Somebody Like You (Starlight Hill Series Book 2) (8 page)

“What a surprise,” Brooke said, eyes barely open.

“She keeps dozing off. I’ve been pinching her to keep her awake,” Billy said.

“Don’t worry,” Brooke said to Donna. “I will pinch him back. I just need to regain my strength.”

He watched Donna set a blood pressure cuff on Brooke and he assumed, take her vital signs.

“I’ll get the doctor.” Donna smiled and touched his shoulder right before she pulled the curtains shut.

“Billy, I think she’s sweet on you,” Brooke said once Donna left the room. “Isn’t everybody?”

He sighed. No, not everybody. There was one hard-headed woman who had put up walls too high to climb. “Whatever you say.”

“Now he tells me. Don’t try to get on my good side.”

“Do you think you have one?” Although as far as he was concerned, every side was a good one. Left side, right side, front side, and his favorite: the back side. The problem was her heart. Closed up tight.

Maybe even because of him.

The doctor arrived, and other than a brief nod to Billy, the man’s focus was entirely on his patient. The consummate professional, thank goodness.

Billy waited for the tests he knew would be coming. As a kid he’d once been knocked out by a fast ball so he recognized the procedure. He also realized someone would need to stay with Brooke tonight to make certain she’d wake every few hours. And that someone would be him, no matter what she had to say about it.

“Mild concussion. Again,” Dr. Lewis said a few interminable hours and several tests later. “So you know the drill. Someone to wake you every few hours. Do you want me to call someone for you?”

“No,” Billy said, standing. “I brought her and I’ll take her home. We’re neighbors. It makes sense.”

“Don’t let him. He only wants to have his way with me,” Brooke said. “And all he’s getting is one helluva pinch.”

“How long will she talk crazy like this?” Billy asked the doctor.

“I don’t know,” he deadpanned, “Another forty years, maybe?”

“Look at that, the doctor made a funny. It happens once every ten years, and you were here to see it, Billy.” Brooke sat up, appearing nearly recovered.

Billy knew better. No matter what she looked like now, concussions were nothing to take lightly. The interminable night stretched out in front of him, and damned if he didn’t anticipate every last second of it.

*****

Billy Turlock was a royal pain in the ass. Not just because he’d swooped in and picked her up in his arms like he was some kind of firefighter hero, but also because of the pinching. He’d brought her home, plopped her down on the couch and wouldn’t leave. To add insult to injury, now he wouldn’t let her sleep.

Sure, she understood she had to wake every few hours, but did he have to take such pleasure in it?

“Wake up, Bungee.” He nudged her. “It’s been long enough.”

“Stop calling me that,” Brooke swatted his hand away. “And stop waking me up. I was enjoying myself.”

“You’re telling me,” Billy said with a grin. “What were we doing in your dream? You said my name a couple of times.”

“What?” Brooke sat straight up, stone cold sober. “I did not. I’m not sleepy any more. How about some coffee?”

She couldn’t figure out if he was teasing her, or if some of her subconscious mind was out of control. Had she been dreaming of him again? She got up and starting switching lights on.

It needed to be bright in here. “These stay on all the time.”

“I thought it didn’t matter since you were asleep.”

“Well, it matters.” She wasn’t going to be telling any more of her secrets tonight.

After they’d argued for a few minutes over who would make the coffee, she finally let him, then flicked on the TV to a re-run of
Gilligan’s Island
. Billy sat next to her, uncomfortably and achingly close.

“I changed my mind,” Brooke said after a few minutes, switching channels. “I don’t want to watch this stupid show. I always wanted to be like Ginger but instead I was Mary Ann.”

“No way. You’re a Ginger if I ever saw one.” Billy grabbed the remote and switched it back on.

“Stop teasing me. I don’t have red hair and I’m not tall. That would be Donna the nurse. I’m sure you noticed her?”

“You’re a short blonde Ginger,” he said with a sexy grin. “A short, stacked, blonde Ginger.”

“Give me that,” she said wrestling the remote control back. “What we need is a scary movie to make you think twice about teasing me again. Something about those women who snap.”

“I’m all right with that. If you get scared, I don’t mind holding you until it passes. It would be a hardship, but I’m willing to do it. You fell on my property and it’s my responsibility.”

Brooke channel surfed for a few minutes but there wasn’t anything as scary on TV as those words had hit Brooke. She settled on a program about the rain forest.

Was it the concussion, or was she starting to feel some deeper affection for Billy? For the man who was, let’s face it, a jock
and
her boss.
No, Brooke, do not go there again.

Especially not with him.

She must have drifted off a while later because the next time she woke sunlight filtered through the curtains, and her head was in Billy’s lap. She raised her head to find him asleep as well, all the planes of that handsome face oddly relaxed. Usually he was so upbeat, friendly, energetic. Wound up tight as a guitar chord. She’d never seen him so— helpless. Vulnerable.

