Play Fling (A Stupid Cupid Book) (17 page)

Plus, Gordon swore they wouldn’t be the only
stragglers. Tradition.

Apparently exes were tradition, too.

Get it together!
He shouldn’t be so
giddy to see her. Not right there for her to see anyways. He was no
good at playing it cool, though. Screw it. Why bother trying when
all he wanted was to breathe her in. “I’ve been meaning to call
you. I had some things come up.”

Brooke nodded, her lips parted but she didn’t
speak.

Had she already noticed him? Probably. And
she hadn’t sought him out. Hot disappointment flushed his body. His
inner machismo yelled,
“Leave now, jackoff! She’s avoiding
you!”
His feet wouldn’t budge. Things. Like fear of what she
did to him, of what might happen next. “Did you get my note?”

Her gaze sharpened. She crossed her arms.
“Yes. I got it.”

“But it wasn’t enough. Right. Well, I guess
you have two reasons to be pretty angry with me right now.” He
raked a hand through his hair. “Would it help if I swore to you I’m
really bad with words?”

Her gaze crashed up to his. “You’re bad with
words?”

He nodded, rubbing his neck. “Really
bad.”

“Let me get this straight. You’re a history
professor’s assistant, assigned to grade other’s writing, but you
happen to be a terrible writer yourself?”

Alarms went off inside his head. “When it
comes to things like this, yeah. Terrible.” Clearly, that wasn’t
excuse enough. What else could he have written? A lot. Except, the
more he wrote, the less she was likely to be able to actually read.
“I didn’t exactly have a computer handy. And I’m a history student.
Not an editor. Or a writer.” Especially of love notes.

Forgive me
had seemed to encompass
everything he’d needed to say at the time. It had sounded
gentlemanly. A little poetic, even. This was not how he’d
envisioned their first talk. Correction. Not love. Don’t go and say
love of all things. Within a blink, she’ll go from mad to running
scared.

“Well, I suppose you have one thing down.”
Her arms wound tighter around her chest. “Concision.”

He itched to tug her arms apart and bring
them around him. He winced. “Short and sweet?”

“Short, yes. Sweet? Not a chance.”

Brooke turned to leave. The door smacked her
square in the face. With a screech, she fell backwards and into his
arms.

Her friend from the Book Exchange and the
mall—Millie, was it?—barreled in. “Oh no! Brooke?”

Millie scooped Brooke out of Elliott’s hold
and lowered her to the floor. She pinned him with an icy enough
look, he assumed she shared Brooke’s low opinion of him. Girls
talk. Great.

“Do something,” Millie ordered.

He let go and strode to the kitchen. Mrs.
Munkle was pulling the turkey out of the lower oven. She met him
with wide eyes as he explained. Turkey settled, Nancy stuffed a
towel full of ice and scurried after him.

Brooke lay against Millie, covering her nose
and moaning. Crimson red blood seeped between her fingers, oozing
down. Dripping everywhere. Elliott wobbled. The room tipped. A gag
curled inside his mouth.
Not now!
He struggled to squat down
and hand the towel over.
Not in front of Brooke.
His dad’s
favorite joke echoed in his head. “
He’ll never be a doctor. Not
a nurse either. (hearty chuckle) Better hope you can talk a candy
striper into marrying you, son. You’ll need
…,” the blurring
room swallowed him up.

~

Millie could scream. “He did not just pass
out, did he?” If this day got any worse—how, she didn’t know—she
would shred the rose wallpaper with her stubby nails.

“Oh dear, I think he did.” Nancy wrung her
hands and stared at AJ who barely hid gut busting laughter.

Brooke was staring switchblades at her. A
timer in the kitchen bleated over and over again. And they all
lived happily ever after.

“Hi there,” Nancy said, a little giggly
herself.

Crap.

“AJ, meet Nancy. Nancy, this is AJ.” She
almost forgot. “My boyfriend. Brooke said one more stray was
okay.”

“Oh, yes, yes, yes. Of course. Welcome, AJ.”
The woman’s poor cheeks splotched like the fourth of July.
“Wonderful to meet you. Now, could you be a dear and help me with
this one?”

With a nod, AJ came around Millie and dragged
Elliott to the living room. One Nancy shriek and a few crowd
bellows later, AJ returned to do the same for Brooke. Except, he
carried her.

Millie wished AJ could drag her away, too.
What a mess. What was Brooke doing talking to Elliott? After hours
of recognizance, Millie’d been certain Brooke hadn’t seen the guy
in days, and only had the one brief encounter. Had Brooke known
he’d be here? No. Couldn’t be. She’d blanched ghost white when
she’d seen Elliott.

