you keep giving me
clothes that are too small!  I know what size I wear, and these are not it!”

“Really,
Brooke?”

Jazz put her
hands on either side of Brooke’s head and forced her to look at her own
reflection.  Brooke stared at the stranger in the mirror.  She looked at Jazz,
then at the saleswoman, and finally, back at the mirror.

“But…how is that
possible?” Brooke asked breathlessly.

“Honey, I don’t
know who convinced you those were the sizes you should be wearing, but they
were wrong,” the saleswoman said sincerely.

Brooke stared at
the woman in the mirror.  The silky black slacks revealed the curve of her hips
then fell in a smooth line to the floor.  The soft sweater clung to her curves
as well, revealing a petite hour-glass figure with a narrow waist, and curves
in all the right places.

Brooke turned
slowly and asked, “Can I…may I try something else on?”

For the next
twenty minutes, a veritable flurry of clothing flew back and forth between the
saleswoman, Jazz and Brooke.  Brooke tried on jeans, sweaters, skirts, blouses,
slacks and various tops.  Finally, she asked if she could try on some dresses,
too.

Several dresses
in various styles and hues appeared in the dressing room.  Brooke tried on
several of them.  When she tried on a deep blue dress she stood completely
still in front of the mirrors.  The dress followed her curves and showed just a
hint of the valley between her breasts.  The little cap sleeves revealed the
lean muscles of her upper arms.  The hem stopped just above her knees,
revealing the lines of her calves.  Jazz handed Brooke a pair of matching blue
strappy sandals with three inch heels; Brooke slipped her feet into them and
was amazed at the added length to her legs.  She stared at her reflection.

Brooke could
hear her mother’s voice in her head, telling her she was too short and too fat
to be considered pretty or sexy.  Now, looking at her reflection and seeing the
truth for the first time in years, Brooke felt tears burn her eyes again.  A
ragged little sob escaped her and she covered her mouth with trembling fingers.

“Oh, Brooke,
don’t cry!” Jazz said, throwing her arms around the shorter woman.  “Don’t you
like any of them?”

“I like
all
of them!” Brooke cried.  She looked at Jazz, her eyes dark and troubled.  “I
look
good
in them, Jazz!”

“I don’t
understand,” the saleswoman said.  “Did you think you wouldn’t?”

“I…someone told
me I was too short…and fat…and….”

“Brooke, what
idiot told you that?” Jazz demanded angrily.

“My mother,”
Brooke whispered.  “Travis’ friend.  Others….”

“Well, honey,
you’ve been hiding this cute little figure under these baggy clothes!” the
saleswoman admonished gently.  She gasped.  “That’s
why
you wear them, isn’t
it?  You’re hiding!”  She shook her head.  “Oh, honey.”

“Brooke, is that
true?” Jazz asked.  Brooke nodded silently; more tears fell as she did so. 
“Oh, Brooke, I’m so sorry!”

Suddenly, all
three women were hugging one another and crying.  After several minutes, Brooke
wiped her face and began to laugh softly.  Jazz stared at her for a moment,
then began to laugh as well.  As suddenly as they were all sobbing, the three
women were laughing.  Brooke stepped out of the embrace and spun in a slow
circle.

“I’m kind of
cute,” she said hesitantly.  She gave Jazz a doubtful look.  “Aren’t I?”

“You’re more
than kind of cute, Brooke,” Jazz said sincerely.

“Oh, honey, if I
had your figure,” the saleswoman said.  “Well, let’s just say I’d be on my
fourth husband already!”

The women began
laughing again.  When they all caught their breath, Jazz pointed at the blue
dress Brooke wore.

“That’s the
dress you’re wearing Thursday to dinner with Travis and his family,” she said
adamantly.  “The shoes, too.  You’ll do your makeup the way the lady at the
boutique showed you.”  She turned to the saleswoman with a gleeful smile. 
“Ring it all up!  All of it!”

“Jazz, no!”
Brooke protested.

“Brooke, yes!”
Jazz laughed.  “Travis Cooper’s not gonna know what hit him!”

Chapter
27

The next morning
was Sunday, and Travis appeared on Brooke’s doorstep.  He and Riley had loaded
numerous bags and boxes into the Hummer when he’d picked Brooke up the previous
afternoon at the bakery.  Travis was curious to see if Brooke was wearing some
of her new clothes.  Instead, when she opened the door, Brooke wore a simple
denim skirt and a rather baggy sweater Travis had seen before.  He wondered if
she was saving the new clothes for a special occasion.

When church was
over, the two neighbors went to lunch together before heading back home.  At
home, they parted ways, each going to their own house.  Brooke let Boo out in
the yard and went to change clothes.  The day had grown unseasonably warm, and
she pulled on a pair of old faded jeans and a white tee shirt.  When she’d
dressed, she heard Boo at the back door; she opened the door and immediately
slammed it shut again.  Peeking out the window in the door, she saw that her
big, beautiful black and white Harlequin Great Dane was covered in mud; he was
almost completely brown now, his smooth coat lumpy with the sticky stuff. 
Obviously the silly dog had been playing in the little creek at the back of
Brooke’s property.

