Not His Type (26 page)

“Ready?” Travis
asked as Brooke opened the door.  His mood seemed to have improved and he
smiled down at her.  “More new clothes?”

“Jazz made me go
shopping with her last weekend,” Brooke admitted, blushing.  “She helped me
pick out some things.”

“I’m glad she
did,” he said, his voice low as he offered his arm.  “You look good, Brooke. 
Really good.”

When they
reached the downtown area, Travis pulled into a parking lot.  He paid the
attendant and parked his Hummer.  Once again, he offered his arm to Brooke and
they walked with the other pedestrians toward the huge Christmas tree.  Travis
put his other hand over Brooke’s and smiled down at her.

“I was a little
abrupt when you came to my house earlier, Cupcake,” he said.  “I’m sorry.”

“Is everything
okay?” Brooke asked uncertainly.

Travis grinned
sheepishly and said, “Maybe I was a little jealous that I wasn’t the one to
send you those roses.”

Brooke blinked
at him.  She had no idea how to respond.  After a moment, she took a deep
breath and was about to tell him the truth about Rafa de la Cruz.  Before she
could say a word, though, he was pulling her along through the crowd, jockeying
for position toward the front so Brooke could see.

The tree
lighting was supposed to occur at eight o’clock; in the meantime, vendors sold
coffee, cappuccino and cocoa.  Travis bought each of them a cappuccino and
watched as Brooke took a sip; he nearly groaned aloud when she licked the foam
from her upper lip.  Unaware of his dilemma, Brooke smiled up at Travis, her
violet eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Will they do it
soon?” she asked, bouncing on her toes.

“Yes, calm
down!” Travis laughed.  “You’ve really never been to a tree lighting ceremony? 
Ever?”

“Never!” Brooke
answered.  Even her memories couldn’t dampen her excitement as she explained. 
“Mom was always too busy with work or her boyfriends.  With Gramps, he tried,
but there was just never much money left for things like this, you know?”  Her
eyes bounced from Travis to the huge tree and back again.  “Is it – I mean will
there be a lot of lights?”

“Yes,
Bunny-girl, lots of lights!”  Travis laughed again, shaking his head.  He
snaked an arm around Brooke’s waist and pulled her against his side.  She
hesitated just a moment before sliding her own arm around Travis as well.  She
leaned her head against his shoulder, smiling up at him.

“I can’t wait!”
she said, giggling like a child.  “I’m so excited I –“

“Brooke,” Travis
interrupted suddenly, his voice serious.  “Don’t look now, but isn’t that your
date from last night?”

Brooke’s gaze
swung in the direction in which Travis was looking.  Her eyes widened.  Only a
few feet away, Rafael de la Cruz was kissing his fiancée.  Brooke’s mind raced
for something to say, but her thoughts were scattered.  As if sensing eyes on
them, Meghan turned and spotted Brooke.  Her mouth fell open.

“You know that
woman?” Travis asked, seeing recognition in the other woman’s eyes.  “The woman
with him?”

“Um, Travis,”
Brooke said slowly.  “I need to tell you something.  I was going to tell you
later but….”

Chapter
35

Travis looked
down at Brooke, frowning slightly.  He could tell she was nervous about
whatever she wanted to tell him.  After a long moment during which she fidgeted
and looked everywhere but at Travis, Brooke finally took a deep breath and
looked up at him.

“That woman is
Meghan,” Brooke said quietly.  Travis had to lean closer to hear her.  “His
fiancée.”

“I don’t
understand, Brooke,” Travis said, still frowning.  “You’re dating a man who’s
engaged?  And you knew about it?”

“I’m not dating
Rafa.  Not really.  It was –“

“Looks like the
game is up, huh?” a voice asked.

Brooke and
Travis turned to see Rafa and Meghan had moved through the crowd and now stood
beside them.  Rafa winked at Brooke, his smile white against his swarthy skin. 
Meghan, next to him, smiled a little less certainly; her eyes were fixed on
Travis’ unhappy face.

“Brooke, what is
he talking about?” Travis asked, his voice low and even.  “What’s going on?”

“Rafa is Jazz’s
cousin,” Brooke explained.  “I went out with him because…well, Jazz thought it
might make you jealous.”  Brooke’s words trailed off miserably.  This was
not
how she’d planned this conversation in her head.

