The Best Man in Texas (5 page)

“Giff mentioned your traveling.” It was one of the reasons she’d never met Jake before this week. “Where do you go?”

“Anywhere. Everywhere. One of the things I discovered about myself in the army was that I love seeing new places. New places that aren’t in the Middle East,” he clarified as they rose to leave. “I went to Abbeville, Louisiana, for the cooking of a five-thousand-egg omelet.” Five
thousand
eggs? The mind boggled.

“I’ve gambled aboard Mississippi riverboat casinos, been climbing and rappelling in Denver. My latest trip was to New Mexico. I have some vacation time saved up for this summer and want to get to Hawaii. And in the fall, I’d like to take a quick trip up to New England. Even if it’s only for a day, I want to see the leaves.”

“Not much autumn color in Houston, is there?” she commiserated.

“I also like meeting new people,” he said, holding open the restaurant door for her. “And I don’t know that many women who can knowledgeably discuss Scandinavian rock bands
and
eat calzones bigger than their heads. You’re full of surprises, Brooke.”

“That’s ironic,” she said with a rueful smile over her shoulder. “Because I’m not a big fan of surprises.”

“That’s okay.” He winked at her. “I like them enough for both of us.”

Brooke had just stepped out of the shower Saturday morning when she heard her phone ring. “Hello?”

“Did you get my message last night?” Giff asked, his tone sheepish.

“I did.” When Jake had dropped her off after their late dinner, she’d found a lengthy apology on her answering machine. Giff had admitted that it had been calculated on his part, waiting until late in the day to ask her to go with Jake because he was afraid that if she had more notice, she might demur and invite someone like Kresley instead. But then he’d been swept up into meetings and hadn’t realized until later that night that he’d never given her a heads-up.

“So, did the two of you end up going to the concert together?”

“Yeah. And, I admit, we had fun.” She started to say that his friend was a heck of a dancer, but second-guessed herself at the last instant.

Giff sighed, clearly relieved. “Does that mean you’ll forgive me my isolated, never-to-be-repeated Machiavel
lian moment? I’m on the way back to Houston now and fully prepared to grovel in person.”

She laughed. “No groveling necessary. How about you just promise not to ambush me again?”

“Absolutely. I wouldn’t normally have done that, you know. I just— He’s a good guy. I wanted to give you a chance to see that side of him.”

“Well, mission accomplished. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have thirty minutes to get presentable for your mom. Which is going to be a stretch since I’m currently dripping wet and wearing a towel.”

“All right, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Brooke was looking forward to supper at Grace’s, which she predicted would be blissfully normal, entirely unlike the evening Giff had first met her parents a month ago. The Nichols had invited Meg and her then-boyfriend over for dinner and once Didi realized that her other daughter was also seeing someone, she’d insisted Brooke and Giff join them. Everett had tried to impress everyone with an experimental dish, but let his perfectionist temperament get in the way—declaring the meal too flawed to serve. So they’d had to wait an additional forty minutes for pizza to be delivered, during which time Meg’s boyfriend had insisted on performing for them. He’d juggled several of Didi’s household knickknacks, inadvertently breaking a trophy she’d prized from a long-ago dance competition. To be fair to the juggler, he’d had three drinks on an empty stomach while waiting for the promised food. Probably he was better at his job when sober.

I should have proposed to Giff myself after that night,
Brooke thought as she stepped out of her apartment and locked the front door. Anyone who’d been as patiently amused and good-natured about his three hours with the Nichols family was a keeper. But then, that was Giff. Mr. Supportive. She was secure in the knowledge that whatever decisions she made, Giff would back them. The closest they’d ever come to a disagreement was his siccing Jake on her without warning, but even that had turned out well.

En route to her appointment at the first bridal boutique, Brooke slipped in the earpiece for her phone and dialed Kresley’s number to give her an update.

“I may have spoken too soon about Giff’s friend.”

“The one who’s the devil?”

“Exactly.” Brooke flipped on her blinker and slid into the next lane. “I spent last night with him and—”

“What?”

