Sweet in Love (7 page)

“Oh.” Brooke ran her finger along the rim of her coffee mug.

“Do you think Amandine would be happy if she learned that she was the reason you and I couldn’t be together?”

“Of course not.” Amandine was as sweet as the dessert she was named after.

“Then please, stop using her as an excuse. If you honestly think things are moving too fast or something isn’t right, by all means say so. But don’t say it’s because of Amandine or Gavin.”

Brooke stared at him. It was such a mature and logical argument, and effectively destroyed whatever objections she might have had because of their complicated relationships with the people around them. He actually made her sound immature and silly.

Pete got up and kissed her on the mouth, his lips soft. “Anyway, I gotta go. See you tonight.”

* * *

Damn
,
damn
,
damn
.

Pete tried to focus as he rode up the elevator, but it was tough. Brooke’s use of their relationships with Amandine and Gavin to push him away was incredibly annoying. He would have done anything for her, but he couldn’t just reincarnate himself as somebody else’s brother.

He walked into his office and opened the door to his small closet. In it were a couple of fresh suits, clean underwear and dress shirts in case he needed to pull an all-nighter. Every floor of the firm had a shower.

Should he have been more patient? Given Brooke more time?

Like eight years wasn’t enough?

Waiting might backfire. Her family was apparently trying to set her up with eligible men—unmarried doctors and lawyers from their church. He’d be damned if he let one of them snag Brooke when he’d set his sights on her first.

After changing, he caught up with the markets and decided on his trades for the morning. Then he leaned back in his chair and tried to recall every detail he could about Brooke. Amandine had always said Brooke loved her father, and she’d never do anything to let him down. A widower who’d raised two girls on his own must’ve made an impression. Pete hadn’t experienced anything similar. He loved Amandine, but he’d despised their father and still couldn’t understand why their mother had stayed with a loser who couldn’t even put a roof over their heads.

The easiest thing would be to get Brooke’s father’s blessings. Based on what he’d heard, Brooke had never taken any of her boyfriends to meet her family, no matter how much she’d liked the guy at the time.

There was only one reason why a woman would do that. And Pete had no intention of being a temporary fling.

* * *

Brooke looked through Amandine’s phone contacts. She was bound to have Pete’s number in there.

But there was nothing under P. Maybe filed with the last name? But there was nothing under M either.

Brooke sighed. There was a reason why she insisted on being the one to enter data into Amandine’s phones: Amandine didn’t care about logic. Finally Brooke found Pete’s number under B—for Brother.

Grumbling, Brooke sent the number to her phone. That taken care of, she put Amandine’s away.

“Hey,” Amandine said.

She was in the bedroom that was trying hard to become a nursery. The queen-size bed needed to be donated, and the new crib they’d ordered a week ago had to be brought in and assembled. The royal blue and gold wallpaper needed to go too. The baby probably wouldn’t care for a fleur-de-lis motif.

“This is such a mess,” Amandine said.

“It’s not a mess.” Brooke used her most soothing voice. Amandine was in the latter half of her second trimester, and often lamented the most inconsequential things. Thankfully, her pregnancy was coming along fine, with her doctor allowing more activities than had previously been discussed. “It’s just full of…stuff. Once we take it all out and redo everything, the place is going to look amazing. Besides the location’s perfect—right across from the master bedroom suite. Trust me, it’s fine.”

“Really?”

“Yes. What did Gavin say?”

“He said it was perfect too.”

“And?” Brooke knew there was more. She’d already heard the whole story a few weeks ago.

“He even agreed to buy a new house if I didn’t like this one because of the nursery.”

“And what did you tell him?”

“I told him that was crazy because I love this house. There’s no way I’m getting rid of this place.”

“Exactly. So relax. Have happy thoughts. Gavin loves you. He even cut back from work to spend more time with you. You’re living a fairytale.”

“You’re right. What am I doing, complaining about something this minor?”

Brooke smiled. “You’re being pregnant.” She pulled out a thick binder with some ideas that she’d worked on earlier in the morning. “Anyway, take a look through here and let me know if you see anything you like.”