“I see.”  At the
tone of Travis’ voice, Brooke’s head came up again.  Ruddy color stained his
cheeks.  His eyes were like chips of blue ice and his mouth was set in a hard
line.  “So this
was
some kind of game then.”

“What?”  Brooke
began shaking her head.  “No, Travis!  I didn’t mean – I never wanted to – it
was Jazz’s idea and she thought it would – “

“She’s right,”
Meghan said quickly.  “It was all Jazz’s idea!”

“But nobody
forced
you to go along with it, did they, Brooke?”  Once again, Travis folded his arms
across his chest in an angry, closed-off stance.  “So did you achieve what you
wanted?  Was making me look and feel like an idiot the prize in your little
game?”

“Whoa, Travis,
buddy,” Rafa began, only to be cut off by Travis.

“I am
not
your buddy, de la Cruz,” he bit out.

“Travis, it
wasn’t like that!” Brooke cried.

“Really?” he
asked sarcastically.  “So all the new clothes, the pretty dresses, the tight
jeans and sweaters, that wasn’t all for my benefit?  Your pretend date with
this character?”  He jerked a thumb at Rafa.  “Where did you go, anyway,
Brooke?  Where did you go that you didn’t get home till after two this
morning?”

“We…were with
Riley and Jazz and her family,” Brooke answered.  “Meghan was there, too.”

“Does your
fiancée know you kissed Brooke?” Travis asked Rafa.  “Was that part of the
game, too?”

“I kissed her on
the
cheek
,” Rafa said, slowly moving from puzzled bemusement to anger. 
“At her door I only leaned down to make you
think
I was kissing her!  I
knew you were watching!”

“Uh-huh.” 
Travis shook his head, disgust etched on his handsome features.  He began
backing away, his hands toward Brooke, palms out.  “I can’t believe you lied to
me that way, Brooke.  After everything I’ve done for you!”  He turned and
walked away, tossing his last words over his shoulder.  “Your little playmates
can see you home.  I’m done with the game.”

Brooke couldn’t
move.  She couldn’t speak or breathe.  She simply stood there, shaking
uncontrollably, watching Travis disappear into the happy crowd.  Meghan placed
an arm around Brooke’s shoulders, her worried gaze meeting Rafa’s dark eyes
over the shorter woman’s head.

“Rafa, we need
to get her out of here,” Meghan said.

“I’m on it!” he
answered.  He pointed.  “Wait right over there, I’ll bring the car as close as
I can get.”

“Come on,
Brooke,” Meghan coaxed gently.  With her arm around Brooke’s shoulders, she
urged her to the spot Rafa had indicated they should wait.  Brooke didn’t
resist, but moved slowly, as if she were in great pain.  Meghan could feel the
younger woman’s trembling growing more pronounced, and Brooke hadn’t said a
word or made a sound since Travis Cooper had walked away.  Meghan was truly
worried.

Several minutes
later, Rafa pulled alongside the curb in a dark sedan.  He jumped out and
hurried around to open the back door for Brooke.  He helped her inside, closed
the door and looked questioningly at Meghan.

“Rafa, I’m
worried,” she said.  “Brooke hasn’t said a word since he walked away from her
back there.”

“Let’s get her
home,” Rafa replied.  “Then…well, I don’t know, we’ll figure it out when we get
there.”

The drive to
Brooke’s house was agonizingly silent.  Meghan kept casting worried glances
over the back seat, while Rafa kept watching Brooke in his rear-view mirror. 
Brooke simply stared straight ahead, her face pale, her eyes dark.  When they
reached her house, her eyes shifted briefly to Travis’ house; his Hummer was
there in the driveway and lights were on throughout his house.

Rafa and Meghan
got out of the car and Meghan opened the back door.  Brooke slid out and walked
like some silent wraith to her front porch.  At the door, she looked back at
Rafa and Meghan, who were right behind her.

“I’m fine,” she
said, her voice subdued.  “I’d like to be alone.”

“I’m going to go
talk to Travis,” Rafa began.

“No!” Brooke
said quickly, her tone panicked.  “No.  Just go.  Please.”