“You know how Giff and I were going to the Red Jump Funk concert? He got tied up in Corpus and sent Jake in his stead. It was his guerrilla attempt to make us buddies.”

“Sounds like it worked to some degree.”

“Yeah. When he’s not accusing me of marrying Giff for his money, Jake is fun to be around. And there’s a lot more to him than I first realized.” She thought about what it must have been like to grow up with an alcoholic father and the kinds of things Jake might have seen in his time overseas. Yet he was still quick with a teasing smile and quips that made her laugh.

“I have to say, this restores my faith in Giff,” Kresley
said. “A great guy like him? It didn’t make sense that his best friend would be a jerk.”

After promising to e-mail snapshots of today’s best dresses from her cell phone, Brooke disconnected, but her friend’s words stuck with her.

Jake had definitely shown his gentlemanly side last night, but she still found aspects of his friendship with Giff puzzling. The business consultant who would be lost without his BlackBerry and the guy who was always disappearing on spontaneous road trips and declared structure cowardly? Maybe it was the “bromance” version of opposites attracting, people complementing each other’s strengths and weaknesses.

Of course, when it came to dating, opposites didn’t always attract. She and Giff were cut from the same cloth, but that just made it easier to lay the foundation for their marriage, knowing they wanted the same things out of life and wouldn’t be working toward conflicting goals. Brooke had once been dazzled by someone utterly unlike her, but had learned from that youthful folly.

Sustaining relationships was difficult enough—why set yourself up for failure by falling for someone who had a fundamentally different outlook on life?

“W
E MAY HAVE FOUND A WINNER
.” Grace beamed into the mirror, her eyes meeting Brooke’s in their reflection. “You look stunning, dear.”

“It’s the dress,” Brooke said. “This would make anyone look fabulous.”

Grace laughed. “Untrue. Not everyone could pull off
that strapless look. But never mind about my opinion. What do
you
think of it?”

It seemed perfect, neither too fussy nor too blah. The strapless white dress had some subtle pleating at the bodice that added a touch of elegance without being busy; the gown flowed into an A-line skirt that was full without being puffy. Brooke had tried on—and quickly ruled out—two dresses this morning that made her feel like Little Bo Peep at a debutante ball. But understated beading trailed down the front of this dress, toward the scalloped floor-length hem, catching the light.

“Would you mind taking a picture for me?” Brooke asked absently, still studying the dress.

“Oh, my.” The saleswoman, who’d disappeared up front to discuss flower girl dresses with another customer, had just returned. She smiled approvingly at the picture Brooke made atop the raised dais. “It looks tailor-made for you. Which is lucky since we don’t have many size options. That dress has been discontinued, so I can give it to you for 40 percent off.”

“Forty percent?” Brooke raised her eyebrows. She’d be a fool not to take it. She’d already thought it was reasonably priced, comparatively speaking.

“Talk about luck!” Grace said delightedly.

“Yeah. I was expecting this to take longer.” Granted, they’d been at it all day and her feet were getting sore, but it did seem as though she’d stumbled into just the right dress pretty easily. Given the way all the details were falling into place with her and Giff’s engagement, it was obviously meant to be.

Grace laughed. “It’s a good thing it
didn’t
take longer.
Now that you and Giff have set the date for mid-July, you don’t have much time.”

“July?” the sales lady echoed. “Not a second to lose, then!”

Still… “If I want to take a couple of days to think about it, maybe bring back my mom and sister for their input, can you put this on hold?” Brooke asked.

“We’ll hold it for forty-eight hours, with a twenty-five dollar deposit.”

The bell over the door rang, and the woman excused herself again. Grace snapped a couple of shots from different angles on Brooke’s cell phone, so that she could send the images to Kresley. Afterward, Brooke meant to go put on her own clothes but instead found herself simply staring into the mirror.

“Brooke? Is everything all right, dear?”

“Yeah, I…” She trailed off because what she was thinking made no sense. If she said it aloud, Grace would need an explanation Brooke didn’t think she could articulate.
I cannot picture myself in this dress.
Which, considering she was staring at that exact reflection, made her a candidate for the loony bin.

