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Authors: Lisa Crane

BOOK: Not His Type
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“Travis kissed
me!” Brooke blurted out.

 

“And that’s a
bad thing, Brooke?” Jazz asked.  Brooke could hear laughter in the other
woman’s voice.  “Isn’t that what we wanted?”

 

“Jazz, it was
bad!”

 

“Bad?  No way! 
Brooke, you can’t tell me Travis Cooper is a bad kisser!”

 

“No, Jazz!”
Brooke wailed, tears threatening to choke her.  “
I’m
bad!  I’ve kissed
four, maybe five men my whole
life
, Jazz!”  A little whimper escaped her
and when she spoke again, her voice was a whisper.  “Jazz, it was such a bad
kiss he – he pushed me away and told me I should go inside!  Oh, I feel so
stupid!”

 

“Brooke, calm
down,” Jazz said evenly.  “Where are you?  Are you at home?  I’ll be there as
soon as I can, okay?  Just sit tight.”

 

“Okay….”

 

Brooke hung up. 
She heard her front door open, followed by the sound of Boo’s claws on the
hardwood floor.  Hearing the front door close, she rose and walked out of her
bedroom to the living room.  The room was empty.  Travis had simply opened the
door, let the dog inside and left.

 

Brooke sat down
in an over-stuffed chair and pulled her knees up.  That was exactly how she
remained until Jazz Valenzuela Parker knocked and walked in the front door. 
Jazz sat on the sofa and leaned forward.

 

“You okay,
Brooke?” she asked gently.

 

“Yeah, I’m just
peachy, Jazz,” Brooke answered.  Then she sighed.  “Sorry.  I didn’t mean to
snap at you.”

 

“Just tell me
why you think the kiss was so terrible, Brooke.”  Brooke shrugged a little, but
remained silent.  “But Brooke, honey, that wasn’t the first kiss between you
two, was it?”

 

“No.”

 

“How many times
has he kissed you?”

 

“Maybe…maybe
three or four.”

 

“Okay, think
about this, Brooke,” Jazz said, her tone logical and reasonable.  “If you’re
such a bad kisser, why does he keep kissing you?”

 

“I have no idea,
Jazz!”  Brooke gave a humorless laugh.  “Boo probably knows more about men than
I do!”

 

“Boo?” Jazz
echoed blankly.  At the sound of his name, the dog came trotting in from the
kitchen.  “Oh, my goodness!  I didn’t know you had a horse!”

 

Brooke laughed a
little, then sobered again.  She stroked Boo’s head between his ears and the
dog plopped down to sit beside her chair.

 

“I’m so stupid,
Jazz,” she sighed.  “I’m sorry I bothered you with this.  I guess I just needed
a shoulder to cry on – one besides Travis’, that is!”

 

“It’s no
bother,” Jazz said sincerely.  “I’m glad you called me.  And now that you’ve
cried a little bit, I want you to listen to me.  I have a plan.”

 

“What kind of
plan?” Brooke asked doubtfully.  “A plan for what?”

 

“A plan to shake
Travis Cooper up a little.”

 

“Oh, I don’t
think I want to do that.”  Brooke shook her head.  “Jazz, I don’t want to lose
his friendship.”

 

“Do you want
more
than his friendship, Brooke?”

 

“Well…that’s not
really an option.”

 

“Says who?” Jazz
demanded.  “This is what’s going to happen, Brooke.  You’re going to act like
that kiss never happened.  And if he kisses you again, unless he proclaims his
undying love for you, you’re going to pretend
that
kiss never happened! 
Do you understand?”  Brooke nodded uncertainly.  “You’re going to go on like
nothing happened, letting Travis bring you to work and anywhere else you need
to go until you get your car back.”

 

“It’s supposed
to be ready tomorrow,” Brooke interjected.

 

“Perfect!” Jazz
crowed.  “Then you can ignore him until Thursday, when he takes you to
Thanksgiving dinner at his parents’ house!”

 

“What if he
doesn’t want me to go anymore?”

 

“Brooke, honey,
enough with the pity party, all right?”  Jazz continued.  “Unless he’s a
complete jerk, Travis is not going to rescind the invitation.  So you
are
going with him on Thursday, got it?  And you’re going to wear that dress we
picked out, and those pretty little shoes with the ankle straps.  You’re going
to do your hair and makeup the way Marlena and that saleslady showed you.  And
you’re going to be your usual sweet, charming, adorable self.”

