Somebody Like You (Starlight Hill Series Book 2) (11 page)

“Not in the truest sense of the word. No. Why? Is that a problem?”

Brooke swallowed. “No, it’s not a problem. But you and me? Gigi will hate it. She doesn’t trust me.”

“That’s only a bonus, and not the main reason I want you.”

“Don’t joke about this.”

“I know what I want. Maybe it’s time for you to decide what you want. Because what I want is to change everything, and there’s no going back.”

“You make it sound so simple.”

“It is,” he said.

“Is it? You and I are so different …”

“When we were kids. Now we’re adults. I don’t think we have to stay inside our cliques anymore. Do we?”

“But— I like to think we’re friends.”

She didn’t want to ever regret Billy like she did George. Didn’t want to watch Billy throw her over for the young fertile ingénue, and really, what were the odds that a wealthy athlete would get tired of her? After he’d had his fill, of course. She’d probably win big in Vegas on those odds.

“I already have plenty of friends. I want more with you. And if you’re dating, you need to at least give me a shot. Let me take you out.” Billy grinned.

So that’s what this was all about. Simple envy for something he couldn’t have? And dating Billy Turlock? The jock? The guy who’d let her down once before? “That’s impossible. Everyone is watching. It’s like being under a microscope.”

“It’s not like I’d want to keep our relationship secret, but there are ways for us to find our privacy. Believe me.”

She’d bet he knew every one of those ways. Brooke backed up to the door and pressed against it. “I’m going to go now.”

“Think about it.” Billy was speaking with his eyes again. This time his bedroom eyes. Her imagination was going on a thrill seeking ride thinking about how else he used that tongue.

“I am.” She felt her face grow hot. “I mean, I will,” she said and turned to walk out the door.

She already knew very well what she wanted. She wanted to lie under him in his bed, to discover all his hidden talents. But there was a lurking danger to all of it with Billy. It already felt like he had a piece of her heart, and she hadn’t seen him for nearly half her life.

What would he do to the rest of her heart, given any more time?

*****

Thank God for baseball. For training and discipline, mind over matter. For ignoring the body when it was about to give out on you. For realizing your body was almost always more capable of what your mind believed.

If not for baseball, Brooke would be in his bed right now. Consequences be dammed. Because he could sense, given the way she’d kissed him, she wanted him. And he wanted her so much it had become a burning ache in his chest.

She kept holding back, and while there were reasons they shouldn’t be together, he could hit every one of them right out of the park. This could work, and he wouldn’t miss this second chance with her. Somehow when he wasn’t looking, he’d fallen headfirst into a haze of lust and longing for Brooke Miller.

His covert plan had nearly not worked for him. He might have chased every lame suitor away, but he hadn’t been prepared for the shove against his heart when he’d caught the pained look in her eyes. He couldn’t let her believe for one second it had anything to do with her. Those men didn’t deserve her if they could be so easily swayed by Series tickets and the attention of a has-been like him.

No, she deserved better than that.

Even in high school, Brooke had deserved better. She never seemed to think so, though. With her jet black hair and black nail polish, she scared most of the kids at conservative small town Starlight High. As far as he’d been able to tell, she’d had one friend. Ivey Lancaster. But that was also due to the fact that her parents fought over her constantly, and Brooke was forced to spend every summer out of state and living with her father’s new family.

Each time she’d come back she seemed a little bit more pissed off with the entire world, but jocks in particular. And then there were all her causes. At the height of them a little something called world peace, ironic for a girl with a chip on her shoulder the size of Texas. Regardless, Brooke championed one cause after another. She stood outside the cafeteria and collected signatures for petitions. Save the Whales, Save the Arts, Save the Koalas, Better pay for Teachers (and for some reason no one considered her a kiss-ass).

In their senior year, a favorite English teacher had died in a horrible car accident. That’s when he’d discovered Brooke didn’t cry like most girls. Every girl had bawled uncontrollably, but Brooke had stared into space with a bitter, hard look in her eyes.

She’d scared him a little bit too.

Mostly because she went against every expectation he had about girls, and they were hard enough to understand without Brooke throwing everything off kilter.

