Unsocial (31 page)

Luke
pats him on the shoulder, “Hell yeah, I’m proud. There’s no way I could have
done that.”

Dylan
and Jackson both nod, and Trevor, who hasn’t even met Michael before smiles
over at him, “You know if I were as smart as you at your age I would have had a
lot more girlfriends.” Everyone laughs, even Michael, and I silently thank my
friend for bringing him out of his temporary funk.

I
laugh, “That’s probably true.”

Playfully
he bumps my hip, “Thanks a lot, but I know it’s true.”

Michael
laughs, “Thanks. Who are you?”

I
introduce the younger kids to Trevor. After visiting a while, Trevor and I have
to say goodbye because he has a gig tonight.  Alex and I are planning another
girls’ night since she had a full day at the salon today.

Tuesday
comes
fast,
and at the end of the day, I head over to the Monroe house. I love that there
is no sense of dread anymore as I drive there, now there is only excitement.
Not just to see Dylan, but the entire family. I ring the doorbell, and Dylan
answers covered in muddy paw prints, and I do mean covered. I laugh, “What
happened?”

“Luke
let the dog out in the rain and then let him back in without cleaning him up.”

Luke
walks over equally covered. “I didn’t know he was going to get so damn muddy.”

“Dirt
mixed with water makes mud, genius.” Dylan counters.

I
laugh again. Neither one of them is mad, plus they both have goofy grins on
their faces. I walk in and see puppy tracks everywhere. “Alright, you two go
clean up, and I will help the kids clean this mess,” I order.

Dylan
closes the door behind me, “Thanks, Brooke.”

I
just shake my head and watch him saunter down the hall to his room before
diving in to help scrub the mud off the floor, the door, the walls, the sofa; pretty
much every surface. The guys get back as we’re finishing up.  After we finally
get everything put away and settled back to normal, we take our usual seats in
the living room.  “Well, that was fun,” I say.

Gabby
has a massive smile on her face and her now a clean puppy, is lying on her
lap.  We catch up on everyone’s week. Afterward, Dylan and I sit in the living
room, “How was your weekend,” I ask him.

He
leans back on the couch, “Relaxing. We just hung around here, played with Toby.
Total domesticated bliss.” He says sarcastically. “I do have something I need
to ask you, though.”

I
raise an eyebrow, oh no. “Okay and what’s that?”

He
sits up, leaning forward and almost looks nervous, “Well, you know Thursday is
Thanksgiving.”

Ah.
Okay, I see where this is going. He needs help cooking. I nod my head slowly,
“Yes. Go on.”

“Well,
it’s just, shit, Brooke, Thanksgiving was just a huge fucking deal to Sylvia. I
mean huge. She went all out, and she was an amazing cook.”

I
stop him. “It’s okay, Dylan. I can help you cook.”

“Really?
No fight?”

I
nod my head. This is totally acceptable, right? I can help him prepare dinner
for the kid’s first major holiday without their mom. “No, no fight. I can come
over early and help you get everything started and then give you instructions
to make sure everything turns out perfect.”

His
face drops a little, “So you won’t stay for dinner?”

Of
course,
he wants me to stay. And damn I want to, but surely this is where I need to
draw the line.  “Well, I don’t know.”

Oh
no, here comes the charm. “Brooke, it’s just Thanksgiving dinner. A totally
platonic dinner. This is really important to them, and to me.”

Would
it be so bad?
It’s just like every other time I joined
them for dinner. I was helping the family adjust. I relent, “Okay, I would love
to join your family for Thanksgiving dinner.”

I
can tell he’s pleased. “Excellent.”

I
stand up, and I start to walk to the door, and then I remember Alex and Trevor.
“Oh shit, I can’t.”

He
immediately looks disappointed. “Damn, that was fast. Think of an excuse
already?”

“No,
it’s just I promised Alex and Trevor that we would have a dinner. I’ve had
Thanksgiving dinner with their family for years, and this year their parents
moved to Florida, so we agreed to have dinner together this year. It’s
tradition.”

He
scratches his chin, “Okay, so invite them too. The more, the merrier. That was
always Sylvia’s philosophy.”

I
look at him like he is crazy. “You’re kidding right?”

“Nope,
just please come. It will mean the world to the kids.”

I
agree, “Okay, we will be here.”

“Great.
So Thursday, bright and early, right?”

I
nod, “Very bright and early.”

“Well,
you could always spend the night,” He suggests seductively. 
Oh, the
temptation.

I
laugh him off, even though I know he was serious.  “Down, big guy.” I steer
back toward the dinner.  “Alex and I were supposed to go shopping tonight, so I’ll
get everything we need.  What are some of everyone’s favorite dishes,
especially desserts?” I ask.

