Read The Other Brooks Boy (Texas Wildfire Series) Online
Authors: Diane Roth
The Other Brooks Boy (Texas Wildfire Series)
The
Other Brooks Boy
by
Diane
Roth
Book
One of the
Texas
Wildfire Series
Texas
Wildfire ... untamed, unpredictable, ignited by nothing more than a spark. Love
is exactly like wildfire, bigger, hotter, consuming everything and everyone in
its path.
If
you can't stand the heat, stay out of Texas.
He wants her.
Since her husband
died eighteen months ago, Cara's handsome brother-in-law, Greg has been her
go-to-guy for advice, help with her teenagers, handyman repairs, and just about
anything else she needs. His broad shoulders are more than able to carry the
load. Lately, Cara's been feeling drawn to him in an altogether new way and she
can't deny the sparks between them anymore. Greg Brooks is a dynamic and
successful forty-year-old man who just happens to be really fit and damn good
looking. No, there is nothing wrong with Greg Brooks.
Except one
thing.
He's her
brother-in-law, and that is a deal-breaker.
This
book is lovingly dedicated to my husband, Jerry, who inspires each and every
one of my heroes. You're the real deal, Honey. Thank you for your belief in me
from the very beginning. I love you.
And
to my BFF, Missy, who dared me to write the very first one and fully believed I
could do it. I love you, Minnie.
Copyright
© 2013 T. D. L. Rothrock
All
Rights Reserved
No
part of this work may be copied, printed, digitally transmitted, or used in any
manner without the expressed written consent of the author.
This
is a work of fiction. Any resemblances to actual persons or events are purely
coincidental.
Cover
by The Killion Group, Inc.
Copy-editing
by Paula Howard
Special
thanks to Sandy Raven for her invaluable assistance in all things
Indie-publishing, and to my parents Joann and Weldon for their unflagging
support.
Table
of Contents
One
She looked hot,
Greg Brooks thought, then reined in his runaway thoughts as he approached the outdoor
kitchen belonging to his sister-in-law Cara, who at the moment, was blissfully
unaware of his presence. She was probably going deaf one day soon, if the
volume on her MP3 player was any indication. Greg had called her name a couple
of times to no avail, but as he approached her it was easy to understand she
couldn't possibly hear him over the screaming vocals of Steven Tyler and
Aerosmith. Hell, if he could hear that from her earphones at this distance, she
wouldn't be able to hear it thunder.
It amused him to
watch her unawares for a minute. She danced around, her back to him, auburn
hair all piled on top of her head in a messy updo, wearing damn near Daisy Duke
cutoffs and a tight baby tee. If she wasn't his sister-in-law he'd have thought
her smokin' hot.
The thought
brought him up short.
Again.
For the second
time in the last thirty seconds he'd had to give himself a good mental shake.
What the hell was up with that? This was Cara, damn it.
She wiped at the
stainless steel grill top with a damp cloth, then paused to lean back, a
bitchin' rock and roll expression on her face, and played a little air guitar.
Greg laughed and decided he might have a seat on one of the barstools behind
her and watch the show. But the show was over the minute he pulled it away from
the counter, his movement catching her eye. She whirled around like a kid
caught raiding the candy jar, her cheeks pinkening, and she wrinkled her pert
nose, embarrassed. She finally lost the battle with a grin that spread across
her face, and she removed the buds from her ears.
"How long
have you been there, Gregory?" She couldn't conquer that grin for
anything, but her hands came to ride those saucy hips to add some semblance of
censure to her question.
Greg didn't even
try to fight his own smile. "Long enough, Caroline." They locked
battle gazes for a moment. "Helluva air guitar you played there. I had no
idea."
She finally lost
it and laughed right out loud. "Enjoyed that, did you?"
"Oh,
yeah." He sat down on the stool and rested his elbows on the mosaic tile
bar top. "Got a cold beer in that fridge, barmaid?"
"Sure
do," she said, then turned and bent to retrieve a couple of cold ones out
of the under-the-counter fridge. Greg caught himself almost checking out her
ass and wondered what the hell had happened to him today to have him acting
like such a horn dog.
"Will lager
do? I'm out of anything lighter out here." She spoke to him over her
shoulder, bent at the waist in those little bitty cutoffs, and he literally had
to avert his gaze to keep from looking at her.
"Yeah,
sure. Anything's fine," he said distractedly. Hell, he might pour it in
his lap. Something was bad wrong with him today.