She had to stay calm. She needed to
think.

If only Brooke had revealed what
had
happened between them. Something definitely happened. But, Brooke
wasn’t friggin’ talking. Millie had to maintain the proximity
factor with Jason, not Elliott. And who in the hell was Jason
kissing?

Surely, Elliott hadn’t made the impact Millie
feared. Brooke had gotten upset about the kiss after all. Excellent
progress. If Millie could have just kept Elliott and Brooke apart
five more stupid minutes.

Too late now.

She had to keep cool. Attend to matters at
hand. “Mrs. Munkle, can you—.”

“Nancy,” Mrs. Munkle interrupted. “Call me
Nancy, dear.”

Jesus. “Nancy, can you help me get Brooke
cleaned up? I’m sure one of these fine male specimens can tend to
the turkey, maybe turn that timer off?”

“Oh yes, of course. Jason, could you be a
dear?” Nancy said, hands aflutter.

Millie swore, one more “dear” out of the
woman, she might end the holiday in the clink instead of at home
mulling over her notes.

She helped Brooke walk, thinking fast. What
went wrong and how? Okay. They’d not only seen each other, they’d
talked. If they kept seeing each other, a one night stand risked
becoming much more. Worse, Brooke had been injured. Elliott
attempted to play hero and now he’d gone and passed the F out and
Brooke might get a dose of Florence Nightingale syndrome. Great. If
Elliott turning up sent Brooke back into his arms, well, she’d have
to do something drastic.

In the bathroom, Millie sat Brooke onto the
toilet lid. Nancy soon left to get Brooke a new blouse as Millie
dabbed at the blood with a wet cloth.

“How bad is it?” Brooke asked.

“You’re either going to have two black eyes.”
Millie’s mind pounded with guilt over what happened. This was her
fault. She’d been distracted and didn’t make sure Brooke followed
her out. “Or nothing. I’m afraid it may be broken.”

“Fabulous.” Brooke teared up. “That’s all I
need right now. To look like someone kicked my ass.” She laughed.
It didn’t sound sincere. “Actually, this fits perfectly. I feel
beat up, why not look it, too?”

That was one hot statement to pounce on.

“Whoa. Hey, I know Jason bringing someone
home to meet mom is hard.” Man, oh man, did she ever. Maybe AJ
could work some mojo on Jason and Brooke despite this door to the
face fiasco. “It’s gotta be hard. You two had to be very much in
love to last so long.”

As far as Millie could calculate, whoever had
Jason sprung up must be new on the scene. His file showed zero
signs of an affair. If she played this new love twist right, maybe
it would help, not hurt. Brooke had definitely come back out
red-eyed.

Brooke moaned.

“Try not to move.”

“Sorry. I’m new at having my face bashed in.”
A tear slid down Brooke’s cheek.

“No, I’m sorry,” Millie said. “This is all my
fault. I should have been watching where I was going.”

“No, I shouldn’t have been standing there
like a big mumbling dummy.”

Nancy came back in. “Brooke, dear. I don’t
have much but this should fit, and if I’m right, the color will
really bring out the green in your eyes.” Nancy billowed a frilled,
multi-colored shirt open, beaming.

Millie turned to hide her gag. How in the
world could that God-awful shirt bring out anyone’s eyes? The
pattern looked like sofa roadkill. Not even Elliott could find
Brooke hot in... hmmm. Nice. The shirt might actually help. Three
points to Nancy. Good form.

Millie smiled, ignoring Brooke’s pleading
look in those blackening eyes.

“I can’t remember this much excitement on
Thanksgiving since the year my water broke with Walter.” Nancy’s
joy chimed in her voice. She hummed and fussed around the small
pine scented space. “Oh, what a glorious day that was. My own
little holiday miracle.”

Was this woman for real? Millie didn’t know
moms like her really existed outside of the Brady Bunch. Nancy made
Carol Brady look like the Wicked Witch.

“But don’t you worry, Brooke,” Nancy said.
“We’ll get you fixed up then we’ll eat and have dessert. And we’ll
all have a good laugh. You’ll see. Jason will take good, good care
of you.” Her hand went to her mouth but the gasp snuck by. “Oh
dear, listen to me ramble. You know we’ll take care of you, Jason
or not, don’t you. I didn’t mean anything by that, Brooke.”