He
shakes his head, “You don’t have to. I’ve already bought everything with the
kids on Sunday.  I just need help preparing it, and believe me; we will have
enough.”

Wow.
He’s getting good at this domestic thing. “Okay, then.  Thursday it is.  Call
if you can think of anything else.”

“Thank
you, Brooke.” Have I mentioned I love the way he says my name?

I
leave and drive straight home praying that this isn’t going to turn into a big
deal or another butting of heads with Alex. I walk in, and she’s waiting for me
on the couch, “Finally, we have to get to the store.”

I
sit on the couch, “Well actually, we don’t.”

She
raises her eyebrows at me, “What do you mean? Oh, did you have time today at
lunch or something because that would be awesome. I hate shopping for
groceries.”

I
laugh, “Yeah, I know. No, but um…” Okay just spit it out. Act like it’s no big
deal, because it’s not.
Liar.
“Well, because we are going to be joining
Jackson and the Monroes for Thanksgiving dinner.”

“Jackson
and the Monroes?” She asks with her famous one-eyebrow raise.  I never did
master that.

I
purposefully put Jackson’s name first because of her attraction. “Look, it’s
the kids’ first holiday without their mom and dad. They need it to be
spectacular, and we can help with that. This is the time for giving, and we can
make a difference.”
Okay, now I’m just laying on a thick guilt trip.

Which
she totally catches.  She chuckles lightly, “Wow, Brooke, you are getting damn
good at bullshitting. But, okay, it sounds fine.  I mean just the three of us
was kind of pathetic anyway, and there will be a lot of people surrounding you
and Dylan. Don’t think you can get into any trouble that way.”
She just
won’t quit.

I
nod my head and bite my tongue, so this doesn’t go south on me. I don’t want to
have to decide who I’m going to have dinner with because I’m scared I would
make the wrong decision here.  I don’t want any more drama. Just nice a simple
Thanksgiving. These kids deserve it.

This
is a good thing, and it’s all going to turn out fine, right?

Dylan

It’s
Wednesday, the night before Thanksgiving.  All day we’ve gone back and forth
making sure I have everything needed for her to make the perfect Thanksgiving
dinner for everyone.  She even took the time this morning to come over and
decorate the dining room with Cassie.  Luke and I had gone to the shop for an
unexpected delivery of a car for a client from Nebraska, so I had missed her. 
I called to thank her, and that spurred the phone tag we were playing.  To be
honest, I’m calling to hear her voice.  She’s spent most of the time laughing
at me because she thinks I’m in a panic, but we all know how much I love her
laugh.

Right
now I’m on the phone with Brooke standing in front of an open refrigerator. It’s
almost 8, and the kids are fed and are all relaxing around the house. They got
out for Thanksgiving break yesterday and don’t have to return to school until
Monday.

“Do
you have heavy cream?”

“Yeah,
I got that too.”

“Okay,
and sweet potatoes?”

“Yes,
sweet potatoes. I have everything on your list, all I need now is you.”

I
close the fridge and bang my forehead on the door. 
Did I really just say
that?

I
hear Brooke’s sweet laugh on the other end of the phone, “Well, I will be there
at 7 A.M. And I’ve told Trevor and Alex to be there around four since dinner
will be around 5.”

I
still can’t believe I invited not one, but two cockblockers to Thanksgiving.
Jax was going to be bad enough on his own. I just wanted Brooke here. I don’t
even have any intentions of making a move; I just want her company.
Wow,
t
hat doesn’t make me sound like a pussy at all.

At
least,
we will have most of the morning and afternoon alone, other than the kids. I
told Jax that dinner would be around 5, and the kids will probably want to
sleep in since they are on break. “Yep, sounds good.”

I
leave the kitchen and head into my room stretching out on my bed to settle in
for what’s hopefully going to be a long conversation with Brooke and isn’t
going to involve preparations for tomorrow.  I’m not ready to hang up yet, and
thankfully Brooke is on board and continues with conversation.  I settle
against the pillows and soak in her voice.  “So how is Michael doing after the
spelling bee?”

“He’s
good. Still wanted to get first place. He doesn’t get how fucking awesome it
was to get second place in the whole county. It’s a big fucking county.”

She
laughs again. That shit is music to my ears. “Yeah, it is. He’s insanely
smart.”

“Yeah,
just needs more confidence.”

“Well,
I’m sure you and Luke could help him with that.”

“Oh,
yeah, how’s that?”

“Because
you and Luke have what I call the Monroe swagger.  You guys walk around like
you own the world.  So confident and sure.”

“Do
stop, Ms. Porter.  I already know how awesome and sexy I am.”