Well, the Nichols genes were bound to kick in sooner or later.

The dress was undoubtedly lovely. It was elegant enough for a bride marrying into the Baker family, casual enough for a small wedding and better suited to the summer heat than gowns with heavier beading or sleeves. But when she tried to envision it—her on her wedding day, wearing this, walking toward Giff and her future… Her mind remained frustratingly blank.

“Thanks for taking the pictures,” Brooke finally said, “I should go get changed.”

Taking a closer look at herself in the dressing room mirror, Brooke couldn’t help but notice the circles under her eyes. Maybe that’s why her thoughts weren’t making much sense today—she’d been restless last night, tossing and turning, with songs from the concert stuck in her head. And Jake McBride in her thoughts.

Guilt immediately slammed into her conscience with the same tingling pain of an elbow against a wall. She tried to shake off the sensation. It wasn’t that her thoughts had been disloyal to Giff; she hadn’t been fantasizing about what it would be like to be with a man like Jake. She’d simply found herself recounting parts of their conversation and wondering about other aspects of his life. Taking an interest in a new acquaintance was not disloyal.

So why did she find it difficult to meet Grace’s eyes when she stepped out of the fitting room?

“I don’t know about you,” Grace said, “but I could use a pick-me-up. I noticed a bakery on the corner when we came in. Want to go for a brownie or some cookies?”

“I’m not hungry, but I could use a hit of caffeine.”

Inside, the little bakery was crowded to capacity. Grace and Brooke found seats out on the patio, beneath the shade of an oversize umbrella.

“You’re sure you don’t want half?” Grace asked, gesturing to her cheesecake brownie.

“Can’t. I’m doing penance for a two-ton calzone from last night. But I promise to arrive for supper tomorrow
ready to eat,” Brooke said with a smile. “Giff tells me you’re quite a cook.”

Grace’s already pleasant expression warmed even further at the mention of her only child. “He’s such a good boy. A good man now. I’m ridiculously proud of him, you know.”

“You have every right to be.”

“And I’ll be equally proud to call you my daughter-in-law. Brooke, there’s something I want to do for you and Giff. Let me throw you an engagement party!”

“That’s so generous. You’re already letting us use the house for the wedding!” Brooke knew that Giff had approached his mom with the idea before heading to Corpus, wanting to give her a couple of days to think it over before she saw them tomorrow. But she’d agreed instantly, seeming overjoyed by the idea.

“I was touched when Giff said he wanted to be married there.” Grace’s blue eyes watered. “Some of my friends suggested that I sell the house when Giff’s father died. With Giff already in college, it was more room than I really needed, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. And now, he’ll have his wedding there! And maybe, not too many years from now, there will be grandkids running around the yard and helping me bake Christmas cookies.”

Brooke’s own eyes turned misty. The vision Grace’s words painted was exactly what Brooke herself had always wanted.

Grace sniffed. “Look at me! I swear, I never used to cry. And now I’ve turned into one of those women who can’t get through a two-minute movie trailer without
tearing up. No more maudlin talk! Back to the party—I know the two of you want an intimate wedding ceremony, but a big congratulatory bash would give other people a chance to offer their happy wishes as well.”

Just how big was Grace thinking? “I don’t want to put you to a lot of trouble,” Brooke said slowly.

The older woman waved a hand. “I haven’t had enough fun in the past two years, and I’m determined to make up for it. A joyous shindig is exactly what I need. And it’s an opportunity to finally meet your family, in a fun setting.”

There was something to be said for easing Grace slowly into a relationship with the Nichols, amid the buffer of other partygoers.

Brooke smiled gamely. “You’ve talked me into it.”

Leaning back in her office chair, Brooke glared at the phone that had just started ringing. Again.

Between details she’d been writing up for other people’s weddings, calls she’d been making about her
own
wedding and talking to Grace about this Friday’s party, Brooke felt as if she hadn’t been off the phone for more than five minutes in the past two and a half weeks. Some days she spent more time talking to Grace than Giff, although that didn’t really bother her. After all, he was working harder than ever now to take a couple of weeks off after the wedding.
We have the next sixty or so years to talk—might as well pace ourselves.

