Page 19 of Denim & Diamonds

Brock

A few days later, the bells on the door chimed as I entered the one tuxedo shop in all of Meadowbrook.

A man immediately greeted me. “How can I help you, Mr. Hawkins?”

I didn’t recognize him, but he apparently knew me.

“I need to be measured for a tux, please.”

“I’ll get someone right out.”

“Thank you.” I nodded.

Looking around at the mannequins dressed to the nines, I felt very out of place. I’d made fun of Plaid Suit, and here I was getting fitted for one myself. I’d make sure the pants were longer than his had been, though.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Brock Hawkins,” a voice said from behind me.

I whipped around. Squinting at the short blonde, I realized her face looked familiar. Shit. Just what I need. Sasha Brinkley. I dated her in high school.

I ran a hand through my hair. “Sasha. How have you been? ”

“I’m well. What brings you in here? You’re not finally getting married, are you?”

“No.” I shook my head.

“Was gonna say. Pigs must be flying, if that’s the case.” She laughed.

“I’m attending a wedding out of state and want to make sure I have a tux in time.”

“That figures. Would’ve been the talk of the town if you were off the market.”

“Not really sure how my relationship status is anyone’s business, but okay…”

“I heard about what you did to your ex. What was her name? Tina?”

“Nina.” I gritted my teeth. “And excuse me? What the hell are you talking about? What I did ?”

She smirked. “Drove her out of town…”

This was pissing me off. I shouldn’t encourage any more discussion of this, but I felt the need to defend myself. “Where exactly are you getting your information?”

“People talk around here, Brock. You know that.”

“I didn’t drive anyone out of town. That isn’t what happened at all. Nina’s a grown-ass woman with a mind of her own.”

She shrugged. “Well, maybe she left of her own accord. But I’m pretty sure women don’t leave town entirely unless their hearts are broken.”

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Sasha.

And I suggest you spend less time entertaining the Meadowbrook gossip mill and more time doing your damn job.

” I glared at her. “Can you kindly just measure me?” I shook my head.

“Actually, no.” The last thing I needed was Sasha’s hands down by my balls or some shit.

“Can you get someone else to do it, please?”

She rolled her eyes and left in a huff.

A man came by a few minutes later, taking a tape measure to me. He didn’t say a damn word, which was exactly the way I liked it.

I had both of my arms sticking straight out when I glanced at the window and noticed Trevor walking by. He did a double take before a look of amusement spread across his face.

Great. Just great.

He entered the shop wearing a shit-eating grin. “What’s this all about?”

“What does it look like?”

“Don’t tell me you’re eloping with Fancy Pants? If that’s the case, might I be the first to say, ‘I told you so’?”

“I’m accompanying her to a wedding next month. It’s black tie.”

“Interesting. And where might this wedding be?”

“New York.”

Trevor’s eyes went wide.

After the guy finished taking my measurements, I went to the register to put down some money while my nosy brother waited for me. Sasha flashed me a dirty look from across the store.

As we walked out of the shop together, Trevor started grilling me.

“I’m surprised you’re going out of town for some wedding,” he said. “The last time we spoke, it seemed like you had written off anything happening between you and February. Now you’re getting fitted for a tux and traveling to New York?”

“Yeah, well, I’m just taking it day by day. ”

“Cool. I just, you know, wanna make sure you’re staying true to yourself.”

I wasn’t following. “In what way?”

“ You in a tux shop? It’s like the apocalypse, man.”

“I’m not changing for anyone, Trev. It’s just a damn wedding. One day. Calm your nutsack.”

“Just keep in mind that you’re sending her a clear message that you’re interested by going to this wedding. Nothing wrong with that. And I’m all for it. But if you don’t plan to try to make things work once she leaves, you may not want to lead her on.”

“I thought just the other day you were supporting me pursuing her,” I noted. “Why are you trying to mess with my head right now?”

“I do support it, so long as you don’t lose yourself in the process, you know?”

“You don’t need to worry about that. I’ve got too many damn responsibilities in this fucking town to ever forget who I am, even if I wish I could sometimes. Couldn’t lose myself if I tried.”

“All right. All right.” He chuckled. “Hey, wasn’t that the girl you dated in high school working in there? What was her name? Sasha?”

“Yeah. She had some nerve. Came over to me and started talking shit.”

“What did she say?”

“She mentioned that she’d heard about what I did to Nina—whatever the hell that means.”

“What did you do to Nina?”

“That’s exactly the point. People are just making shit up.”