“And
pretty.  Oh, and sweet.  Don’t forget sweet.”

“Okay,
okay, stop right there.  I’m not pretty or sweet.  I’m hot and brooding.”

“That’s
it. You’ve totally got that bad boy vibe going on that women just fall all over
themselves for.”

If
only I could get her to fall over herself.
I have a huge
grin on my face that fades when I hear a male voice in the background, “Brooke,
come on. We are starving!”

I
try not to growl audibly. I fucking hate that that asshole is in her apartment,
and I’m across town in my house. “Dylan, I’m sorry. I’ve got to get going, but
I will be at your house tomorrow morning.”

That
thought provides a little comfort. I just hope he keeps his hands off of her
tonight. “Okay, I’ll see ya tomorrow, Brooke. Thanks again for helping me.”

“It’s
no problem.  I’m excited, and I’m glad you invited all of us.”

“Me
too.  It should be fun.”

“Yeah,
it will be.  Night, Dylan.”

“Night,
Brooke.”

I
hang up the phone and lay it next to me on the bed. My thoughts are drifting to
all things Brooke. The thoughts range from what she is doing right now to what
I would love to be doing to her right now.

I
must have drifted off to sleep after I got off the phone with Brooke because I
wake up and look over at the clock next to my bed. 5 A.M. Wow. I went to sleep
a little after eight at night and woke up at 5 in the fucking morning. I am a
regular party animal nowadays. Shit, it was only four months ago that I was
crawling into bed at 5 A.M. praying I could get a couple of hours of sleep in
before I had to drag my ass out of bed and go into the shop.

I
stand up and stretch before heading to grab a shower.  I dress casually since
we’ll be cooking all day and go to brew a pot of coffee. Toby greets me happily
in the kitchen and then bounces to the back door to start pawing at it. I laugh
and open the door letting him outside into the backyard.  Back in the kitchen,
I mess with my phone while I drink my first cup of coffee. I go through a few
text messages from clients and a roll my eyes when a message from Joy wishing
me “a very Happy Thanksgiving.” Man, that girl is desperate as fuck. I delete
the text.

My
doorbell rings and I jump up instantly knowing for damn sure that it’s Brooke,
and I can’t get to the door fast enough. 
Jesus, Dylan.
I was just
calling Joy desperate, and then I fall all over myself to run to the door when
I know Brooke is on the other side.
Nice.

I
open the door to Brooke in jeans and a t-shirt.  Her hair is up in one of those
crazy ponytail things, messy or sloppy something or other.  Whatever it is, I
like it.  She in no way looks like she took the time to dress up like every
other woman I’ve known, but yet she looks sexy as fuck. I immediately get hard,
and I don’t think it’s going to go away.  I notice a black duffle bag in one
hand and several sacks of groceries in the other. “Mornin’, you staying the
night?”

She
laughs shaking her head, “No, but I didn’t want to drive back to my apartment
to change for dinner, so I was hoping I could just change here.”

“Ah,
yeah, of course, you can change here.  I’ll put it in my room like before. 
Come on in.”  I take the bag from her to carry to my room while she heads to
the kitchen with her hands full of groceries.

When
I walk into the kitchen, she finishes unpacking the bags and claps her hands
together. “Alright. Let’s start cooking.” I go to the fridge and pull out the
big-ass turkey.  She looks pleased, “That’ll do nicely.”

She
sets the oven and starts preparing the turkey.  I just stand there like a
stalker watching her every move and as insane as it may sound watching her rub
stuff all over that bird just makes my cock get harder.  I love watching her in
the kitchen. She loves to cook and gets into a zone. “So where did you go to
dinner last night?”

She
looks up for a moment, “Oh just a restaurant a block from my apartment.”

“You
all eat together every night?” I don’t want to sound like I’m interrogating
her, but my curiosity has the best of me.

“Not
every night. It depends on when we all get home. I’m at the office late a lot,
and sometimes Alex will get late clients. I have no clue what Trevor does while
he’s not on tour, and I don’t ask.”

I
don’t want to talk about Trevor. He’s a decent enough guy, maybe even a guy I
would be friends with under different circumstances, but seeing him around her just
pisses me off.  They are way too comfortable around one another. Thinking of
that fucker touching her puts homicidal thoughts in my head. I don’t want to
examine why that is, though.

After
she’s finished buttering and seasoning the Butterball, I lift the turkey for
Brooke to put in the oven.  I turn around, and she’s already grabbing stuff for
whatever’s next.  Obviously, no breaks in the kitchen today. 
Damn.
“Okay time for homemade rolls, my grandma’s recipe.”

Or
maybe there is.
I’ve been trying to find an excuse to
touch her and kiss her, but she hasn’t stopped buzzing around since she got
started. “Ah ha, I bought some rolls.” I hold up a package from the grocery
store.