In high school he’d been a serial dater. He’d never had that first love that burned so brightly it threatened to extinguish everything in its path. That wouldn’t have been wise given his aspirations to the Hall of Fame. Wise or not, it hadn’t happened. He dated one girl after another, which might have been how he’d gained his reputation. Because he didn’t kiss and tell, and everyone just assumed. Naturally he’d let them, since he’d been a teenaged jock.

The whole image had suited him well, until Brooke. Now he was half convinced Brooke didn’t want to be one more on the supposedly long list of Billy Turlock conquests.

Even if he’d known from that first kiss long ago that this was the fire that could burn too brightly. That had scared him too. But now —well, now he was ready for one hell of a sunburn.

He picked up his cellphone and dialed Brooke’s number. She answered after the second ring, sounding breathy and like sex on a stick.

“Hey,” he said. “Would you go out with me Friday night?”

There was a short pause. “Listen up. I’m going to tell you something you’ve probably never heard before: no.” She hung up.

Ironically, Brooke had no idea how many times he’d heard the word ‘no’.

No, another surgery won’t help. No, your contract hasn’t been renewed. No, no, no.

He could let that piss him off at her clichéd assumptions. But he was too busy to be angry.

He needed a Plan B.

Apologizing to Billy for being a bitch wound up on Brooke’s list again. Just because she didn’t think it was a good idea to date him didn’t mean she had to be cruel about it. But a week later, she hadn’t seen much of Billy, or apologized to him. He’d taken off to LA for a few days to do a commercial with some of the other retired Sliders athletes. He’d been gone four days now, and yet he was supposed to be the face of this business.

He wasn’t fooling her. Billy Turlock was not done with baseball, no matter what he said. Sure, he was currently retired but didn’t all athletes do that to get attention? Retire once only to opt back in. That might be fine with her, because with him gone she’d do even better pretending the place was all hers.

Even with Billy gone, Pop and Eileen still dropped by every day for a few hours.  It hadn’t been as horrible as Brooke had thought it might be. Thankfully, Pop was just as against the tofu menu appetizers, and he kept trying to talk some sense into his daughter. To Brooke, hope still sprang eternal. She might be able to eventually talk some sense into Eileen.

Eileen had looked up the definition of ‘cougar’, and confided in Brooke that she thought she had the goods to be one. Unfortunately, the search for the perfect man for Eileen moved slowly. Forty-something-year-old eligible gentlemen didn’t just grow on trees.

Eric had now officially come on board and Brooke made him head of marketing. It was through Eric that Brooke had finally been updated on the inner happenings at Serrano Winery. Chelsea was a disaster as interim general manager, the VP of Sales position wasn’t even mentioned any longer, and George wasn’t happy. So unhappy he was already cheating on Chelsea, Eric had said. Not that he wouldn’t have done that eventually, happy or not.

Brooke sighed, stretched, and rose from her laptop. She’d been at it for four hours this morning, had a planning meeting with Eric, and then spent another four hours at the laptop this afternoon. She’d written another list of goals to accomplish before the Grand Opening.

Brooke’s cellphone rang, and when the caller ID showed Billy’s name, she didn’t know why her chest expanded like that of a kid on Christmas morning. “Hey. Are you back yet?”

“Just got in about a half-hour ago. I need to shower and change, but meet me down by the Chardonnay row in about an hour. There’s something I have to talk to you about, and it’s important.”

“O-kay.” Brooke didn’t like the sound of his voice, short, clipped, and to the point. Was there something wrong on the Chardonnay row that she didn’t know about? Maybe he only sounded short because of the plane ride. Or maybe Gigi had finally convinced him he should get rid of Brooke. Maybe he wanted the privacy of the Chardonnay row because he thought she’d have a temper tantrum.

For reasons she decided not to examine too closely, Brooke took another shower, reapplied her makeup and fluffed her hair into submission. A nippy early November chill had settled into Starlight Hill seemingly overnight, and it was serious sweater time. That didn’t mean she couldn’t find a nice one. Brooke dug through her closet and found her tight camel cashmere sweater and paired it with her sleekest pair of jeans. She stuffed her pant legs into the long black leather boots that reached her knees. Ivey called them Ms. Dominatrix boots.

If Billy was going to fire her, at least he’d do it while she looked smoking hot. She gave once last assessment in her full length mirror. It would have to do.