She opened both
bottles and handed him one, then pulled a long draw off hers. "Oh, man. I
needed that. Glad you stopped by and gave me an excuse to take a
breather." She pressed the cold bottle to one of her cheeks to cool
herself off.
He took a drink
of his, too. "Yeah, Rock and Roll is a hard way to go."
She shot him a
wry look out of the corner of her brown eyes, but refused the bait.
"Where's my son?"
Greg jerked his
head toward the front of the house. "Out front. A car full of girls
followed us into the neighborhood, and he stopped to talk to them while I came
in to find you."
"How'd he
play today?"
Greg nodded.
"He did well. Gave away a few runs, but we won. And his arm stayed pretty
hot the whole game. Good stamina."
"I'm glad
he won. Last game of the season ... wish I could have been there."
"I know.
But you can't be everywhere at once, momma." Greg knew it was a constant
source of worry for her now that she was the only parent to his niece and
nephew, that she counted every game missed, every event she couldn't quite
manage. Single parenting was not for the faint of heart. And while Caroline
Brooks had one of the best and bravest hearts he knew, even her strong heart
ached for her kids when she couldn't do it all.
"Thank you
for reminding me of that, but it doesn't keep me from wanting to."
"How'd
Maddie's thing go?"
She wobbled her head
back and forth and grimaced slightly. "So-so."
He raised his
bottle to take a sip, but stopped in mid-air, surprised at her answer. It
wasn't like Cara's kids to do anything "so-so". Madison and Ryan
excelled at virtually everything in life, like their dad had. Good looks, good
grades, athleticism ... great kids. Greg knew he was biased, but he was also
intelligent enough to know that these kids were far above average. Cara was
doing a bang-up job of rearing her teenagers to be successful in whatever they
chose to do with their lives.
"This was
dress rehearsal, right? What happened?" he asked.
"Yes, but
her ankle is still so weak and tender. I don't know if she's going to be able
to really shine tomorrow. And if she can't do it perfectly, she hardly wants to
do it at all," Cara said and rolled her eyes.
He chuckled.
"Wonder where she gets that?"
She dimpled at
him. "Must have been her dad. It seems like a Brooks trait to me."
He laughed
again. "But she gets her good looks and talent from you, right?"
"Sure,"
she said, winking and patting at the back of her messy hairdo with one hand.
"Can't tell it today, though, can you? Ryan and his friends were out here
around the pool yesterday afternoon and left this kitchen in a mess. I've been
out here cleaning since Maddie and I got home from rehearsal. And it's hot as
Hades today. Way too hot for early May."
"It's
Texas, babe. That's the way we roll around here."
"Hey, I'm a
Texan. I know this weather as well as you. But it's still too early to be
nearly triple digit heat out here," she complained.
He only nodded
and drank more beer. That's the way Texans survived the heat. More beer. Lots
of good, cold beer.
"Are you
coming to the recital tomorrow?" she asked, scrubbing at a particularly
stubborn stain on the grout.
"I'm
planning to. What time does it start?"
"Three
o'clock. It's in the high school theater. Do you know where that's
located?"
"I think
so," he said, frowning and trying to remember exactly. It seemed as though
Maddie had danced there before in some production or another he had attended.
"Well,
you're welcome to ride with us if you want, but we have to be there super
early," she offered under advisement.
"No, I'm
good. I'll find it. Besides, I've got to be at the airport around eight
tomorrow evening. I'll need to take my pick up."
She stopped her
scrubbing and canted her head to one side. "Where are you off to
now?"
"Wichita,
Kansas," he said with all the enthusiasm of a pallbearer.
She winced
sympathetically. "Woohoo!"
He pulled a swig
out of his bottle and placed it on the bar in front of him. "It pays the
bills."
"You're
flyin' out tomorrow night, but you're coming to the recital." Her eyes
softened and her smile went sweet. "You're a great uncle to my kids, you
know that, Gregory Brooks?"
He tried to
shrug it off.
She reached
across the counter and laid her hand on top of his, then gave it a squeeze.
"I mean it. You spend more time with them than their dad--" she said,
then stopped and closed her eyes for a time. He said nothing, but watched her.
Finally she gathered her emotions and opened her eyes again. "I'm sorry,
Greg. I didn't mean to speak ill of your brother."
He turned his
hand over and laced their fingers together. "Listen, Cara ... I don't hold
any judgments about that kind of thing. I know good and well that Jason wasn't
the best dad in the world. He traveled all the time and worked really
hard."
