Not His Type (23 page)

Blushing, Brooke
resumed her seat in the chair behind Travis.  He leaned back against her legs
again.  As Brooke smoothed her skirt down, she heard a gasp; turning, she saw
Allison Cooper staring at the scar visible below the hem of Brooke’s skirt. 
Brooke tugged at her dress self-consciously.

“Ooh,” Lorna
said.  “In this day and age, you’d think doctors could do better work, wouldn’t
you?  I can’t imagine having such an
ugly
scar!”

“I think the
doctors were more concerned with saving her life,” Travis drawled.  “Cosmetics
were pretty low on the priority list.”  He smiled at Brooke.  “Besides, now we
have matching scars.”

“We know how you
got yours, Travis,” Tracey said.  She looked at Brooke.  “Do you mind telling
us how you got yours, Brooke?”

“Ha!” Travis
snorted.  “I’ll tell you, since it was indirectly my fault.  And if Brooke
tells it, she’ll downplay how serious it was.”

Brooke rose,
saying, “I’ll just go check on the sweet potatoes.”  She glanced at Allison. 
“Would you like me to check on everything while I’m in the kitchen?”

“Oh, would you
mind?” Travis’ mother asked, beaming.  “I want to hear this, and you’re
obviously much better in the kitchen than I am, anyway!”

“Not at all,”
Brooke answered.  “I’m happy to help.”

Brooke went to
the kitchen and began checking on dinner.  She could hear the deep sound of
Travis’ voice, but not his words.  That was fine with her, as she knew exactly
how she’d gotten that scar.

Chapter
31

Brooke had been
in the kitchen for several minutes before she realized she wasn’t alone.  She
glanced over her shoulder to find Lorna Morgan watching her speculatively. 
Brooke turned fully to face the other woman; she smiled politely.

“Can I help you,
Lorna?” Brooke asked.  “Or did you come to help?”

“Don’t think I
don’t know what you’re doing, little miss cupcake!” Lorna hissed.  “In here
playing little Susie Homemaker!  Do you think Travis is so stupid he’d be
fooled by this little ploy to ingratiate yourself?”

“I’m – sorry?”

Brooke was
shocked.  While the looks the redhead had been casting her way all day had made
her feelings clear, Brooke hadn’t expected to be directly confronted, much less
verbally attacked!

“Please!  You
can cut the act!  You’re smart, I’ll give you that.  Playing up to Travis’
mother is a great way to score points.  But at the end of the day, dear, I look
like this.”  Lorna gestured at herself, clad in a sleek black sweater dress,
every lock of her fiery hair in place, her legs made to look even longer by the
stilettos she wore.  Then she tossed a disdainful look at Brooke.  “And you
look like…well…you.”

“Lorna, I think my
Mom’s looking for you,” a young man drawled coolly from the kitchen doorway.

Lorna glared at
the teenager and left the kitchen in a huff.  Brooke smiled at the young man.

“So who should I
thank for rescuing me?” she asked.  “I don’t think we’ve met yet.”

“I’m Taylor,” he answered, extending a hand.  “The evil red-haired one is my mother’s best
friend.  Apparently, the two of them still think there’s a chance Uncle Travis
will lose his mind and marry Lorna.”  He sat on a stool at the island and bit
into a carrot stick; he grimaced at the vegetable and laid it back down on the
island.  “I think you being here has seriously rattled some cages.”

“I didn’t mean
to cause anyone to be upset,” Brooke said seriously.

“Please,” Taylor drawled, chuckling.  “Nobody but Mom and Lorna actually think there’s a chance for
that to happen!  And nobody but them
want
it to happen!”

“You do know
your Uncle Travis and I are just friends, right?” Brooke said wryly.  She put a
spoon in his hand.  “Make yourself useful and come stir.”

Taylor moved to stand beside Brooke, stirring the gravy as she instructed.  He glanced
sideways at her.

“So you two are
just friends?” he asked.

“Yep.  Good
friends, but just friends.”

Taylor stopped stirring and stared at Brooke.  She returned his look for a moment, then
continued working.

“Are you
serious?” Taylor asked incredulously.  “Do you think I’m just some stupid
teenager?  I’m nineteen; that doesn’t mean I’m an idiot.”