This would be the perfect time to pinch him. Instead she wanted to take a tour of his face, of his arms, his chest, and his abs. What he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. Or her, for that matter.

He had bed hair, tousled and spilling over one eye. Unfairly long eyelashes. Damn him. She wasn’t so set on her type that she didn’t notice Billy put the ‘H’ in hunk. Earlier he’d pushed up his long sleeves to his forearms, and she admired the cord of muscle strands in his arms. She took a closer look at the tattoo on his forearm. A nautical one of an anchor, with the words
Hold Fast
across the top. He had one arm slung over her, and the other stretched out on the back of the couch. All her movement under his arm, and he hadn’t moved a muscle. Poor guy was probably exhausted, keeping her awake. Of course he hadn’t tried the fun way of keeping her awake.

Mostly because Billy Turlock was a gentleman.

She could straddle him right now, and wake him up a way she didn’t think he would mind. Then together they could stay awake for hours. She’d thread her fingers through that long silky hair, and kiss along the beard stubble until she reached his mouth.

She wanted to connect the dots again. Even if this time if would have to be different. They were both ten years older, and he’d been around the block a few times since then. And she’d been, if not around, then at least nearby.

She moved onto his lap and straddled him, and he still didn’t wake. Did the man sleep like the dead, or what? Brooke was about to touch a single lock of his hair when a tiny alarm sounded from the direction of his wrist.

An omen. A literal alarm, setting off the warning that should have been in her head had it not been hit so hard yesterday. She scrambled off his lap as he shifted and opened one eye. Whew, that was close.

He fiddled with his wristwatch. “I set this to wake you up, but you beat me to it. How long have you been awake?”

“Oh, um, I just woke up too.” Brooke ran her tongue over her teeth. Did she have morning breath? Did he? Should she find out?

Bad idea, Brooke.

Even if it was risky and dangerous, two of her favorite things in the world. It so happened she was too vulnerable right now. Probably starting to miss sex. Well, no probably about it. 

“You can go now, Hotshot. Its morning and you’ve done your duty.”

“Are you sure? Because I provide a shower service as well,” he said with a mischievous grin.

And wouldn’t that be fun. It took every muscle in her body to restrain herself from tackling him.

His cellphone rang before she could answer, and he glanced at it and scowled. “Gigi.”

“Go ahead, take the call. But please don’t tell her you spent the night with me, concussion or not. I don’t want her flying out here again.”

He cracked a smile. “You’re probably right.”

“Sure. I’ll see you later.” She walked with him to the front door, shut it behind him and leaned against it.

Time to meet a man. She had to start dating again. Since she literally lived at her job, it might be difficult but she’d have to find the time. If she was ever going to get her mind and heart off the bright and shiny distraction that was Billy Turlock, it would be necessary.

Gigi had to be psychic. Otherwise, how could she have such evil timing?

He had seen something shift in Brooke’s eyes. Maybe she’d opened up to him a little bit. He didn’t want to embarrass her, but at least in her dreams he was getting somewhere. Now to translate that into real life so he might enjoy it as well.

“Yeah?” he answered his still-ringing phone.

“Oh easy there, slugger. Did I wake you?”

“I’m up. What is it?”

“It’s official. They’re going to rename the new hospital wing after you. And the donation isn’t as bad as I’d anticipated. I recommend you do it.”

“Fine,” Billy said, scrubbing a hand across his beard. “Let’s do it.”

He’d only made it a few feet from Brooke’s door, and it would take every vestige of will power not to turn around and go back to her.

Brooke. He wanted her so badly his teeth hurt. It wouldn’t be the disaster Gigi predicted, either. But he had the distinct impression he would have to convince Brooke of that as well. As much as he thought he’d caught a hint of desire in her eyes this morning, he was still an athlete. On the field or off, that wouldn’t change. Unfortunately he represented everything Brooke believed was wrong with the system. Even if he would have thought she’d be over it by now.

“…you haven’t heard a word I’ve said have you?” Gigi was saying.

He pulled his attention back to her. “Sorry. The, uh, vineyard is heavy on my mind.”

“Uh-huh, sure. The vineyard. As I was saying, the hospital wing will be finished by April and we’ll have a nice ceremony and you’ll mention all the great work being done there. Yada yada yada.”

He half-listened to the rest of the conversation, and had reached his door by the time he finished the call with Gigi. No going back now. Brooke would be taking that shower by herself, no doubt. What a waste.

Time to take his morning run, come back, take a shower, and stop thinking about Brooke.  Once upon a time she’d made it clear how she felt about him and all athletes in general. He wasn’t about to defend his life to her. She’d been right, and that was the end of it.