"And so do
you." She rounded her brows and nodded smugly, then gave him another
squeeze with their entwined fingers. "Yet, you're always here. Always
involved with their activities."
"It's where
I want to be," he said.
"And that,
my handsome brother-in-law, is what makes it so very special," she said, and
released his hand after one final hug-like squeeze. And he felt as though she'd
hugged him. Just that innocuous touch of their intertwined hands had felt more
like a full body hug for some reason.
He smiled
lopsidedly and wished they'd move on to another subject.
She parked one
fist on her hip. "You don't, however, have much of a social life,"
she added as an afterthought, a frown pinching her auburn brows together.
"Not unless
you count watchin' big, strappin', corn fed, overall wearin', Kansas boys wrasslin'
on a mat in a gym. That's who I'm going to meet on Monday. Now that is
what I call entertainment," he said in his best Texas drawl.
She giggled at
him. "No, I'm serious, Greg. Are you seeing anyone lately?"
He shrugged and
peeled at the label on his beer. "Not really."
She didn't say
anything, but when he finally looked up at her, she looked back at him with all
sorts of emotion rippling in those brown eyes. Pity was not a pretty thing for
him to see there. "Still having post-divorce trauma?" she ventured.
"No,"
he said, shaking his head assuredly. "That is definitely not it."
"Then
what?"
"What,
what?" he asked, being deliberately obtuse. This line of questioning was
making him squirm.
"Come on
now. You're a thirty-nine-year-old, healthy male. Surely you've got a desire to
date and ... well, you know," she said, trailing off and looking like she
might have painted herself into an awkward conversational corner.
Oh, she
had
to know he was going to intercept that ball and run with it. His gaze found hers
and tied it up. "What? ... have hot, sweaty sex with every willing woman I
can persuade?" he asked with a wicked grin. "Is that what you
mean?"
Now she looked
really uncomfortable. "No. That is not what I meant, and you know
it." She reproved him with a frown. "You know ... someone to
share things with. Somebody to eat dinner with, or take to a movie, or a game.
Just somebody." He watched her for a time. There was something running
deep in that sentiment for her, Greg recognized.
"Are you
lonely, Cara?" It wasn't something he thought about before he asked it. It
came out of his mouth before he even considered what her reaction might be.
She started
shaking her head at once and waved her cleaning rag at him. "Oh, heck no.
I don't have time for a man in my life," she said, scoffing, but he noted
she wouldn't quite meet his eyes.
It had been,
what ... eighteen months or so since Jason died? At times, it seemed
forever ago. Other times, Greg could hardly believe he'd been gone for over a
year. But it was certainly enough time that a healthy, thirty-nine-year-old
woman might consider finding a man to share things with. Surely the thought had
crossed Cara's mind. A woman in her prime had needs, too. And that thought sent
him off on another horn dog trail about his sister-in-law, God help him.
He didn't say
anything for a time, and she wiped at the now clean counter absently. But soon,
they were stealing looks at one another across that mosaic tile top and
wondering what was going on in the mind of the other. Just a whole lot of
surmising, he surmised.
"Guess it's
a good thing we have one another, huh?" she said quietly, but he felt it
ricochet around in his mind, fraught with possibilities.
Lord, he had to
go home now.
Maybe she was
right. Maybe he needed to find some willing woman and have a whole lot of hot,
sweaty sex. That'd cure him of this sudden malady of adolescent hormones.
He handed her
the empty beer bottle. "Thanks for the lager."
She took it from
him and pitched it in the recycle bin under the cabinet. "No charge."
She turned back to face him as he got off the barstool and returned it to its
place under the counter overhang. "See you tomorrow?"
"Sure
thing. Tell Maddie to ice that ankle tonight and that I'm pulling for her
tomorrow."
"I will,
Greg." She walked around the bar and hugged him. "Thanks for taking
Ryan to the game. Your support means the world to me. I couldn't do this
without you, you know."
He hugged her
back and felt like three kinds of a heel for noticing that she felt distinctly
like a woman in his arms. Damn. "Yeah, you could," he argued.
"You're doing a great job with these kids, Cara."
She stepped
back, putting some distance between them. "I get by with a little help
from my friends," she sang, smiling at him with twinkling eyes.
He winked at her
and left to go find a cure for what was ailing him. It was clear he was one
jacked up guy today.