“I know you didn’t, Nancy.” Brooke clasped
the older woman’s hand.

Nancy looked about to cry, too.

Brooke’s make-up was officially shot. Good.
Jason would see her, want to rescue her. Nancy was clearly an ally.
Millie figured they’d go out, Elliott would feel stupid for
fainting, asinine for chasing a woman twice his age who clearly
belonged elsewhere. Nowhere near Brooke. He didn’t belong in this
world. He belonged at a keg party. “It’s definitely a story,”
Millie injected.

She wondered what he’d said to Brooke before
Millie opened that door. Forget it. Better to assume the worst. A
date. A second encounter. For the hundredth time she wished she had
already learned AJ’s talent. All this would be far easier if she
could witness love chemicals in the air like he did.

“I’m not going to say I haven’t hoped,” Nancy
continued. Millie’s neck tightened but her ears perked up. “I have,
Brooke. You and Jason were meant for each other. I’ve always said
so.”

“Oh, Nancy.” Brooke hugged the older
woman.

Nancy’s dam broke. She began to cry in
earnest. Millie stepped back. This was getting far too emotional
for comfort, regardless of how much it might help.

“When I asked Jason to invite you, well, I
admit it. I did have ulterior motives. I hoped if you two got a
chance to get some time apart…to think… to miss each other. Then if
you came back grown and matured. You’d both see.”

Millie stifled a gasp.

Brooke’s tears looked to have dried up. “Oh,
Nancy. I’m so sorry. I do miss you all. More than you can know. And
I have missed Jason. How could I not? He was my best friend for
fifteen years.” No, wait, tears on. “I didn’t just lose my husband.
I lost my best friend.”

“Well.” Nancy wiped her face. Her tone
changed. “Actually, you didn’t lose him, dear. Let’s not forget. He
lost you. We all did. You left him, remember?”

Brooke’s intake of air hissed in the sudden
shocked silence. Millie braced herself, unable to look away.

Brooke got to her feet. “Actually, I do
remember, Nancy. I remember being stuck in a farce of a marriage.”
She stabbed the air with her finger. “If only he’d been cheating on
me. That would have made sense.” She yanked off her bloodied blouse
and took Nancy’s, shoving her head through, impressively avoiding
her swollen face. “Cheating, somehow, would have been easier.
Something to point to and say, see? I’m not crazy. We don’t work.
But he didn’t cheat on me. You raised him better than that.”

Nancy’s hands clasped over her chest. “I will
not fight with you, Brooke. I know, I shouldn’t have said a word.”
She looked stricken. “I promised myself I wouldn’t and so, you’ll
just have to ignore my big butinski nose. When you have kids of
your own one day, you’ll understand.”

“When I what?” Brooke’s hands flew to her
hips. Nancy’s mouth made like a fish but no words came out. Before
Brooke asked her question again, Nancy promptly left the room. The
door swung open where she’d stood, the noise of football filtered
through to them.

Millie realized her hands were holding up
thin air and the bloody towel. She put them behind her. “What the
hell was that all about?”

“That, Millie, was classic Nancy Munkle,
mistress of passive aggression.” Brooke faced the mirror and
blanched at her reflection. Gingerly, she touched her nose. “Kids!
I can’t believe she has the gall to bring up kids.”

“Touchy subject?”

“I’m thirty-seven, Millie. Tick-tock,
tick-tock. Nancy used to stalk Jason over when we were going to
start a family. It got so bad, he yelled at her over dinner
once.”

Millie shrugged. Not so bad. Lots of families
yelled. This uber repressed one could, too.

“In public.”

Oh. “I see.” Kind of. “You two didn’t want
kids?”

“I don’t know, Millie.” Brooke sat on the
sink’s edge. “Looking back now, I think I did want kids. I mean do,
I still want kids. If that’s even possible. Maybe I just didn’t
want kids with him.”

Yikes. Millie had to hit reverse fast. This
dark alley was not where she wanted to go. She plucked Brooke’s
couch patterned sleeve. “Remind me to ask Nancy where she finds
such interesting fashion.”

Brooke smiled, relief showing in her puffy
eyes. “Don’t be jealous. You too can pass for furniture. Just be
lucky enough to get on her Christmas list. I’d give it one more
conversation and she’ll be asking your size.”

“Don’t jinx me.” Seeing the Brooke she knew
and loved returning, Millie’s hopes flounced back to life. No more
of the watery eyed poor me girl from a moment ago. “I don’t mean to
be dense here, but, are we getting the hell out of here now?”