How many times had he regretted it? How many nights in those early years had he thought about Brooke and wondered how she was, alone in a big city? Her eyes had lit up when she’d heard about his scholarship to Chicago State. And he’d taken the light right out of those eyes.

But regrets did nothing for a man. It was the reason he wouldn’t be watching the World Series this season. Correction: trying not to watch any of the World Series. Best to move on from all the reminders of that time. He’d had his moment, and now he had to move on. According to Gigi, coaching little league or high school teams would be a huge step down. Laughable, even.

He should have taken the free ride to Chicago. But all the should-haves in the world wouldn’t change the fact that he and Brooke had gone in two different directions many years ago. Just because he viewed the fact that they’d wound up in the same place again as some kind of second chance didn’t mean she felt the same.

An hour later, Mom called with her usual great timing, as he was dripping wet from his shower. “Yeah, Ma? Everything okay?”

“Yes, dear. It’s just this World Wide Web. The Internet.”

Oh hell. This had to be the online dating website. He’d neglected that altogether. “What do you need help with?”

“Well, I don’t get it. I’ve been on the Internet for a few years now, with reading the gardening and food blogs. But these chat rooms are different. I asked Wallace about this and he specifically told me to call you. It’s all these abbreviations. Have we lost the art of conversation to the point where it’s too much of an effort to spell words out?”

“Yes,” Billy answered.

“What a shame. Is there some kind of dictionary available to figure this out? What’s DH, DD, and WTF?”

“Wait. Who said WTF?” 

“It’s this gentleman. We’ve been chatting online and the other day he wrote: WTF, are we going to meet or what? Does that mean well that’s fantastic? Because Wallace said no, and that’s when he told me to call you.”

Billy groaned. “Ma, do me a favor and stop talking to that guy. Anyway, I was about to call you about the menu.”

“Oh, the menu.”

“Why don’t you come by in a few days and you and I will talk with Brooke about your ideas?” Please God, let this work. He didn’t want to have to tell Mom what WTF meant.

“That sounds wonderful. I’ll get busy in the kitchen. I have so many ideas you’re absolutely going to love. And so will that darling Brooke.”

She might not be calling Brooke ‘darling’ after they were done meeting about the menu. In fact, he was almost sure of it. “Yeah, it’s great. She’s going to love all the suggestions,” Billy lied.

Sure, he’d have to play referee between the two women as he didn’t think Brooke would appreciate losing any control. But she might just have to budge a bit.

He had to distract his mother from the World Wide Web.

*****

A few days later, Brooke was back to business. Still wondering why the wine levels were not where they should be in tank ten, but she’d called someone to come take a look at it. One couldn’t be too careful.

And she was still eternally grateful for Billy’s alarm, or life might be wildly off course at the moment. Instead, progress on opening night moved along swiftly. Which was why she was  in the kitchen discussing the menu with Eileen, at Billy’s request. A couple of things were becoming clear to Brooke. Firstly, Eileen Turlock might have too much time on her hands.

Secondly, Brooke didn’t share Eileen’s obsession with tofu.

“I know it’s usually cheese and crackers, but this is my own personal healthy spin on that. After all, cheese will slowly kill your customers. So instead of cheese, a little slice of tofu. With a spring of mint on top.”

The crackers were fine. The sprig was a nice touch. The tofu would be served over her cold and dead body. “But Eileen, people don’t come to a winery for a health experience. They come to be a little decadent for a short time. To indulge.”

“Ask yourself if that’s a good idea. Do you want your customers to live long enough to come back again and again or do you want them to drop dead of cardiovascular disease?”

I don’t want them to drop dead, but I’d like this tofu to drop dead
. Instead Brooke said, “I’d rather they not drop dead.”

“Let me tell you a little something about indulging. After my husband left I spent years indulging. And poof, before I realized it I was thirty pounds overweight. And now, look at me. Lost all that weight, and I’m ready to date again.” She twirled around.

Ready to date again? Hmmmm. “You look great.”

“Thank you. By the way, how’s your head? I heard you took a bit of a fall.”

“It was nothing.”

Eileen went back to slicing tofu. “Eventually you won’t miss all that rich food. . I can’t even eat sugar anymore.”

“No sugar?” Brooke felt a bit faint.

“Diabetes is a raging epidemic. I can come up with some sugar-free recipes, too.”

“But I doubt we’ll have many diabetics as customers.”

“Don’t you want diabetic customers?”

“But Eileen, there’s sugar in wine too. It occurs naturally.”

“I have some ideas for that as well.”

Oh hell no.
“I see,” Brooke said, praying for patience. “Excuse me just a minute. I have to talk to Billy.”

“He went for his afternoon jog.”