 

“Great, I sound
like a puppy,” Brooke muttered.

 

“Stop it!” Jazz
scolded, giggling as she did.  “Then on Friday evening, you’re going to have a
hot date!”

 

“With Travis?”

 

“No!  With Rafa.”

 

“Who’s Rafa? 
And why would I have a date with him?”

 

“Rafa is my
cousin,” Jazz explained.  “My extremely
handsome
cousin.  And you’ll
have a date with him because I’m his favorite cousin.”  She grinned.  “He’ll
show up here in his shiny black Corvette and a bouquet of flowers.  You’ll wear
that other dress – the hot pink one.  You’ll go to dinner and have a lovely
evening, and you’ll get home
very
late!”

 

“I will?” Brooke
squeaked.

 

“Don’t worry,
silly!”  Jazz waved dismissively.  “He’s engaged to be married, and madly in
love with his fiancée.  This is all for show, all for Travis’ benefit.”

 

“I don’t think I
understand, Jazz.”  Brooke sighed.  “You see?  I really am hopeless when it
comes to men and romance.”

 

“Apparently,
you’re no more hopeless than the idiot next door, mi amiga poco,” Jazz retorted
sarcastically.  “If a couple of dates with a hot guy or two…or three…doesn’t
make Travis Cooper see what’s right in front of him, nothing will.”

 

“Do you really
think this will work, Jazz?” the younger woman asked dubiously.  “It sounds
awfully complicated.  And a little deceitful.”

 

“It will work. 
Trust me.  And you’re only being deceitful if you actually tell Travis you’re
romantically interested in one of these guys.”

 

“And where are
you going to find all these hot guys?”

 

“Are you
kidding?” Jazz laughed.  “I have about a million cousins!  And they all have
friends!”

Chapter
28

 

The next three
days were excruciating for Brooke.  Each time she saw Travis, she pretended
he’d never kissed her.  Outwardly, she smiled and acted casual and friendly. 
On the inside, however, she was anxious and nervous, and still a little hurt.

 

For his part,
Travis, too, acted as if the kiss had never happened.  He, too, was friendly
and casual with Brooke.  They worked in his office on Tuesday evening, working
on paying invoices; this time, however, Travis made sure he stayed a good
distance from Brooke.  When he wasn’t actively showing her something on the
computer or in the paperwork, he stayed on the opposite side of the desk.

 

Brooke had no
way of knowing her very presence was a sort of slow torture to Travis.  From
the time she walked into his house, his senses had been filled with her; her
deep violet eyes, her full pink lips, the occasional touch of her hand, her soft
voice and that smell that drove him to distraction!  She smelled, as always, of
the fresh, clean scent of some light soap, and the warm fragrance of cupcakes,
sweet, but not cloying.  Even after she left his office and his house, her
fragrance hung in the air, keeping Brooke fixed firmly in his brain.

 

Travis had felt
at loose ends all day.  He had plenty of work to keep him busy, but all day
he’d felt as if he’d lost something important and couldn’t figure out what.  He
was stunned to realize, late in the afternoon, that he missed taking Brooke to
work and picking her up!  When she showed up on his front porch to help him
with his accounting, he’d almost hugged her out of sheer happiness.

 

Now, though,
Travis frowned, wondering about the phone call she’d gotten right after she
arrived.  She’d looked at the screen, blushed and told him she needed to take
the call.  Travis nodded at her, then bent his head over some bills in a file
folder; he’d listened to every word on Brooke’s end of the call.

 

“Oh, hello,
Rafa,” Brooke had said, a little shyly.  “Yes, Friday evening is still good for
me.  Seven?  Yes, I’ll be ready then.  Are you sure you want to drive all the
way out here to pick me up?  Okay, I’ll see you then.  Yes, I’m, um, looking
forward to it, too.”

 

Travis wondered
who Rafa was, and where Brooke had met him.  Was he a friend?  Based on
Brooke’s demeanor, she’d just met the guy and was going out with him this
Friday.  Travis assured himself his disquiet was only based on his concern for
Brooke’s welfare.  She was such a sweet, innocent young woman, and it would be
far too easy for some slick guy to take advantage of her.