Her
nose crinkles up, “Trust me on this one, homemade are oh so much better.”

No
break.

I
shake my head and laugh. “Whatever you say, Brooke.”

She
gets the flour out and starts to mix up ingredients. “So, Sylvia was big on the
holidays huh?”

I
laugh, that is an understatement. I lean against the counter. Brooke’s in the zone,
so I stay back. When she has a job for me, she’ll let me know. “Yeah, she loved
the holidays and made sure everyone else did too. She planned for weeks before
and even made my dad invite his friends from work and their families.  Usually,
they would just stop by for dessert at the end. She even let all of us invite
our friends if they didn’t have plans.”  I smile thinking of how kind my
stepmother was. “I had this friend in junior high; he was a spoiled rich kid,
but pretty cool to hang out with. His parents were dicks though and always went
away on vacation for Thanksgiving and left him with a nanny. When Sylvia heard
that she got permission for him to stay with us while they were out of town
every year until we graduated high school.”

Brooke
smiles, “Wow, from what I have heard from you and the kids, she sounds like a
saint.”

“She
was, that’s why today is so important. I don’t want to fuck it up.” I can’t
believe how open I can be with Brooke now, especially considering who she is
and the fact that that the first time we met I didn’t want to tell her anything.
In the beginning, I hated the fact that she pretty much knew everything and
would be digging for more.  Now I’m totally honest, maybe too honest. I’m one
of the best bullshitters around, I swear, but she is impossible to lie to. I
want her here for dinner, but I can’t lie to her and say that I’m not nervous
about making sure this is a good day for my brothers and sisters.

“It’s
going to be great, Dylan. I promise. You guys are all together, and that’s the
most important thing.  Seeing how I’m this amazing cook, I’ve got the second
most important part covered. We’ll give them everything for a perfect holiday;
family, food, and football.”  We both share a laugh at that.

I
watch her knead the dough on the counter with flour in her hair and on her
beautiful face.  Another hot as hell look for Brooke Porter. I walk closer to
her, invading her space, but I don’t care. She stops kneading for a minute and
turns to me. I cup her face in my hand, “Dylan…”

It’s
just a breathless whisper, and I can see it on her face that she wants me to
kiss her, but I don’t want to make this time about that. As much as I ache to
taste her and touch her, I still want just to enjoy every moment we can have
together.  There will be a time for the heavy stuff later. When she runs her
tongue across her bottom lip, I briefly reconsider the decision.  It’s only 9
A.M. I still have at least an hour before the kids wake up. God the things I
could do to her in an hour. Instead, I brush the flour off her cheek using my
thumb and then back up a half step. “I know, Brooke.  I just want to thank you again
for doing this. It means a lot.” I graze my lips across her forehead deciding
not to push and ruin this moment.

Brooke
sighs.
Does she sound disappointed?
“You’re welcome.” She goes back to
kneading and then puts me to work peeling apples for the homemade apple pie. 

“I
can’t believe your grandmother taught you to cook like this. Nothing from the
box at all.  You’re making me feel all inadequate as a hunter and gatherer you
know, like maybe I should have gone hunting for the turkey or some shit.”

She
laughs, and I’m glad to lighten things up.  “You did fine, caveman.  Playing in
flour is a lot easier than it would have been trying to hunt for a turkey.  And
as sweet and gentle as you are, I bet you wouldn’t have been able to do it.”

“I
told you about this sweet business.”

We
both laugh and she goes back to cooking up a storm in my kitchen.

Cassie
and Gabby wake up and come out into the kitchen and visit with us before going
to get ready for the day.  At around 11 all four kids are up and ready. Gabby and
Cassie are playing in the backyard with Toby while Michael and Luke are
watching pregame shows on ESPN. I’m still stalking Brooke through the kitchen
doing all the manly jobs, you know, filling pots with water, setting pots of
water on the stove, draining pots of water, and then there’s watching Brooke’s
fine little ass as she sashays around my kitchen bending over and reaching
under counters.  I had long since turned on our favorite cooking playlist, and
she wasn’t disappointing me.  She’s so relaxed when she’s flitting about the
kitchen creating her brand of magic through food. I have discovered Brooke has
many brands of magic, but I especially like this cooking one.  I cannot believe
all of the stuff Brooke is preparing from scratch. This girl blows my mind.

I
hear Luke and Michael join Cassie and Gabby in the backyard, and I’m wondering
if I could just sneak in one little kiss from her.  I just want a single taste
before everyone gets here, and our time alone is cut short.  Then I hear the
doorbell, and Brooke looks over at me confused. “Are you expecting someone this
early?”