She hadn’t seen him since several mornings ago when she’d wanted to jump him. Thankfully that urge had passed. Maybe she’d been hit in the head a bit harder than she’d realized. Billy represented everything that was wrong with the world. Sure, it wasn’t his fault that he’d been paid millions to have fun, and she couldn’t begrudge him his success. If not for that, she wouldn’t have this great job with its salary and benefits.

But athletes got paid way too much money for throwing a ball around.

Brooke took a  walk around the vines, trying to calm down. Eileen was driving her   nuts with the tofu and the health kick. Pop usually appeared daily to sit for a while with the grapes, but him she could handle. She’d grown to expect his crazy baseball analogies, trying to link everything under the sun with the game. But he was harmless, especially after she’d convinced him that she was not a spy.

Scott, she wasn’t all that certain about. He seemed to enjoy the attention of several women whom he occasionally brought by the vineyard for a tour. At this point tours weren’t open to the general public, but Brooke couldn’t seem to get this fact through to Scott.

Wallace was almost never around, and he was the strong silent type. She appreciated that.

The vines were beginning their metamorphosis to fall golden colors, despite the unseasonably warm October. Soon enough they would be dormant. Then the crew would guard against any frost, such a rare thing in the valley that she hadn’t thought about it in years. And of course, in the spring, she’d suggest some new cuttings. Maybe by then Pop would have found this tip she was beginning to think was figment of his imagination. 

She wondered if anyone had missed her leadership at Serrano by now. Soon enough she’d find out when she got the latest report from Eric. He’d kept in touch, and asked her to call when she landed somewhere.

Well, she’d landed all right.  Right in a pile of manure, it would appear.

She couldn’t do mothers, evidenced by her own less than great relationship with Mom. She didn’t do family, either. And now she was smack dab in the middle of Billy’s family. When she didn’t even put up with her own, why did she have to deal with his on a daily basis?

Billy had told her she could have control. She didn’t know how to explain this basic fact to Eileen without sounding like a first class bitch.

Well, she was pacing the vineyard now. If Pop were here today, he’d tell her to take a load off. He’d sit there and gaze at the vines, just taking it all in. Why couldn’t she do that? She didn’t know how to relax, that was the problem. But how could she relax when she had to whip this place into shape by December fifth?

She heard Billy before she saw him, the thudding sound of footsteps gaining in proximity to her.

Billy jogged through the vines towards her. One large heaping of male testosterone coming right up. With a double side order of lust.

Had anyone looked so good before, in the history of history? He wore jogging shorts with a green and white t-shirt. Not on him, where it belonged, but tucked into the waistband of his shorts. His chest was sweaty and glistened in the October sun. His pace slowed as he came closer and she heard the sound of his breathing— ragged, like he might sound after he’d just—
stop it, Brooke
!

“Boundaries!” Brooke shouted as he stopped in front of her.

“Come again?”

Yes, she’d love to but that wasn’t going to be possible right now. She put her palms out, like that could stop him. “If we’re going to work together, and live a stone’s throw away from each other, we need to establish some boundaries.”

He pulled the shirt from his waistband and used it to wipe away the sweat on his forehead. “I get it. So you’d rather not run into me when I’m all sweaty and half naked?”

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

“You do want to see me sweaty and half naked?” He grinned. Evil, evil man.

“No! That wouldn’t be appropriate.”

“Says the woman who walked out the front door in her panties.”

“I thought I was alone!” Would he ever let her live it down? Answer: probably not in this lifetime.

“You keep saying that.” Billy just smiled. “I take it your meeting with my mother didn’t go well?”

“It’s still going. I needed to take five when she suggested she might have found a way to remove sugar from the grapes. I couldn’t listen anymore.”

Billy winced. “There’s got to be a way to compromise. Can’t you explain that you have a different vision?”

“I don’t know how to do that and not sound like a bitch. You deal with her. I’ll be in my cottage.” Brooke turned around and marched up the hill to her cottage. Let Billy talk to Eileen. Brooke had a winery to run, and more lists to make.

The door had been shut for all of two minutes when there was a knock. Billy.

“Did you talk to her already?”

“No. I want to talk to you first.” He didn’t look pleased, the grin wiped clear off his face.

Brooke moved aside, and he walked past her. Shirt back on, thank goodness. But he was still a little bit sweaty with that Alpha male aura emanating off him. Hair pulled back in a ponytail, which unfortunately served to highlight his face and not his long hair. This was a problem because he had a great face. Even with scruff all over the jawline.

“Why is it so bright in here?” He asked. “Do you have the lights on in the middle of the day?”

“So what? Sometimes I forget to shut them off.” She flicked the kitchen light off. “I pay the PG&E. I keep the place neat and tidy. Are you going to complain?”

He glanced around the small living area. “The place is immaculate.”