“Wow, that was quick. Thanks,” Amandine said, flipping it open.

“Well, you know. I try to be efficient.” Brooke had been thinking of various design motifs and ideas for years and jotting them down, compiling scrapbooks that she kept under her bed. She still wasn’t sure why she’d done that when she’d never been certain she’d be able to become a designer. But she wasn’t about to complain about how useful it was that she had all those ideas and pictures and so on to pull design schemes from.

While Amandine looked through the binder, Brooke texted Pete.

We can’t meet tonight
, she started typing.
Busy
.

A few moments later, her phone buzzed.

You gotta be kidding me
.
There’s no way Amandine’s keeping you busy
.

Brooke narrowed her eyes.
I’m not just her assistant anymore
,
remember? I’m doing her nursery right now
,
and there’s lots of work to do
.

But not really enough to cancel. A small guilty knot started to form in her stomach. She was being a jerk. Pete had been straight up with her, not to mention nice as hell, and here she was acting like one of those guys who ran off as soon as he got to sleep with a girl.

She closed her eyes. Why couldn’t she just be slightly less mean and more caring?

Sighing, she erased the previous lines and started over:
If you really want to come
,
come on
.
But you might want to bring some work
. She stared at the screen, then added,
And food
.
Anything except Italian
.

She hit send…and hoped she’d made the right decision.

SINCE BROOKE HADN’T COMMITTED to moving in with him, Pete had apparently decided to take the matter into his own hands. The next few days turned into an interesting observation of watching a very determined “never take no for an answer” man slowly hijack her place.

They settled into a pattern. He’d come back from work, they’d eat—whether home-cooked or takeout—and work for an hour or so, then make love and fall asleep.

The third morning, she found a couple of fresh business outfits—of the male variety—in her closet.

Huh
. When had he put them there?

“I like that crimson dress,” he commented as he pulled a shirt off its hanger. “Hurry or you’re going to be late for work.”

“Wouldn’t have to hurry if you hadn’t commandeered the shower—with me in it,” she half-grumbled under her breath, though she couldn’t suppress a smile. Morning quickies were so worth it.

“At least you have an understanding boss.” He kissed her on the mouth while simultaneously stepping into his shoes and knotting his tie. “See you this evening. Gotta run or Gavin will have my head and a few other choice body parts on a platter.”

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” She gave his butt a squeeze and waved him out the door.

Pete was totally different from what she’d imagined. She’d always thought he would just cruise through life since he was so smart. Mr. Stanford and all. But he worked hard every day. She’d assumed he’d try to get her to have sex even when she needed to work, but he never did that. He respected the demands of her professional life even if they happened to be tasks related to decorating his nephew’s nursery. It was refreshing—most of her dates hadn’t thought her job meant anything—and it warmed her to know he valued her for something beyond the physical.

Later that evening, when he closed his laptop and pushed it to the side of the dining table, she leaned over and asked, “Are you really finished?”

“For today. There’ll be more tomorrow, of course.”

“You work a lot harder than I expected. I always thought you chose your job for money.”

“People burn out if they’re just in it for the money.” Pete munched on a leftover carrot stick. “I’m proud of what I do. It’s rewarding to help my clients.”

“You mean like Mark Pryce, who has millions of dollars in a trust?” she teased.

“Well, yeah, okay. But he’s not the only one. I have regular folks depending on me to help manage their retirement funds. And you know, that’s important. I don’t want them to have to scrimp during their golden years because I didn’t do my best.” Pete slathered the last bite of carrot with ranch dip. “How about you? You enjoying the interior designer work so far?”

“Yes, thankyouverymuch. It’s actually better than I imagined.” She searched for the right word. “Fulfilling.”

“If you still feel that way after you finish the nursery and the office, you should go for it. You know, as a full-time thing.”

“I don’t know. It’s not going to be easy in this economy.”

Pete blew air out dismissively. “Eh, the economy. Building a business is never easy.”