With a resigned sigh, she reached for the receiver. “The
Katy Chronicle
, Brooke Nichols speaking.”

“Hey, sis. Is this a bad time?”

Depends,
Brooke thought wearily, wondering if there was some new drama going on in Meg’s life. Everything had seemed copacetic when they’d met to pick up Brooke’s wedding dress, but that had been over a week ago and it didn’t take Meg long to make drastic life changes. “I have a few minutes.”

“I thought about not calling because you know how they are—it will probably blow over in the next forty-eight hours—but just in case, I decided it was only fair to warn you. I mean, this weekend is your engagement party, and I know you hate being caught off guard.”

Brooke’s stomach sank. “I’m going out on a limb here. Does your call have something to do with Mom and Dad?”

“She phoned me twenty minutes ago to ask if she can stay with me for a few nights. I told her sure, I mean what do I care, I work most nights anyway, but—”

“Megan.” Brooke let just enough impatience seep into her voice to get her sister’s attention.

“Right. Apparently they had a fight over an impulse buy.”

Brooke groaned. Her mother, who had grown up in a household of seven children, had regaled them with stories of deprivation and complaints about how she’d always had to make do with hand-me-downs. Brooke had barely met her aunts and uncles, as Didi wasn’t one for keeping in touch. Didi had taken off for Vegas as soon as she was legally old enough, hoping to follow her exotic dream of becoming a showgirl— She’d been told that she possessed raw talent as a dancer but was far too short. Though she’d been forced to abandon that aspiration, she’d doggedly clung to her resolve never to deny herself as an adult the way she’d been “deprived” as a child. Unfortunately her compulsive shopping issues did not mesh well with her husband’s tendency to be between jobs.

This is all I need.
Brooke tried to avoid making
situations all about her—that trait frequently got Didi and Meg into trouble—but the day after tomorrow, her parents were due to meet Grace for the first time. Brooke would prefer that the Nichols be on their best behavior. Luckily Meg had been able to get the night off for the party, so maybe she could help run interference—assuming she didn’t get distracted by handsome partygoers.

“So Mom’s coming to stay with you tonight?” Brooke clarified.

“Yeah, but like I said, I’ll be at work.”

“Do you mind if I stop by and talk with her?” Was there a diplomatic way to ask Didi to quit being a diva and avoid screwing up her youngest child’s engagement party?
Probably not.

“Be my guest.” Meg’s tone was tinged with apology. “I’d do it myself if I thought I could make her see reason, but that’s always been more your specialty than mine. I’m sorry, Brooke. Just because you couldn’t pay
me
to marry a businessman like Giff—no offense—doesn’t mean I would try to sabotage any of this for you. I want your party and your wedding to be perfect.”

Brooke was genuinely touched. “Thanks, sis. I’m sure that between the two of us we can get our parents to behave. And like you said, half of their fights blow over as quickly as they start.” Which didn’t stop Brooke from writing her parents’ names on the notepad she kept handy for phone interviews, followed by a large
argh!
in Sharpie marker underneath.

No sooner had she hung up the phone than Kresley stuck her head through the doorway of the office.

“Hey.” Brooke smiled. “Is there any chance your parents would want to adopt another adult daughter? They’ve always seemed like such lovely, well-adjusted people.”
At least my future mother-in-law is organized and emotionally stable.

Kresley, her expression concerned, didn’t bother to address the facetious question. “Isn’t Jake McBride the name of Giff’s friend, the one you’ve been telling me about?”

“Yeah. Why?” Brooke studied her friend’s troubled gaze and thought about the 911 scanner they kept in the newsroom. “Oh, God, was he in some kind of accident? Did—”

“No, he came across an accident this afternoon and jumped in to help. A little girl walking home from school had just been hit by an SUV.” Kresley stopped, taking a shuddery breath. “Sorry. Any time a child is hurt is horrible, of course, but ever since I got pregnant, these things…”

“Is the girl okay?” Brooke asked hesitantly.