 

Like you
almost did
, a little voice whispered in his head.  The kiss he and Brooke
shared Sunday afternoon had played over and over in Travis’ head.  He tried
repeatedly to compare it to the practiced, seductive kisses Lorna had pressed
on him the previous Friday night.  Each time he’d tried to tell himself those
were the kisses of a real woman, the memories would shift and instead of Lorna,
he’d be remembering the feel of Brooke Valentine in his arms, the feel of
Brooke’s lips beneath his own.  It was Brooke’s breathless sigh of submission
and passion that sent a little thrill of heat through his body.

 

Travis rose
restlessly and wandered aimlessly through his house.  He’d never felt this
unsettled – over anything! – and he didn’t like it at all.  As Nick had pointed
out, Travis liked to be in control of his life, and he liked to know what to
expect.  In his experiences in the Middle East, surprise could mean danger and
even death.  Now, with Brooke, Travis felt like the proverbial fish out of
water.

 

Frowning, Travis
strode back to his office.  He snatched his phone up and dialed a number.  He
needed a distraction, that was all.  Brooke Valentine had been a…a project,
nothing more.  She’d needed some help and Travis had been happy to provide that
help.  Now they were friends and that was just fine with Travis.  He was happy
that Brooke’s job at the bakery was allowing her time to have a social life;
maybe this Rafa character would be a great guy.  If he wasn’t, Travis would be
there to watch out for Brooke’s best interests.  In the meantime, Travis needed
a distraction, and he thought he knew just the woman who could distract him;
fifteen minutes later, Travis had made a date for Friday evening with another
ex-girlfriend, a tall, leggy blonde he’d dated before Lorna.

 

“I’ll pick you
up at, um, eight,” Travis said.  “Sorry it’s a little late, but I have some
things to take care of first.”

 

Yeah, he
thought.  He had to “take care of” making sure Brooke’s date was a decent guy. 
He’d wait until Rafa picked Brooke up before leaving for his own date.

Chapter
29

 

Thursday
morning, Brooke woke up and immediately felt a wave of nervousness like nothing
she’d ever experienced.  She made herself a cup of tea, hoping it would calm
her nerves; it was a good idea, but a dismal failure.  She went to her room and
started the shower.  Travis would be knocking on her front door in about an
hour, and Brooke wanted plenty of time in case she ran into trouble with her
hair and makeup.

 

Brooke took her
time, applying the makeup Jazz had bought her; she found it amusing that
something so expensive was supposed to look like it wasn’t really there.  When
she finished, however, she had to admit, her skin looked smooth and dewy and
her eyes looked large, luminous and mysterious.  Next, she blew her hair dry,
brushing it out until it shone like satin, the subtle highlights and layers looking
artfully casual and natural.

 

The clock showed
Brooke had five minutes before Travis crossed their yards to get her.  She took
the deep blue dress from her closet, enjoying the feel of the soft knit velvet
beneath her fingers.  She laid the dress across her bed and pulled off her old
robe.  She pulled on stockings, grimacing at the bright pink scar that ran the
length of her thigh; at least the staples had been removed.  She’d just pulled
her dress on, smoothing it down over her hips when she heard a knock at the
front door.  With one last fluff of her hair, she stepped into the pretty blue
shoes, buckled them and left her bedroom.

 

Jazz had hinted
to Travis that Brooke had a special outfit for today.  He was expecting a
pretty sweater or maybe a nice pair of slacks.  When she opened her front door,
his eyes nearly bugged from his head.  He tried to swallow, but found he
couldn’t.  He tried to speak, but his tongue seemed to be glued to the roof of
his mouth.  Brooke – his little Bunny-girl, his Cupcake – looked amazing; she
looked sweet and sexy and completely, mouth-wateringly gorgeous!  He wanted to
tell her she looked beautiful.  He wanted to kiss her.  He wanted to eat her
up.  Finally, Travis managed to clear his throat; words still failed him.

 

“Um, are you
ready?” he asked.

 

“Y-yes,” Brooke
said a little hesitantly.  “Let me just get something from the kitchen.  I made
a pie.”

 

When Brooke
returned, she carried a box like the ones in which pies were sold at
Babycakes.  Travis took the box from her hands and walked out of her house
without another word.  Brooke wanted to close the door behind him and go back
to bed.  Jazz was so wrong, and Brooke felt even more idiotic than she had
following that last kiss!  Taking a deep breath, she pulled on a pretty sweater
Jazz had thrown on top of the pile of clothing when they were shopping, and
followed Travis outside to his waiting Hummer.

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