“But how am I going to get hired? Most places require you to have some kind of training, and my résumé is, like, blank when it comes to that.”

“Well, then start a company. Don’t wait for somebody’s go-ahead.”

“Where am I going to get a loan?”

“From a bank?”

She laughed. “They won’t give me a penny. I’m not hot like…Apple or something.”

“Apple wasn’t hot until it became Apple.”

“But—”

“Tell you what. I’ll do it.”

“Do what?”

“Fund your company.”

“Pete!”

He spread his hands. “What? I have the money. Why shouldn’t I?”

“I can’t take your money.”

“That’s good, because I’m not giving it to you. I’m making a
loan
, to the
company
you’re going to start. It’s a business decision.”

She rolled her eyes. “This isn’t funny. I don’t want to owe you like that.”

“Why not? Wouldn’t you help a friend if you could?”

“Yes, but this is different. Stop being obtuse.”

“Brooke, it’s not different. Look, I know it’s a risk to take on a loan and go for something uncertain when you have a secure job. But if it’s something you really care about, you have to put yourself out there a hundred percent. Heart and soul.” He looked at her across the dining table. “Unless, of course, you’re sure that you’ll never wonder what might have been if you’d been just a little bit braver.”

“
You’re
awfully sure, Mister Guy With A Secure Job,” she said, but Pete’s words had struck a chord. Wouldn’t she wonder for the rest of her life that she could’ve made her secret dream come true if she hadn’t been such a chicken?

But what about the way Pete thought of his father? She knew how much he despised his father for being a failure. It was easy for him to encourage her now; their relationship was new, and he wanted to win her over somehow. But things would change. He might not be so interested once he realized how similar her wanting to be an interior designer was to his father’s unfulfilled dreams. He was a man who hadn’t cared about anything except living his ambition, and his family had paid the price—from evictions and having to rely on charity from their snotty relatives to social ostracism.

Brooke wasn’t going to put anyone out on the street by trying to become an interior designer, but what would Pete think about her if for whatever reason she couldn’t make it work? Would he put her in the same category as his loser father?

She’d heard enough from Amandine to know this would be a deal breaker for Pete.

Brooke shook herself mentally. Why did she care about things that might not happen for years down the road? And this long-term thinking she kept having about Pete… It wasn’t like her. She should just enjoy the moment.

And I know a pretty good way to do that
. She reached across the table and wrapped his silk tie around her hand. He looked at her, his eyes changing. She got up, came over and straddled him in the chair, then kissed him deeply. He parted his lips and let her steal a taste of him, then pushed in with his tongue, aggressive and sure of himself.

She pressed herself against his body, pulling him until they were as close as they could be. His five o’clock shadow scraped her delicate skin, and she shivered at the rough, masculine texture.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. She broke the kiss and looked up.

“Ignore it,” he murmured, running his mouth along her jaw.

“But—”

“Probably some door-to-door sales guy snuck in.”

A female voice came from the hall. “Brooke? I know you’re in there.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “It’s my sister.”

She jumped off his lap and went to the door, finger-brushing her hair. Sandy wouldn’t miss much.

“Shouldn’t you have used the intercom first?” Brooke asked, opening the door.

“Can’t. It’s broken.” Sandy grinned shamelessly. “And hey, thanks for the warm welcome. Good to see you too.”

She took off her sneakers and marched inside. She wore a pale pink shirt with the flooring company logo and a pair of old blue jeans that were worn and ripped at the knees.

She stopped suddenly as her eyes zeroed in on Pete. “Oh. Hi.”

“Hi.”

“I didn’t know Brooke had company,” Sandy’s voice took on a honeyed melodious tone that made Brooke cringe.

“It’s Pete,” Brooke said briskly. “Pete, meet my sister, Sandy.”

He nodded. “We’ve met before.”

“We have?” Sandy looked at Pete up and down, probably taking in his features and comparing them to all of Brooke’s boyfriends she’d managed to meet, which was a total of maybe six. “Nooo, I don’t believe so. I would’ve remembered.”