Wet (Elemental 1) (12 page)

She delivered the drinks to the college girls she didn’t
know, took their orders, and then moved two tables over to greet the Hawke
brothers. “Good evening, boys.” She smiled as she came to a stop at their
table. They had claimed a center table this time, and since each brother had
his own side, she came to a stop at the corner between Blake and Logan.

“Hey,” the brothers chorused as they looked over at her.
Logan, Dean, and Nate all offered her honest, friendly smiles of varying sizes,
but Blake’s smile was different. Warmer.

Wishing she had time for small talk, Brooke asked, “What
brings you all my way tonight?”

Dean smirked, his gaze switching to Blake for a moment
before returning to her as he said, “It seemed like the place to be.”

Blake rolled his eyes before looking up at Brooke and
asking, “How’s the new window?”

Brooke’s smile was easy and genuine as she replied, “Fits
like a glove.” Her attention shifted to Logan. “Thanks again.”

Logan shrugged. “No problem.”

“Well,” Brooke began as she flipped to a new page on her
notepad, “I have an order to run back, so how ‘bout I pick up your drinks along
the way?”

The brothers easily complied, and in no time Brooke had
slipped into the kitchen. She was in the process of putting up the order when,
from several feet behind her, a sudden round of heavy cursing filled the air.
It was followed almost immediately by the unmistakable sound of food hitting
the trash.

Concerned, Brooke turned and moved up to the half-wall that
separated her from the actual cooking area. Her eyes immediately landed on the
diner’s head chef, Ed, as he moved toward the large sink and tossed in a dirty
knife. He was still muttering curses as he turned back toward his station and
therefore her.

“Everything okay, Ed?” Brooke asked gently. For as long as
she’d been working there, she had never heard him talk like that. And though
she wouldn’t claim to know him overly well, she was pretty sure she knew him
well enough to tell that this was unusual behavior.

Ed paused mid-step, and his eyes snapped up to hers. He clamped
his mouth shut and a flicker of embarrassment shone in his faded brown eyes
before he finally sighed and gave a half-shake of his head. “Just having one of
those days is all,” he said.

As Ed stepped up properly to his station and began working
on something, Brooke asked, “Is there anything I can do?”

“Nah,” he replied with another head-shake, this time
keeping his eyes on his work. “I just got a little distracted in my head and
put the wrong ingredients in. But I
gotta
hurry to
get it done now.”

“All right, then,” Brooke said, always one to take a hint.
She stepped back from the divider. “I hope your night gets better.”

“Thanks, Brooke,” Ed called without lifting his head.

Brooke said nothing more as she stepped from the kitchen.
She could tell he was still upset about whatever it was that was bothering him,
but there really wasn’t anything she could do to help.
We all have those days,
she reflected as she moved to the drink
station.

Georgia was suddenly behind her, a grin in her voice as she
said, “I notice your favorite customers are back.”

Barely resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Brooke said,
“Does this mean you’re closing tonight?”

“Yep,” Georgia replied. “But, hey, better tonight than this
time next week.”

Brooke let out a small laugh, setting the last glass on her
tray, and turned as she said, “I hear you.” She paused and raked her eyes over
her friend. “I thought you’d gone blonde for the month?”

Georgia lifted one perfectly manicured hand and tangled it
in a loose strand of her red hair. “I thought so, too. But I decided I missed
the red. It gives a little color to this place, you know?”

“That it does,” Brooke agreed as she carefully maneuvered
around her.

“Have fun!” Georgia called after her as Brooke moved toward
the dining area.

Brooke ignored her and made her way easily back toward
Blake’s table. When she reached her destination, she noticed the atmosphere was
entirely different than it had been when she’d left. A different type of
concern settling over her, she asked quietly, “Something wrong?”

Chapter Twelve

Nate was rubbing his forehead as if he had a headache, eyes
closed and one fist clenched on the table. Dean had pushed back in his chair,
arms crossed, glaring a hole through the table in front of him. Logan had one
elbow on the table, mouth a thin line, with both fists clenched. He flicked his
gaze up to her when she spoke, acknowledging her words, but made no effort to
speak.