But he wouldn’t fire her. He couldn’t. Her legs were shaking just a bit as she walked up the hill to the row. In the middle of the row, a sight surprised her. Someone had laid a blanket on the ground and a bottle of wine stood in the middle. There were two glasses of wine, and a picnic basket.

This was so unacceptable. People couldn’t just come onto private property and have themselves a picnic. And now they were hiding, because they’d been caught.

Suddenly she heard Billy’s voice behind her. “You’re a little early.”

She turned to see his perfect grin. He wore jeans and a leather jacket that did all kinds of badass things for him. It made him look equal parts bad boy and jock.

She was early, true, because she’d been so nervous. But something split down the middle inside her, because Billy had put together this spread for her. Now he took her hand and led her to the blanket.

“You made a picnic.” Stating the obvious always worked for her when she had no words.

“You’ve been working so hard. I wanted you to take a break.” Billy went to work on the corkscrew. 

This wasn’t a date. He was simply taking care of a hard working employee. Brooke sat down on the blanket.

Billy handed Brooke the cork. Most people didn’t know its importance. Even fewer of them appreciated the fact that Brooke knew what to look for in one. But Billy did. “This looks fine. Is it from the cellar?”

“Yep. It’s a 2000 Mirassu Merlot.” Billy poured, sniffed and handed the glass to Brooke. “It was a good year, right?”

The irony wasn’t lost on Brooke. That was the year they’d both started at Starlight High. The year they’d met. “You should have saved this for a special occasion.”

“You’re more than deserving.” Billy sat across from her and raised his glass. “To the start of a great partnership.”

Brooke clinked her wine glass with his. This was so much better than what she’d been worried about. “I’m glad you’re back. We need to talk about the Grand Opening.”

“Sure, but we should eat first.” He reached inside the picnic basket. “In case you still don’t eat meat, I bought some vegetarian sandwiches. There’s fruit and cheese in here, too.”

“I’m not a vegetarian anymore,” Brooke admitted. That had been one of many causes in her pent-up angst youth. When every other week there was a new animal or a new country that required saving. Now she left all the earth-saving to Mom. The earth was covered.

“You’re not a lot of things anymore,” Billy stared at her. “Not a brunette or a vegetarian.”

“Not a virgin,” she added, and immediately regretted it. Why she would bring that up right now only the much younger and sexually frustrated Brooke would know.

It didn’t seem to faze Billy. “I didn’t think so.”

Subject change. Quick. “So how was LA?”

“Predictable.” Billy popped a grape in his mouth. “Gigi says hello.”

Brooke raised an eyebrow. “For real?”

He nodded and grinned. “That’s not all she said, but that’s the only part you want to hear about.”

“That I believe.” Brooke played with the frayed edges of the blanket, while she tried not to imagine how many other women had sat on it. It didn’t matter because this wasn’t a date.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Billy said because he did always have that annoying way of hearing her thoughts.

“No.”

Billy laughed out loud. “You do enjoy saying that word to me, don’t you?”

Brooke couldn’t help but smile, maybe because of the wine, both a bit stout and smooth. “Actually, no.”

“Nice. You’re going to have a hard time convincing me of that.”

“Yes. You’re probably right.”

Somehow it would seem that she and Billy were holding hands now. It didn’t seem possible, but it also felt like the most natural thing in the world. Billy played with her hand, raising it up, bringing it back down again. Leave it to him to actively hold her hand. She wished he would sit still for a minute. But when he brought her hand to his lips and brushed a kiss on it, everything in the vineyard did seem to still for a moment. He could be serious too, when he wanted to be, and she’d almost forgotten that. He could be heart-attack serious.

And suddenly this felt a little bit like a date.

She wanted to kiss him more than she wanted another sunrise tomorrow morning. His kisses were like crack and she probably should have just said no the first time. Forgetting herself, Brooke straddled his lap and her legs came around his back.

She threaded her fingers through his thick hair. “Oh, Hotshot, why do you always do this to me?”

Then she kissed him softly, his only answer a ravaging kiss that reached inside her chest to take her heart for ransom. For the next few minutes every cell in Brooke’s body was one long cord of need that only Billy could fill.