“She’s in critical condition, but they credit Jake with keeping her alive until the ambulance arrived. We’re running a story tomorrow, and I hope to God we have good news to report on her recovery. Apparently he was doing some kind of career day visit or something at the school and was coming from that direction, just like she was. She was unconscious and not breathing when he happened on the scene. He inserted an artificial airway, then helped the EMS team stabilize her on a spinal board.”

Brooke’s heart squeezed. Suddenly her ongoing
difficulty with mercurial parents seemed like the most trivial problem in the world. She couldn’t imagine what that poor girl’s family was going through.

“Anyway.” Kresley leaned against the doorjamb, trying to steady herself with another deep breath. “I thought I recognized Jake’s name. From what the ambulance driver said, Jake was the hero of the day.”

“Then it’s a blessing he was in the area.” What kind of resilience did it take to weather a job where witnessing other people’s trauma was the norm? Brooke suspected that the lives one was able to save made it worth it, but still…

As she started her short drive home, passing one of Katy’s multiple parks where softball teams were practicing despite the heat, she found herself thinking about the emotional toll a job like Jake’s could take on a person. Especially a person who seemed, in many ways, to be a loner. Whom did Jake confide in about difficult days and near misses? He’d said that he wasn’t close to his family and didn’t have a girlfriend.

On impulse, she dialed Giff’s office, prepared to suggest he give Jake a call in case the other man needed a friendly ear. But about the time Brooke reached his voice mail, she remembered that he had dinner with a client tonight. He’d originally asked her if she would go with him, but when the client’s wife was unable to make it, Giff had absolved Brooke of the obligation, admitting that conversation was bound to be pretty dry.

She’d passed by the fire station before and, relying on memory, found her way there with just two wrong turns. Would Jake even be there?
Only one way to find
out.
She parked in a spot marked for guests and hurried out of her car before she changed her mind.

Would he think she was being intrusive or overreacting? After all, this
was
his job. It was probable that he’d seen tragedies in the military, too. But then Brooke had a horrible vision of what it must have been like to see a child… Her mind skittered away from the image immediately, and she squared her shoulders. Whatever he thought, she knew she was right to be here.
He’s a friend.
Or at the very least, a friend-in-law.

She walked inside a cramped front office where an auburn-haired woman in uniform was talking into a headset. The redhead smiled in Brooke’s direction and held up her index finger.

A moment later, the woman hit a button on the telephone system in front of her and gave Brooke her full attention. “What can I do for you today?”

“I was looking for Jake McBride. I’m a friend.” She held up her left hand so that her engagement ring was visible. “Giff Baker’s fiancée.”

The woman brightened at the mention of Giff’s name. “That sweetheart wrote us a huge check when we were raising money for the children’s burn unit last month. You tell him how much we all appreciate it. I think Jake’s in the common room with some of the other guys. Just follow the blue-carpeted hallway to the first room on your left.”

“Thanks.” As she walked down the hall, Brooke heard male voices and tried to identify one of them as Jake’s. None of them sounded familiar, though.

“Hello?” She peered into what looked like a living
room decorated in Early American Frat Boy. The couch was lumpy and faded to a dingy, indistinct color. There were two mismatched chairs and a coffee table with noticeable scuffs and water ring stains on its wooden surface. She suspected the entire furniture budget had gone toward the big-screen TV three men were watching.

At the sound of her voice, they all swiveled in her direction. The youngest man, with eyes nearly as dark a blue as his uniform, rose from his chair with a rakish grin. “Please make my day and tell me you’re here to learn CPR.”

“Hoskins, you dumbass, that’s no way to talk to a lady.” A fit-looking bald man threw an orange pillow at Hoskins, then glanced at Brooke sheepishly. “Sorry about the
dumbass,
ma’am.”

She chuckled. “It’s all right. But maybe one of you can help me? I was looking for Jake McBride.”

All three men sobered. Hoskins grin faded, and he sounded far older when he answered, “He’s in the back, ma’am, but he may not be up for visitors. I can check for you.”

“I’d appreciate that. Can you let him know Brooke is here? Brooke Nichols.”