Blake sighed in frustration, moving his arms as Brooke set
down his drink. “Not exactly.”

Dean shot forward in his seat, but he managed to keep his
voice low as he hissed, “How can you say that? What’s not wrong about this?”

Brooke’s attention had shifted to Dean when he’d spoken,
but she was feeling incredibly confused. As she continued setting down their
drinks, she asked, “Why do I feel like I’m missing something?”

Again it was Blake who answered her question. “Angela’s
decided to tell her boyfriend about everything. I was there when she made the
decision, so I got to tell them.”

She straightened as he spoke. “Um, maybe I’m still missing
something, but … why is that such a bad thing?”

“We don’t even know if he can keep a secret,” Nate pointed
out.

“More than that,” Dean insisted lowly. “It’s not like he’s
gonna
stick around forever. He’s not right for her, but she
won’t see it, and lord only knows how he’ll treat her after this!”

Meeting his brother’s angry gaze, Blake said, “He’s never
done anything to hurt her, Dean. We have to give him the benefit of the doubt.”

Dean leaned back in his chair once again. “I can’t believe
you’re okay with this.”

Brooke tried not to smile as Blake heaved a sigh and opted
not to respond to his brother’s statement.
It’s
amazing that girl even has a boyfriend,
she reflected as her eyes moved
around the table once more. It was obvious to her they disliked Angela’s
boyfriend for one simple reason: she was their little sister, and more than
likely no man would be good enough.

Still, she felt the overwhelming urge to diffuse the
situation, so she said, “I wouldn’t worry if I were you. I’m sure it’ll all
work out just fine.”

A long stretch of contemplative silence followed her
declaration before Blake lifted his gaze back to hers and smiled faintly.

****

It was the last day of school before Spring Break—for
Brooke at least—and she smiled to herself as she stepped into the parking lot
after class. She had nothing specific to be happy about, but the weather was
nice, and she didn’t have to work for a few hours still. In that moment, it was
enough. She knew if she actually got to thinking about the workload she had
ahead of her, she might rethink her good mood, but she had the time to put off
those depressing thoughts for a couple of days.

Her car was in sight when someone called out to her. The voice
was male, and faintly familiar, but not one she could place off the top of her
head. Still, she stopped walking and turned slightly to the side, looking for
the man in question. And then she saw him, jogging toward her with an easy grin
on his lips.

“Hey, Josh,” Brooke said when he was standing before her.
Josh was in her last class of the day, and the two of them had been paired
together for an assignment that had been due that afternoon. They had shared
other classes together sporadically over the past couple of semesters, but
rarely talked.

Josh’s grin broadened slightly. “Hey. I’m glad I caught up
with you.” He paused to take a breath and lifted one hand, gesturing vaguely as
he spoke. “Me and some friends are
gonna
grab a
couple drinks tomorrow at that bar downtown, and I was wondering if you wanted
to come with?”

For a moment, Brooke found herself speechless.
Well … I didn’t see that coming
. “I’m
sorry, Josh, but, uh, I’m meeting my boyfriend after work tomorrow. You’ll have
to go with someone else.” Okay, so they didn’t actually have plans, and she had
no idea if Blake thought of them in boyfriend/girlfriend terms, but it was a
good excuse. That was what mattered.

Josh’s grin faltered a bit, though it didn’t outright
disappear. “Well, damn. Maybe we could hook up when you’re not working
sometime? We could grab burgers or something if you’d rather.”

Brooke smiled politely even as she shifted her weight,
preparing to take a step backwards. This guy didn’t know how to take a hint,
apparently. “The truth is, Josh, I’m just not interested.”
Sometimes you have to say it like it is.
Still, she hoped it hadn’t
come off too harsh. She was going to have to see him at least twice a week for
almost two more months.

Grin remaining strong this time, Josh shrugged and said,
“Well, let me know if you change your mind.” He turned to walk away, pausing to
lift one hand in a small wave. “See you around.”

