Page 22 of Falling into Place

Chapter Fifteen

Brooks

Are you keeping up with OKC’s local Bachelor, Brooks Martin? Tell us in the comments!

—LiveOKC Instagram post

What has been your favorite date location so far? OKC City Tours (link here) hooked me up with a rooftop spot for the downtown Fourth of July fireworks show. We just hung out with drinks and appetizers and watched the sky from the best vantage point in town. I gotta say, it was pretty magical.

Have you met anyone special? I’ve met some lovely women, but nothing serious yet. (Don’t worry, dear readers, I’ll keep you updated. —Sasha)

What advice do you have for OKC singles creating a dating profile on LoveInTheCity?

Be yourself. Being someone you’re not will waste both of your time.

I think there’s someone out there for everyone, so why waste your time meeting people you have nothing in common with?

Be honest (but not too honest—I probably should have skipped the cat hairball story, apologies to Date #3) and maybe even a little vulnerable.

That’s the kind of thing I put out there and what I hope to find in return.

Any embarrassing moments you want to share? I’ll just say this: if you take a woman to listen to a band play at a local bar, maybe check to make sure the lead singer isn’t her ex. Who sings mostly love songs he wrote about her.

Yeah.

Any what-not-to-do advice? Don’t bring a cucumber from your garden as a gift for your date. I thought it would be nice and sort of funny. It was neither. #creeper

Name three things about this process that have surprised you.

1. In a lot of ways it’s not as bad as I thought it would be. Overall we’re all just looking to make a connection and find someone to spend time with.

2. Pie Junkie has the best dessert in town. Holy crap, where has that place been all my life?

3. Having a personal stylist has really helped my confidence through this whole process.

It’s been a long time since I cared much about how I dressed, but she told me first impressions matter, and while I’m loath to admit it, she’s right.

Even the shopping isn’t so bad. I know, I’m just as surprised as you.

If you’re interested, check out Mode Style.

Carly: You got cucumbers?? I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!

Brooks: oh hey, i got cucumbers

Brooks: how did you know?

Carly: LiveOKC newsletter just hit my inbox. That’s so exciting! I’m proud of you, you little gardener, you.

Brooks: i prefer Garden Master

Brooks: Green Giant

Brooks: SuperGardener

Carly: Garden Gnome

Brooks: no

Carly: How was the date last night? Did you wear the shoes?

Brooks: yes but no one noticed because they’re shoes

Carly: If she didn’t compliment that delightful pair of footwear I don’t even know what life is anymore.

Brooks: do you have a fetish I need to know about?

Carly: Obsession, not fetish. I love shoes in a completely nonsexual way.

Brooks: wow, yeah. important distinction

Carly: Seriously how was the date?

Brooks: it was fine

Carly: Just fine?

Brooks: yeah. probably won’t go for a second date.

Carly: Have you considered maybe you’re looking for reasons not to have second dates? There’s no way this many women don’t want to go out with you again.

He couldn’t, wouldn’t, tell her the truth, which was there were so many times he’d found himself wishing it was Carly across from him—instead of the perfectly pleasant woman named Jillian—that he’d cut the date short.

Jillian didn’t know that, of course. He’d planned a walk around the Myriad Gardens and then going for ice cream after, but had nixed the dessert part.

Not because he hadn’t liked her. On the contrary, it was the best date he’d been on so far (minus him bringing a cucumber—that was awkward).

She was funny and outgoing, and they had a fair amount in common.

She was beautiful and held a successful career as a physical therapist, which gave them the topic of health care as something to fall back on if conversation ever stalled.

Which surprisingly, it never did.

Still, she wasn’t Carly.

He couldn’t stop thinking about her. Her quiet but snarky personality and how fucking beautiful she was when dressed up or while lounging at her house (seeing her relaxed like that had been .

.. a mistake). She cried while watching movies and was obsessed with perfect lines and throw pillows on her impeccably made bed (which just made him want to mess it up, preferably with her).

He’d made an emergency visit to Coach’s house last night and spent an hour talking about her, and yeah, he had thought about telling her about his cucumber success.

He’d felt a ridiculous and probably slightly pathetic amount of pride when he had pulled those first two vegetables from the vine, and she’d been the first person he’d wanted to tell.