Sighing, Brooke
went to the utility room and found Boo’s shampoo and brush.  She gathered some
old towels she used just for the dog’s bath and headed outside; she eased out
the door, keeping Boo from pushing his way past her.  In the storage shed
behind her house, Brooke pulled a child’s wading pool from a peg on the wall
and carried it outside.  Boo knew immediately what was coming and began romping
around Brooke excitedly.

“You idiot!”
Brooke laughed.  “You’re the only dog I know who gets excited about a bath!”

Tail wagging
rapidly, Boo stepped into the wading pool.  Using the garden hose, Brooke
rinsed most of the dark mud from the dog’s coat.  She quickly worked up a
lather with the shampoo and scrubbed vigorously, ridding Boo of the rest of the
mud.

Inside his
house, Travis could hear laughter and barking outside.  He looked outside his
kitchen window to see Brooke Valentine giving her huge dog a bath.  Smiling,
Travis walked out his back door; just as he stepped onto the porch, Boo turned
around, knocking Brooke down.  She came up spluttering in the cold water in the
pool, mud and suds all over her.

“Boo!” Brooke
scolded.  “Be still!”

“Looks like it’s
too late for that,” Travis drawled.

“Why is it every
time I look my worst, you show up?” Brooke asked Travis.  She sighed as she
rose; the bottom of the kiddie pool was slippery and she went down again. 
Travis grabbed for Brooke as she fell; the next thing he knew, he was falling
with Brooke.  They landed with a splash in the water.

Carefully,
Travis rose and stepped out of the pool.  He extended a hand to Brooke and
pulled her to her feet and out of the pool.  Shivering, Brooke laughed up at
Travis; at the look on his face, her laughter died.

Travis’ blue
eyes burned brightly as he took in Brooke’s appearance.  The tee shirt clung to
her; through the wet cloth, he could clearly see her lacy bra.  His brain
immediately recalled the drawer full of silky, lacy little undergarments in
Brooke’s bedroom.  Heedless of the mud and suds, Travis wrapped his arms around
Brooke, pulling her up against his chest.

“Brooke, what
are you doing to me?” Travis asked, his breath warm against her skin.

Even if Brooke
had known how to answer, she never got the chance as Travis lowered his mouth
to hers with a low groan.  She wouldn’t have thought it was possible for any
kiss to top the last one they’d shared; Brooke quickly realized she was wrong. 
Then her brain stopped functioning and she didn’t think at all.

Through their
wet clothing, Brooke could feel Travis’ hard chest and his arms wrapped around
her.  His mouth slanted across hers, demanding a response Brooke was happy to
give.  She opened her lips to him, meeting his tongue with her own.  Her
fingers tangled themselves in his short black hair.

Suddenly, Travis
raised his head.  With his hands on her waist, he set Brooke away from him.  He
took a deep breath.

“You should get
out of those wet clothes,” Travis said bluntly.

“Travis…?”
Brooke said a little breathlessly.  “Did I – did I do something wrong?”

“No, Brooke,”
Travis said wearily.  “You just need to get out of those clothes.”  He reached
for the forgotten brush in her hand.  “I’ll finish with Boo and let him in. 
You should, ah, take a warm bath – shower!  A hot shower.”

Brooke remained
where she was for a long moment, looking up at Travis.  The moment was long
enough for Travis so see all the doubts and questions flicker across her face. 
He wanted to say something, to answer the questions and assuage the doubts, but
he didn’t.  He kept his mouth shut and turned away to finish giving Boo his
bath.  After another moment, Brooke turned and hurried inside.

As she rinsed
the muddy water off, Brooke replayed the kiss in her head; more to the point,
she replayed the moments
after
the kiss.  She was an idiot!  Once again,
she’d allowed her foolish attraction to Travis Cooper to override her common
sense.  But apparently Travis was a little lacking in the common sense area,
too; he kept kissing her as if he thought she’d get better at it or something! 
Clearly, her kisses were disappointing.  Why wouldn’t they be?  She could count
on one hand the number of men she’d kissed, and she had to count boys in high
school to use all the fingers!

“Ugh, Brooke!”
she moaned.  “You are the biggest idiot on the planet!”

When she was dry
and dressed in a pair of sweats, she picked up her phone.  She hesitated for
just a moment.  Her finger hovered indecisively over the buttons.  Finally, she
dialed a number, then waited for a voice on the other end.

“Riley?” Brooke
queried.  “I’m really sorry to bother you at home, but…”  Her voice broke.  “Is
Jazz home?  No?  Oh…no…no message.”  She cleared her throat.  “Thanks – thanks
anyway, Riley.”

Brooke hung up. 
About two minutes later, her phone rang.  She answered it.

“H-hello?”

“Brooke!” Jazz’s
voice came through the phone.  “What’s going on?  Riley said you sounded
upset.”

“Jazz, I’m so
sorry to bother you on Sunday!” Brooke said.

“It’s okay,
honey,” Jazz assured her.  She laughed.  “I’m just helping my abuela with a few
things before Thursday.  But we’re taking a break, so tell me what’s wrong?”