Brooke held her ground, and her tongue, until he had walked
past another row of cars. Then she sighed and shook her head even as she turned
to resume her walk.
Some guys…
But
she stopped after taking only two steps as her eyes landed on the male figure
leaning casually against her Civic.

“Hey,” Blake called without removing his hands from his
pockets. And dang did he look good like that.

Her lips twitched, and Brooke quickly crossed the final row
of cars until she was standing before him. “Hey,” she said. “How long have you
been standing here?”

He shrugged. “Not too long. I’d have said something, but I
didn’t want to interrupt.”

Brooke groaned. “You saw that?”

His grin was apparent in his voice as he replied, “Yep.
Heard it, too. Was I not supposed to?”

Brooke rolled her eyes at him. “Yeah, it was a hugely
private conversation. I can’t believe you eavesdropped.”

Blake chuckled and pushed off of her car. “Now, correct me
if I’m wrong, but we hadn’t gotten around to making plans for tomorrow night
yet, had we?”

Brooke’s own lips curved into a mischievous grin as she
said, “You’re not wrong. But Josh didn’t know that. I was hoping it’d be an
easier out.”

“
Gotcha
.” Blake’s eyes danced to
match his grin. “Well, don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.” He even threw
in a wink for good measure.

Laughing, Brooke asked, “What happened to your last class?”

“He let us out early for good behavior,” Blake replied with
an almost-straight face.

Brooke let out a brief laugh. “How lucky!”

“I thought so.”

As Brooke dug out her keys, she asked, “Hey, how did the
boyfriend thing go?” She was suddenly incredibly self-conscious using that word
directly toward him after what he’d overheard.
What he overheard and didn’t correct … or comment on at all.
She
didn’t know what to make of that.

His grin faded, and he sighed almost inaudibly. “Don’t know
yet. I imagine I’ll find out this afternoon.”

“Ah,” Brooke replied. “Sorry, I know it’s not my business.
I was just curious.”

Blake slipped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her
into his side. “No apologies necessary. You are my girlfriend, after all.”

Brooke’s heart tripped in her chest, and her lips lifted in
an automatic smile. She nearly forgot she was probably expected to comment.
“True,” she finally offered, still smiling.

Blake leaned around and pressed his lips briefly over hers
before releasing her altogether. As he stepped back enough to let her access
her car, he said, “Well, I’ll let you go. Catch up with you later?”

“Definitely,” Brooke replied without hesitation as she
pulled open her door and tossed her bag inside. Pausing with one hand on top of
the door, she looked back over at him and said, “At the very least, we should
do dinner tomorrow night.”

“Sounds like a date,” Blake replied, his lips twitching
again.

Brooke smiled silently at him before ducking into her car and
pulling the door shut.

****

“You’re right,” Brooke declared Friday night as they
settled together on his couch. He had the arm of the sofa at his other side,
and his legs were extended, feet under the edge of his coffee table. Brooke was
curled up beside him, head on his shoulder, one hand playing with his shirt.
She was comfortable. “Dinner in was a good idea.”

When she’d arrived, his house was already filling with the
mouthwatering scent of something potentially delicious coming from Blake’s
kitchen, and he’d declared he felt it was a good night to stay in. She hadn’t
needed a whole lot of convincing. Time alone with Blake was exactly what she
wanted.

Blake chuckled and tightened his arm around her waist.
“Glad you agree.”

“It was hard not to with the beautiful smells coming from
your kitchen,” Brooke admitted with a laugh. She leaned up and teased his cheek
with a kiss. His skin was warm beneath her lips, rousing fond memories of their
previous intimacy. “What are we having for dinner, anyway?”

“Ravioli. It’s a recipe I had to pilfer from my parents,
but it’s worth it.”

“Well, it certainly
smells
delicious,” Brooke declared with a grin. “And I find it incredibly sexy that
you cook voluntarily.” Then again, she found
him
incredibly sexy.

Blake rumbled and pressed his lips to the crown of her
head. “It does smell delicious,” he agreed, voice a little thicker than before.
“I should go check on it, actually, but I’m pretty sure it’s about ready.”

