Font Size
Line Height

Page 19 of Falling into Place

He had several options to get out of the trap Brooks set, but it was anyone’s guess which one he’d take.

Things could get pretty quiet when they played chess, depending on how intense the game got.

The two times Brooks had beat Coach, he’d been uncharacteristically talkative.

Hoping to keep his opponent distracted, Brooks kept going. “She’s helping me with my garden, too.”

“Who is?” Coach said to the board.

“Carly.”

“She’s a gardener, too?”

“Her mom is. She sends her mom all my questions and pictures of my plants.”

Grunting, Coach continued staring at the game. “You could have just asked me. You know Linda’s got a green thumb.”

“True,” Brooks said. “I hadn’t even thought about that. I’ll keep that in mind.”

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and because Coach was taking his sweet time, Brooks figured he had a pass to check it. Carly had sent him an image of a tiny, bright-purple sweater with the caption Think Oreo will like it?

“What are you smiling at?”

Brooks looked up to find Coach’s eyes on him. “Oh, just a picture Carly sent me.” He chuckled. “She, uh ... she makes sweaters for cats.”

Coach frowned again, but kept his attention on Brooks for a long moment. “This Carly woman. Have you thought about asking her out?”

“Like, on a date?”

Coach nodded.

“No. Definitely not.” Brooks locked his phone and put it face down on the table. “She’s just a friend. It’s not like that with her.”

“Really? Because you haven’t told me a single detail about any of these women you’re supposedly having fun with, but in the last three minutes I’ve learned Carly has a cat, gives good advice, was at your house late last Friday, and has a gardener for a mother.”

“I—” Brooks started, then stopped. Cleared his throat. “I don’t see Carly like that. We’ve spent a lot of time together lately, but mostly because we have to. It’s nothing more than that.”

“She’s not pretty?”

“What?”

“Since you’re not interested in her, I’m assuming she must be ugly.”

“Good God, Coach. You can’t just call someone ugly. Haven’t you heard that old saying if you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all?”

“I’m an old man. I can do whatever I want.”

“Hard disagree. Human decency never expires.”

“I don’t see you correcting me.”

“Carly’s the opposite of ugly. She’s a knockout, okay?” As soon as the words left his mouth, Brooks scrambled to clarify before Coach could take that and run ten miles with it. “Objectively speaking, I mean. Anyone would think so. But her looks are neither here nor there.”

Coach nodded, like he was on the same page now. “She’s boring, then? Doesn’t make you laugh.”

“What? No, she’s one of the funniest women I know.” He suddenly remembered the fashion pun she’d casually dropped during a conversation last week. “But in this sort of sneaky, unsuspecting way which makes it even better. I probably laugh more when I’m with her than anyone else.”

“Hmm.” Coach scratched at his cheek, which he used to keep clean shaven but had let grow out after he retired. “Wait, I’ve got it: She’s too critical. Always wants to make sure you know when you’re doing something wrong, right?”

“No! She ... Wait a minute. I see what you’re doing.” Sneaky son of a bitch.

“Oh, so there is a brain in that head of yours? I was beginning to wonder.”

“Damn, Coach. Coming at me like that before nine in the morning?”

“I call it like I see it. Something’s changing in you, and if you’re spending as much time with her as you say, it sounds like she might be the reason.

You smile like a complete jackass when you talk about her, too.

I figure either you think I’m stupid, or you’re lying to yourself.

And I’m pretty sure we both know which one it is. ”

Brooks just stared at Coach, processing.

He liked to think he was an intelligent guy.

He was a physician for God’s sake, and chose one of the most complex specialties available in medicine.

Unfortunately, despite all the training he’d been required to take during fellowship, emotional intelligence had never been his strong suit.

Did ... did he have feelings for Carly Porter?

“I... I don’t know,” he finally managed. “But even if you’re right, it can’t happen while I’m committed to this magazine thing. I’ve gotta see it through for Sasha and Macy. And for my mom.”

“Why can’t this Carly be the one you go out with and take pictures with and write this crap about? Then everyone wins.”

Brooks scrubbed a hand down his face, any and all thoughts of chess strategy disappearing altogether. “She’s part of the team making the whole thing happen, and she mentioned its success somehow being important for her job, too. I don’t think it’s an option.”

“So you wait, then,” Coach said, as if it were just that simple. “How much longer do you have to be auctioned off?”

“What? God, I’m not ... That’s not ...” Brooks pinched the bridge of his nose. “You know what, never mind. I have two and a half months to go.”

“That’s not too bad. If she’s the one for you, she’ll be worth the wait.”

Brooks kept his expression carefully neutral. Even if he was a little rough around the edges, Coach adored his wife and was absolutely a commitment man. It wouldn’t do any good to tell him Brooks wasn’t looking for “the one.” On the contrary, he wanted to steer clear of anything resembling it.

But when it came to spending time with someone he enjoyed being around and had fun with, Coach was right: Carly stood out, well above the rest. Obviously he found her attractive, and if by some coincidence she felt the same about him—and understood he wasn’t interested in anything deeper—he could probably get on board with taking things one step past friendship.

He just had to figure out if that was what he wanted. If it was, and even if he managed to wait until the LiveOKC project was over, starting something with his sister’s best friend would be complicated in more ways than one, for both of them.

He wasn’t sure an added level of complexity was a good idea, and honestly, he wasn’t convinced she’d find him worth the trouble.