She’d get excited with him and wouldn’t make him feel like a total loser for celebrating his accomplishment.

But that night at her apartment where he’d almost kissed her had freaked him out.

He wasn’t the kind of guy who made moves on a woman who was his sister’s best friend that he’d hired (well, sort of) to perform a service, and who was obviously still hung up on her ex.

Hell, he was barely the kind of guy who made moves.

He should probably put some distance there.

Which would be difficult tonight since he would see her out for Sasha’s birthday. That reminded him ...

Brooks: what should i wear tonight?

Carly: For Sasha’s thing? Whatever you want. Fassler Hall is super casual.

Brooks: okay

Brooks: but i need you to tell me exactly what to wear that’s what you do

Carly: Have you not paid attention when I’ve explained the reasons for pairing things? The goal is to learn how to do it yourself.

Brooks: okay

Brooks: can you just tell me though

Carly: Give it a try on your own. You have better instincts than you think.

Brooks: where did you hide my favorite jeans ?

Carly: I have no idea what you’re talking about but regardless those are always the wrong choice

Carly: I believe in you, Brooks. You can do this.

He pursed his lips, annoyed, but also amused.

He crossed his arms and walked into his closet, standing before his options.

He’d stay in here as long as it took, because if the way he’d felt when she’d gushed about his cucumbers just now was any indication, little made him feel as good as when he made Carly Porter proud.

He hadn’t felt this nervous in a long time.

He walked into the massive beer hall, posture stiff and hands stuffed into his pockets as he surveyed the room for anyone he recognized in the group celebrating Sasha’s birthday. Which would be one of his sisters or Carly.

Sasha had told him to bring James, but the bastard bailed to go to dinner with his new girlfriend.

For years, James had long been his go-to on the rare night he wanted social interaction.

He understood Brooks’s call schedule, and they always had plenty to talk about.

When it came to women, he and James had kept similar lifestyles during training.

Meaning they hadn’t done relationships. And for the first several months after starting real jobs, just like Brooks, James hadn’t broken tradition.

Until Aly, the barista. Brooks hadn’t thought it would last long, because nothing with James ever lasted long. But it had been a couple of months now, and when Brooks had caught James at the hospital to catch up last week, his friend had seemed pretty damn happy.

“Why do you look distraught?” a familiar feminine voice said from behind him, bringing him back to the present.

Brooks immediately relaxed. “Because you wouldn’t tell me what to wear.”

“Looks great from the back. Turn around and let’s see the whole picture.”

Was she referring to his ass again?

Maybe he should have told Sasha he was sick. Or on call tonight.

He turned around to face Carly, and the second she filled his gaze his throat seized up.

His hands screamed at him to let them touch her.

Slide his fingers through that long, brown hair or move his palm down the green, silky tank top that fluttered around her skin with the breeze flowing through the open windows.

He tried to swallow but it was no use, because that black skirt was so short her legs seemed miles longer than seemed possible.

He didn’t give a flying flip about shoes, but he liked that he could see her pink-tipped toes in whatever heeled sandals she wore, tall enough that the top of her head was near his chin, sending her vanilla scent his direction.

“Nice shoes,” he said, unable to clear the rasp from his tone.

He definitely shouldn’t have come.

Her eyebrows danced with humor as those warm brown irises drank him in, and did he imagine that flash of heat in her eyes?

“You did good, Brooks,” she said with a smile. She tucked hair behind one ear, sending a gold earring twirling. “Real good.”

Mesmerized by the light flashing on the jewelry, it took him a second to respond. “I threw everything you’ve ever picked out for me on my bed, closed my eyes, and grabbed something.”

She laughed and his heart swelled. “No, you didn’t.”

“I’m serious.” He’d come up with the short-sleeved gray Henley in one hand and navy chinos in the other. He still thought the pants were too tight and too short, but he’d wear them every fucking day if she’d keep looking at him like that.

“At least tell me you hung everything back up after.”

“Right before I made my bed.”

She groaned and it went straight to his groin. “Come on,” she said, shaking her head. “Everyone’s over here.”

He followed her to a rambunctious group near the back of the room, crowded around a table with a giant two-foot-tall game of Jenga on the wooden, picnic-style table.

Sasha yelped and nearly spilled her beer when she saw him, jumping up to give him a hug. “You came!”