“Will do.”

The other two men exchanged a look. She couldn’t tell exactly what they were thinking, but if she had to guess, she’d say they were worried about Jake. She’d overlooked these men earlier, she realized. She’d been concerned about Jake being a loner, but she hadn’t taken into account that his fellow emergency workers had his back, probably a similar dynamic to what he’d
experienced in the military. Had that also been part of the draw, an instant and loyal family of sorts for a boy who’d grown up with a rough home life?

“Brooke?”

She turned and nearly smacked into Jake, who was behind her. With Hoskins at his side, it was becoming very crowded in the small corridor. Jake wore the same dark uniform pants as the other men, but with only a white T-shirt. His hair was damp, and he smelled like soap.

“Why don’t you come with me to the kitchen?” Jake invited. “We can talk there.”

She nodded, sidestepped Hoskins with a smile, then followed Jake into the kitchen. There wasn’t a stove, but there was an avocado-colored refrigerator and a microwave, as well as two different coffeemakers. He made a beeline for one of them.

“Can I get you some coffee?” he asked.

“Sure.” She reached for the plastic container on the counter, helping herself to a packet of creamer and way too many sugars. She liked her coffee embarrassingly sweet.

His eyes met hers over the cup he handed her, his shadowed and haggard gaze far removed from the guy who’d laughingly teased her about eating a calzone the size of her head. “What brings you here?” He sounded bewildered, but not unhappy to see her.

“I heard what happened,” she said simply. “Through the newspaper office.”

“So you’re here on business?”

“No, nothing like that! I was…worried about you.”

His face went completely blank, then a slow, lopsided smile emerged. “Worried about me, huh?” His soft laugh made her feel a bit inane, the way she had in the parking lot when she’d wondered if this was a good idea.

“That’s funny?” she asked, more defensively than she’d intended.

“No, not at all.” His quick denial soothed her misgivings. “It’s a novelty. I’m…”

“More used to taking care of others than having them worry about you?” She knew from experience how protective he could be of Giff.

He sat at one of the two card tables in the unadorned room and gestured for her to join him. “Some of my earliest memories are of worrying about my dad, who’d been shot. Then worrying about my mom because she cried a lot. And worrying in general because Dad yelled so much. Wasn’t much I could for either of them.”

“And now you’re in a profession where you spend all your time trying to save people.” Didn’t take Freud to figure out how
that
had happened. Of course, if that little girl today pulled through, her parents were going to be forever grateful that Jake McBride had happened along.

“It’s not like we’re jumping into burning buildings on an hourly basis,” he said. “Most of what we do is community service stuff, like teaching first-aid certification and giving fire prevention and safety lectures to local…schools.” His voice broke just a fraction, and she ached for him.

He stared past Brooke, unseeing, no doubt reliving
the accident scene. “She looked so small. And broken. She was discolored, not breathing. I’ve called over to the hospital. They’re having to delay several of the surgeries she needs because they’re not sure she can, that she’s strong enough. It’s a catch twenty-two. Her body doesn’t have a shot at healing without the operations, but they can’t operate until she’s healed some.”

Brooke bit her lip, wondering if there was anything she could say right now that wasn’t a trite platitude. Finally she settled on, “She’s alive. And she has a chance.”
Thanks to you.

His fingers clenched on his coffee cup, but he nodded in agreement. “I’ll check with the hospital again tomorrow.”

“You’re working tonight?” Maybe that would be better than his being home alone.

Another nod. “My shift doesn’t end until tomorrow night. But I’ll be at your and Giff’s party. I switched a shift with someone else.”

She’d completely forgotten about the party. And her parents’ latest fight and everything else but checking on Jake. Even though there wasn’t a damn thing she could actually do to help him or that girl.
I should go.
But she wouldn’t be stopping by Meg’s as planned. In light of other people’s real tragedies, she didn’t have the patience to listen to her mom sniff about how Everett tried to dictate her spending habits while
he
thought nothing of dropping a hundred dollars on a risotto pan or owning two different dessert torches even though he’d never once made the promised crème brûlée.