“Brooke,” Billy rasped near her ear, and then trailed a line of kisses down her neck.

Brooke didn’t want to think anymore, but only feel. That’s what Billy did to her. He woke her up. She didn’t know why, but he’d been the only one ever able to do it. From the first time he’d kissed her, and she’d understood why girls behaved like fools over him.

She thought she heard a sound coming from behind them and froze. Billy did too.

“Did you hear that?” Brooke scrambled off his lap, something she was doing a lot these days.

Billy rose and walked to the end of the row, his head turning in each direction. “No one here. We’re alone.”

“I know I heard something.” She wasn’t paranoid. It was a distinctive clicking sound. But the reporters and photographers had finally made themselves scarce. Still, what if one of them had sneaked up here to spy on them?

Billy walked back towards her. “Where were we?”

“I think we were at the point where I regain my senses.”

“I don’t like the sound of that.”

She almost laughed. “When Gigi thought I might be interested in you, she suggested I move. I like living here.”

Billy reached for her arm and whirled her around. “You don’t have to go anywhere.”

“Maybe it’s a good thing this happened. Gives us a chance to put the brakes on. For some reason, when I’m around you I stop thinking.”

“Ditto.”

“Well, see, that’s not good. One of us should be thinking.”

He looked at the ground, and rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re right.”

“Damn you. Stop agreeing with me.”

His lip quivered, like he wanted to smile. “What do you want?”

“I like that we’re friends. We never got to be that when we were younger. Now we can be, and I don’t want to ruin that.”

Brooke walked back up to her cottage, Billy following.

When she was just inches from her door, Billy twirled her around and she wound up back in his arms. “If you ever want to be more than friends, you know where I am.”

She had her palms against his chest, but this time she wouldn’t raise them to his neck. Billy scared her a little, and for a girl who liked a thrill, saying no to him was beginning to take on a Herculean effort beyond mere mortal capabilities. She didn’t speak for several seconds, only stood in his arms staring at his chest. 

He raised her chin and brushed his lips across hers. “Brooke?”

“I need some time to think.”
Yes, you idiot. Let the hot man go so you can go inside and stare at the ceiling.

Billy’s arms slipped from around her waist, and he let her go. The man understood ‘no’ better than any man she’d ever met before. “Take all the time you need.”

Just like that, he’d gone, taking all his seething male hotness with him. Brooke slipped inside the front door of her cottage, and took off her Ms. Dominatrix boots. They wouldn’t see any action tonight. When she placed them beside her bed, the top half flopped over the bottom half and they looked as deflated as Brooke felt.

A few hours later, after yet another frozen dinner alone, she undressed and put on her flimsy satin pink baby doll nightie. The one Billy wouldn’t be taking off her tonight. That one.

Why couldn’t she just let go and make love to Billy? Why was she making it such a big deal? Was it because Billy had taken her back to the days when she was pickier, choosier, and when even he wouldn’t have been able to storm the castle?

They could be discreet, and Billy wouldn’t kiss and tell. That was obvious. But while she’d bounced back from George throwing her over, she didn’t think she could when Billy got tired of her.

Brooke cuddled up on the couch with a book. She’d just gotten to the good part, where the hero finally confesses his love for the heroine, when all the lights went out. Every. Single. One.

No, not this.
It hadn’t happened in years. The power was out, and in the pitch black darkness Brooke couldn’t take in a solid breath. She was prepared for this eventuality. With a phobia like this, the doctor had suggested it. That is, after he couldn’t talk her into the full immersion therapy. No way would she spend fifteen minutes in a dark room voluntarily. Was the man crazy?

She crawled along the floor and felt her way to the kitchen drawer where she kept the flashlights. As luck would have it, tonight there was a sliver of a moon outside. It wasn’t shining through the window closest to the kitchen, so she had to fumble her way.

I’m not going to die, this can’t kill me. It’s just the dark. The dark can’t hurt me. The dark can’t kill me.

Brooke repeated her mantra, but as usual it didn’t help. She still couldn’t draw in a real solid breath.
Please don’t let me pass out here all alone.
She found the flashlight and pulled it out. Turned it on. Nothing. It had been so long since she’d used it the batteries had died. Should have checked the batteries. The moon would have to do. She started to crawl towards the door.