“What?” Brooke
asked.  “Why would you think I believe you’re stupid?”

“Because only a
moron would buy that ‘we’re just friends’ baloney!”

“We
are
just friends, Taylor,” she insisted.  “Your uncle is way outta my league,
kiddo.”

“Well,
kiddo
,”
Taylor replied mockingly.  “My uncle was practically sitting in your lap out
there!  My uncle was
rubbing your leg
, for Pete’s sake!”

“We.  Are. 
Friends.  End of story, Taylor.”  Brooke bumped him aside with a hip and
stirred the gravy.  “Now why don’t you go tell your grandmother that everything
seems to be ready?”

Travis stood
outside the kitchen, listening to every word that passed between his oldest
nephew and Brooke Valentine.  He closed his eyes briefly.  Was the inexplicable
desire he felt for his little neighbor so obvious?  And had he really been
rubbing her leg?  He certainly hadn’t
meant
to do that!

“Hey, Uncle
Travis!”

Travis opened
his eyes to see Taylor looking at him, a knowing smirk on his handsome young
face.  His smirk broadened to a grin.

“If you’re just
friends,” Taylor said, “you won’t mind if
I
ask her out, right?”

Travis merely
growled at his nephew, causing the young man to laugh loudly as he walked
away.  Travis shook his head, annoyed with Taylor and with himself.  He took a
deep breath, pasted a smile on his face and walked into the kitchen…only to
freeze in his tracks.

Brook was bent
over the oven, looking at the huge turkey.  Her blue dress was stretched across
her rear-end, hugging her curves; the hem had ridden up a few inches, revealing
more of Brooke’s thighs.  As she straightened, she shook her hair back from her
face; it was such a simple gesture, and yet, the unintentional sensuality took
Travis’ breath away as he watched her.  As if sensing him behind her, Brooke
suddenly turned and smiled at him.

“Oh, Travis, I
need you!” Brooke said.

“I – uh…excuse
me?” he stammered.

“That turkey is
huge
!”
she said.  “I can’t get it out of the oven!”

“Oh!” Travis
said, finally drawing a normal breath again.  “Yeah, sure, I can do that.”  He
smiled at her.  “Although I don’t think Mom expected you to take over the whole
dinner, you know.  You’re a guest, Brooke.”

“Oh, I didn’t
mean – I just wanted to help!” Brooke said quickly.

“No worries,”
Travis said.  “I didn’t mean it that way, Brooke.”  He grinned wryly.  “In case
you hadn’t noticed, cooking isn’t really Mom’s strong suit.  She might not have
meant for you to take over, but I’m sure she’s glad you did!”

“Are you sure?”
she asked.  “I don’t want to step on any toes.”  She paused and arched one brow
at him.  “Especially if those toes are wearing a pair of black suede stiletto
heels.”

“What?  Oh. 
Lorna.”  Travis shook his head.

“Did I hear my
name?”

Travis and
Brooke both turned to see Lorna leaning against the doorframe, one hip cocked
provocatively to the side.  Brooke had to press her lips together to keep from
giggling.  She wouldn’t have been surprised if the other woman had whipped out
a long-stemmed rose to clench between her teeth.

“Hey, Lorna, did
you come to help with dinner?” Travis asked casually.

“Hardly!” Lorna
said, tossing a mocking look at Brooke; her gaze shifted back to Travis.  “Do I
look
like the kind of woman who’d spend a lot of time sweating over a
turkey?”

Without a word,
Travis took the two oven mitts from Brooke.  He bent and pulled the roasting
pan from the oven and set it on the island where Brooke had placed a thick
towel.  He winked at Brooke.

“Anything else I
can help with, Cupcake?”

“Uh, let’s see
what your mom says,” Brooke said.  “This is her dinner, after all.  I just
figured she’d take the turkey out if she were in here.”

“Or she’d let it
keep cooking till it was dry as the Sahara,” Allison said sarcastically from
the door.  “Thank you for saving the day, Brooke.”  She rolled her eyes at
Travis.  “Maybe we’ll have a decent meal this year.”

Many hours, far
too much food and several more games later, Travis and Brooke took their leave
of the Cooper family.  As the stood at the door saying their goodbyes, Allison
hugged Brooke.