Reluctantly,
Rafa and Meghan let Brooke go inside alone.  They slowly walked back to the
car, Meghan’s Civic.  Rafa hesitated at the car, looking across the dark yard
to Travis Cooper’s house.

“She said no,
Rafa,” Meghan said softly, knowing her fiancé’s thoughts.

“I know,” he
sighed.  “I just feel like we need to say something. 
Someone
needs to
set him straight.  He can’t believe what he said about her!”

“Give him some
time to cool off,” Meghan said wisely.  “If you go over there right now, he’s
more likely to punch you than listen to you.”

“I guess you’re
right,” Rafa said, clearly unhappy.  “Let’s go.  You can call Jazz while I
drive us back to your place.”

Travis heard the
car as it drove away from Brooke’s house.  He lost an internal struggle and looked
out the window.  Brooke’s house remained dark, but he knew she was home; Boo
had been let outside.  Even as Travis watched, the dog bounded back up the
front steps.  The door swung open, the dog went inside, but the house remained
dark.

Brooke went to
bed and lay awake for hours; finally, exhausted, she fell into a troubled
sleep.  When she woke the next morning, her eyes were grainy and her head
ached.  Brooke stumbled to the kitchen and made some coffee; she sat at the
kitchen table, silent and still, and drank the dark brew.  When she finished,
she returned to her bedroom, where she stood in front of her closet.

Slowly at first,
Brooke began pulling clothes from her closet.  The deep blue velvet knit dress
she’d worn on Thanksgiving landed on the floor of her bedroom.  The magenta
dress from her “date” with Rafael de la Cruz followed.  More clothes joined the
pile; slacks and blouses, price tags still attached, jeans, sweaters, skirts
and tops all went into the pile.

Next, Brooke
went to her bathroom and began tossing things out to go with the clothing.  The
little tube of foundation, the soft pink blush, the mascara the saleslady said
made Brooke’s lashes “decadent”, and all the other makeup for which Brooke
still owed Jazz was thrown onto the clothing.  Brooke went to the utility room
off her kitchen; she returned to her bedroom with a large trash bag.  Silently,
she gathered up the makeup and clothing and shoved it all into the trash bag. 
She dragged the heavy bag outside, all the way to the curb.  Then she returned
to her house, pulled off the old faded robe she’d put on earlier, and climbed
beneath the covers in her bed.

Nick Rodgers
leaned against the railing of Travis’ front porch, sipping a cup of coffee and
waiting for his uncharacteristically ill-tempered boss to join him in a trip to
a client’s office.  Nick watched Brooke Valentine struggle with a large trash
bag; she dragged it to the end of her driveway.  Nick found this odd, because
he knew no service came out this far in the country; Travis had mentioned that
he and Brooke had to haul their trash to a landfill.  Curiously, Nick pushed
away from the rail and ambled out to the end of Brooke’s driveway; he untied
the top of the bag and frowned.  He retied the bag, hefted it up and carried it
to his own truck.

“Nick, what are
you doing?” Travis snapped.  “What’s in the bag?”

“Looks like a
bunch of new clothes,” Nick answered casually.  “I just saw Brooke drag that
bag to the end of her driveway.  Figured I’d haul it away for her.”

“What new
clothes?” Travis muttered.

“All kinds of
clothes,” Nick replied.  “Jeans, sweaters, skirts – even a couple of pretty
fancy dresses.  One’s blue velvet, the other’s kind of a shiny pinky-purple
material.  Some of the stuff still has price tags, but –“  He shrugged.  “If
she doesn’t want it, she doesn’t want it.”

Travis’ blue
gaze shifted from the bag in the back of Nick’s truck to the oddly quiet house
next door.  After a moment, he strode toward his own vehicle.

“You coming?” he
growled over his shoulder.

“Right behind
you, boss,” Nick said.  He knew Travis would talk when he was ready; Nick just
hoped it wasn’t too late when Travis finally talked.

“Jazz, I’m
telling you, the guy was furious!” Rafa told his cousin on the other side of
town.  “Like, fire-breathing, kill you with one look, furious!”

“Oh, Jazz, you
should’ve heard the things he said to her!” Meghan said solemnly.  “He called
her a liar, and accused her of playing a game with him.  He asked if she meant
to make him look and feel like an idiot.”