He laughed. “Well, if there’s anything people in this town are good at, it’s talkin’ crap and making shit up. ”

I tried to laugh, and I wished I could just shake it off. But the mention of Nina had gotten inside my head a bit. I’d never actually explained to February why my ex left town. And once she learned what happened, she might doubt whether we could make this work.

***

Later that evening, I was back at my house when I got a text.

February: I won’t be able to meet you tonight.

I hadn’t been sure whether we had plans, but I was hoping she’d sneak out as usual.

However, at first, I was relieved. Given how hard it had been to control myself around her lately, it was probably safer to have a night off.

But it also bummed me out, since she didn’t have much time left here in Meadowbrook.

Brock: Why can’t you come out?

February: I’m sick.

Brock: Crap, really? What are your symptoms?

February: Just feel run down. Maybe some kind of virus. I’ve been in bed all day. My new roommate went to another room to sleep so she doesn’t catch it.

Brock: Damn. I’m sorry to hear that, Red.

February: It’s okay. I’ll live.

Brock: Get some rest.

February: xo

I turned to Oak. “I told her to get some rest, but I should go over there. What do you think? ”

He stared at me.

“Or is that too much? She’s sick. Maybe she doesn’t want me there. No one wants guests when they’re sick, right?”

Oak tilted his head.

“But she’s probably not eating if she’s sick. She needs to eat. She needs chicken soup.”

He let out a single bark.

“Now you’re awake because you heard the word chicken , you big lug!”

He barked again.

“You think I should do it, don’t you?”

He fell to my feet and rolled his big body around on the floor.

“You just want chicken. I can’t trust you for shit.” I sighed. “But you do think I should go get the stuff to make soup? I’d have to go to the store. Tell me what to do, Oak.”

Ruff!

“Damn you, you old romantic.” I grabbed my coat. “All right. I’ll go.”

***

This is going to be interesting.

I had the soup carefully sealed in a container in a bag. I needed to hurry so it didn’t get cold because I wasn’t sure if Feb had a way of heating it up. I couldn’t remember if she had a microwave in her room.

I’d thrown my own ladder into the back of my truck and set it up right before I sent her a text.

Brock: Open your window, Red.

Please don’t be asleep .

When I noticed the window slide open, I began to climb the ladder.

As I made my way up, February called down to me.

“What are you doing, Brock?”

“Brought you some soup,” I said, careful not to jostle the contents of the bag too much as I climbed.

She took the bag from me as I crawled through the window.

“Be careful with that,” I warned. “It’s hot chicken soup. I don’t want it to leak.”

Her mouth dropped open. “You made me soup?”

I nodded. “You have to eat it fast before it gets cold.”

“You didn’t have to do this.”

“Well, Oak told me to. He said he owed you for the nice sleep the other night.” I winked. “Lie down and relax. I’ll prepare you a bowl.”

I took out the two bowls I’d brought, figuring I’d have some with her.

She covered her mouth. “You brought bowls?”

“Well, you don’t even have plates at home. Figured you didn’t have bowls here. I brought spoons, too.”

As I handed her a bowl, I looked more closely at her face. Not a sniffle in sight, and she had makeup on. My stomach sank. February didn’t seem too sick.

“On second thought…” I stood. “I’ll leave you with the soup.”

“Stay.” She rose from the bed. “You brought two bowls, which was very sweet. Clearly you were planning to join me.”

“Yeah. But now I’m thinking better of it. Probably shouldn’t risk catching whatever you have.” I tried to give her the benefit of the doubt .

She frowned. “I promise to keep my distance if you stay and have some soup.”

So I caved, lying next to her in bed—fuck distance—while we ate together.

“This was incredibly sweet, Brock. Thank you,” she said when she’d finished. “And it was really good, by the way. Who says the only thing you know how to make is stew?”

“Well, I’m glad you liked it.” I winked. “And no biggie. I needed a good deed of the day anyway.”

February elbowed me. “I should get sick more often.” Her smile faded.

I started to worry again about what was really going on. Something still seemed off.

“I should probably get going.” I moved off the bed.

“Please stay. I want to talk to you.”

Lying back down next to her, I said, “Okay. What’s up?”

“Did you come for any other reason than to bring me soup?”

“I’ve had a lot on my mind today, actually…”

“Like what?”

“I wondered whether I went a little too far in telling you how scared I was about my feelings for you. I don’t want to scare you.

” I hesitated. “And…there’s some stuff you don’t know about my past relationship.

I never explained why Nina left town. And I kind of feel like getting that off my chest for some reason. ”

A look of concern crossed her face. “Why don’t you tell me now?”