“I’m so glad
Travis brought you!” she said sincerely.  “And not
just
because you seem
to be an amazing cook!  Please come back anytime, dear.”

“Thank you for
having me,” Brooke said politely, if a little shyly.  “I enjoyed it very much.”

“Yeah, come back
next time without Uncle Travis!” Taylor teased, winking shamelessly at Brooke,
who blushed and laughed.

“If your mother
weren’t standing right beside you,” Travis muttered in a threatening tone.  He
left the sentence unfinished and Taylor grinned.

Suddenly a
slender arm inserted itself between Travis and Brooke.  The arm’s owner
followed, edging Brooke aside.  Lorna smiled seductively up at Travis, heedless
of the other people surrounding them in the foyer.

“Travis, don’t
be a stranger,” she said.  “We’ve only just reconnected.  It would be a shame
to lose each other again.”  She turned to look at Brooke.  “And you, too,
little cupcake girl.  We didn’t really get a chance to finish our little chat,
did we?”  She leaned closer and hissed, “This isn’t over!”

Chapter
32

“Thank you for
coming with me, Brooke,” Travis said as they drove home.

“I had a nice
time,” Brooke replied.  She looked over at him.  “Well, I had a nice time
after
the initial awkwardness.  Your mother didn’t know I was coming?”

“Mom wasn’t the
problem,” Travis said wryly.  “Nor were you.”  He shook his head.  “The problem
was Leah and Lorna.  By the way, what did she say to you as we were leaving?”

“Oh, just
mentioned we didn’t finish our little chat,” Brooke said evasively.

“No, she
whispered something to you after that.  And what little chat, for that matter?”

“Well….”

“Come on,
Brooke, spill it,” he said.

“Nothing much,
really,” she answered.  “She just wanted to make sure I understood that she’s
your type and I’m not.”  Brooke snorted.  “As if I thought otherwise!”

“What!”  Travis’
hands clenched on the steering wheel.  “Are you serious?”

“Well, she did
say I’m very clever,” Brooke laughed.  “Said it was very smart of me to ingratiate
myself with your mother by playing little Susie Homemaker in the kitchen.  Then
your girlfriend was gracious enough to point out to me that she will always
look like she does, and I will always be me.  I think she was counting on my
cleverness to make sure I understood that me being me meant, specifically, that
she is much prettier than I am.”

“I’m sorry,
Brooke,” Travis said solemnly.  “Leah shouldn’t have invited Lorna in the first
place.”

“Don’t worry
about it,” Brooke said.  “I’ll admit it shocked me at first.  But when Taylor rescued me, I found it a little funny and a little pathetic.”

“Taylor rescued you?”

“He told Lorna
his mother was looking for her.”

Brooke chuckled
remembering the other things the young man had said to her.  Travis was remembering
those same words; the memory called to mind the feel of Brooke’s leg beneath
his fingertips.  He swallowed hard and tugged at the collar of his black dress
shirt.

“So, uh…how was
it pathetic?”

“That someone as
pretty as Lorna feels the need to belittle a woman like me to make herself feel
better.  She obviously cares about you.”

“Lorna cares
about Lorna,” Travis said bluntly.  “And what do you mean, a woman like you?”

“Well, as Lorna
put it, she looks like that,” Brooke answered simply.  “All long legs and
slender curves.  She’s stunning.  I’m…just me.  The girl next door.  The
friend
next door.”

Travis turned
the Hummer into his own driveway and went around to open the passenger door. 
He offered a hand and helped Brooke down; they walked together to her front
door.  Before she went inside, Travis stopped her with a hand on her arm. 
Brooke turned to face him.  Travis brushed her dark, silky hair back over her
shoulder; his fingers moved forward again to graze her cheek lightly.  Brooke
stood motionless, her violet eyes glued to Travis’ blue ones.

“If Lorna was
stunning today,” Travis said in a deep voice.  “You, my little Bunny-girl, were
breathtaking.”

Travis lowered
his mouth to Brooke’s.  He pressed one hard kiss to her lips, then lifted his
head.  He took her porch steps in one long stride.  He called goodnight over
his shoulder; Brooke watched him go, a bemused look on her face.