“Wow,” Brooke teased, refusing to acknowledge the flicker
of disappointment at their loss of contact as she allowed him to find his feet.
“You can time things properly, too? I don’t think I knew men with that talent
still existed.”

Blake just laughed, tossed her a wink, and headed for the
kitchen.

Brooke eased to her feet as well after several seconds,
trailing behind him into the kitchen to watch. It was a strange sight to see
her man moving around so confidently in the kitchen, clearly knowing what he
was doing and being comfortable doing it. Certainly none of her previous
boyfriends had been big into cooking.
At
least not anything more complicated than hot dogs,
she reflected with a
faint grin. This was a change she could get used to.

And then Blake stepped back. Hands on his hips, he uttered
the words she most wanted to hear. “Dinner’s ready.”

Blake refused to allow her to help set the table and to
serve. So she watched with a permanent grin on her lips, a hungry rumble in her
stomach, and a trickle of warmth between her legs as Blake strode into the
dining room. He had a steaming serving bowl in his pot-holder-protected hands.
The sight was picture-worthy, and Brooke sincerely lamented having left her
phone in her purse on the couch in the living room.

He set the bowl on a deliberately placed table protector,
next to a waiting serving spoon, and Brooke couldn’t help but lean forward to
get a look. Blake chuckled at her before turning to head back into his kitchen,
pot holders in one hand. Brooke’s gaze locked onto the steaming food and she
took a deep breath. The large raviolis were covered in a thick marinara sauce.
She could only barely make out the rectangular outlines of the ravioli beneath
the sauce, but they were quite a bit larger than the type she bought at the
grocery store. The sauce was the perfect shade of red, with visible flecks of
green from whatever spices he’d used, as well as discernable chunks of tomato.
And whatever those spices were was undoubtedly what had her stomach practically
pleading with her to dig in already.

Blake returned with a large bowl of salad in his hands. Two
types of dressing were tucked beneath one arm, and two bottles of iced tea were
in the crook of the other. He set everything down, not claiming his own seat
until after he’d filled both their plates. And then dinner was on.

They kept the conversation light as they ate, and after
Brooke finally bit into her perfectly cooled ravioli she said, “You know, if Ed
ever quits, you could be a shoo-in for Head Chef at the diner.”

Blake laughed and shook his head. “Oh, no. I don’t think I
could trade part-time at the beach for full-time in a kitchen.” Flashing her a
grin, he added, “But I’m glad you like it.”

“How could I not? This ravioli is
delicious
,” she replied with a grin of her own.
Almost as delicious as that smile.

“The next time I talk to my grandmother, I’ll be sure to
thank her for sharing.”

“I thought you said you got the recipe from your parents?”
Brooke asked after she swallowed another bite.

“I did,” he said. “But my father got it from my
grandmother, who got it from … I think it was my great-grandmother?”

Brooke scooped up a large, sauce-covered bite of her
ravioli and held it up as she said, “It’s like we’re eating a family heirloom.”
She winked and popped the forkful into her mouth. In all honesty, she hadn’t
known ravioli and marinara sauce could taste so amazing. Even the sausage
inside the ravioli, which was mixed with cheese, had awesome flavor.

Dinner passed easily, and once again Brooke found herself
relegated to the sidelines during cleanup. And as she watched, she found
herself suddenly envious. Doing the dishes seemed to go a lot faster when you
could control the water the way Blake did. He just wiggled his wrist a few
times in a circle, and everything was rinsed and scrubbed at once.

As Blake slipped the final dish into the dishwasher, Brooke
couldn’t help but ask, “You actually use that thing?” It was a stupid question,
and she knew it as soon as she had thought it.
Of course he uses a dishwasher. His power is water, not
soapy
water.

A single flick of his wrists was all it took for Blake’s
hands to dry, and he shut the dishwasher with a chuckle. “Of course I do.”

“Right.” Brooke felt like a moron. By then he was facing
her, and her self-conscious laughter faded away as she said, “Thank you for
dinner. It was really good.” She couldn’t wait for dessert.