Page 31 of Falling into Place

Chapter Twenty-One

Brooks

The Martin Special

—Ralph’s Pizzeria Custom Register Entry

Brooks felt drugged. Or drunk.

Or something.

His muscles were loose and relaxed, his vision was blurry, and he was uncommonly affectionate to the point he wanted to tell the warm body beside him how much he adored her.

All of it was probably just the orgasm(s) talking, but either way, he needed to take it down a notch.

“First one didn’t count,” he managed.

It had been a while. He’d tried to make it up to her.

“Second one sure as hell did,” she returned, her chest still rising and falling rapidly.

He rolled onto his side and pulled her back to his chest, breathing her in. She covered his hand with hers and wove their fingers together against her stomach.

“Brooks Martin, are you a cuddler?”

“Not usually, no.”

She tilted her head back to look over her shoulder, meeting his eyes. Her cheeks were still flushed and her lips swollen from his kiss.

He lifted his head to kiss her temple, then let it fall back to the pillow. He slipped his knee between her thighs. “I’m sorry I didn’t wear your suit.”

“Right now, I literally couldn’t care less.”

Neither could he. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“You already did.”

Okay, but he wanted to do it again.

And again.

He slid his fingers through her silky hair, all the way down her back to the edges, and put his thumb on the small bump of her spine. He moved it up and down a few notches, counting, enjoying the soft, smooth feel of her skin. “Wow. L3.”

“What?”

“When we first met up at Coffee Slingers, I was surprised how long your hair was. And how dark.”

She laughed. “Yeah, I was in a short blond phase in high school. Did you like that better?”

“No. I liked this and wondered exactly how long it was, which was a completely inappropriate thing to be thinking about at the time. But now I know it goes to your L3 vertebrae.”

“Whoa. Nerd alert.”

“I think you like that about me.”

“Let’s find out. What’s the twelfth element?”

“Magnesium.”

“Kiss me.”

He did, and a few seconds later her stomach growled and he laughed. “Looks like we need to feed you something, though. What sounds good?”

She thought for a moment. “Something we can order in, because I don’t want to go anywhere, and we can’t go anywhere. Together, anyway.”

“Fine by me.”

“I sort of want pizza. How about Ralph’s?”

He froze. She must have felt it because she scooted forward to twist around and look back at him again. “What’s wrong?”

His parents had loved Ralph’s. If memory served, they’d only missed having it one Friday night when a stomach bug had ravaged the house and no one could get out of bed without getting sick.

He’d looked forward to Friday nights, even as a hormonal preteen and teenager when it wasn’t cool to hang out with your family.

He hadn’t had it since his parents died. None of them had.

Out of nowhere, Nikki’s voice popped into his head, reminding him that everyone at work saw him as unemotional and someone who didn’t like to connect with people.

She’d said she liked to get through hard things by leaning on others.

This moment, right here, right now, could be a chance for him to try that.

He could tell Carly about Ralph’s and what it meant to him and that thinking about the fact he’d never share it again with his entire family, all five of them, felt like a shard of glass slowly puncturing his heart, draining warmth and happiness from his very soul.

He could tell her, and maybe lean on her. If there was anyone in the world he’d share that with, it was her.

But as he regarded her lying beside him, her brown eyes wide and concerned, the words died in his throat. He pasted a smile on his face and shook his head. “Nothing. I’m great. Ralph’s sounds perfect.”

After placing their order on Uber Eats for contactless delivery, Carly slipped on one of Brooks’s old college T-shirts—which was sexy as hell—and settled onto the couch in the living room. He searched through his Hulu queue while she cuddled into his side and ran a hand down Oreo’s back.

“I showed my mom the picture of your garden haul,” she said. “She was impressed. She’s getting ready for her second planting of the season, so I stole a bag of her carrot seeds for you.”

“You stole them? Way to set me up for a good first impression with your mother.”

“I can give them back.”

“No, I want them. Are you sure I can plant them? It’s so hot right now.” August in Oklahoma usually boasted triple-digit heat and constant humidity and was the one time every year Brooks serious considered relocating.

She shrugged. “If my mom’s doing it, I promise it’s fine.”

He wasn’t totally convinced, but he definitely didn’t know better. “Okay, but if they don’t grow I’m blaming you.”

She laughed, then gave him a gorgeous smile before resting her head on his shoulder. “They’ll grow.”

An absurd warmth bloomed in his chest at her confidence in him. It had been a long time since he’d felt like he had to prove something to anyone but himself, but over these last few weeks he’d found himself wanting to make Carly proud.

He found a sitcom she’d mentioned liking once and ran his fingers through her hair. Two weeks ago he’d never have thought he’d be here, with this smart, beautiful woman pressed up against him, sharing his usually solitary space.

“I’m not sure I’ll be any good at this,” he blurted out.

“Won’t be good at what?”

“Being a partner. Even a casual one,” he added. “I’m used to being alone. I work weird hours sometimes. Until recently, I haven’t had a social life in more than a decade.”

She sat up, crossing her legs on the couch and turning to face him.

“I don’t care about that. When I start at Mode full time, I’ll keep weird hours, too.

A lot of clients can only meet in the evenings or on weekends.

And I don’t need a man to be social—I can do that on my own if I want to. That’s not what I want you for.”

His mouth twitched, relief filling him. “Oh? What do you want me for?”

She pursed her lips. “I just mean I like you, Brooks Martin, as you are. I know the reason we reconnected and why Sasha wanted you to do this whole Bachelor thing. I know your job can be hard and some days you probably just need to coast. I know you have a cat and like to watch TV at home and probably only like to go out in the fall for Thunder games. I also know you’re more fun than you give yourself credit for.

I’m not looking for someone to keep a social calendar like Sasha does, or even like I used to.

I want someone I enjoy spending time with and who I want to get naked with. ”

Something ached below his sternum, and he tried to ignore the accompanying warning that Carly was someone he could get attached to if he wasn’t careful. Sex and talking, that’s all this was. Friendship and companionship and a lot of touching.

“Is that so?”

“It is.”

He leaned close, loving the way her breath hitched when their lips were barely an inch apart. He probably should have focused on all the other nice things she’d said, but ... “You want to keep getting naked with me?”

“Very much, yes.”

He kissed her softly. “I’m all for that, in case it wasn’t clear. But you keep beating me to the punch, just like when you said you liked me. I should have said it a long time ago, but there just seemed to be so many reasons why I shouldn’t.”

“I probably shouldn’t have, either. We still have to be careful.”

“I know. We will.” He wouldn’t risk all of Sasha’s hard work. In fact, he was fully content to just hide away with Carly in the privacy of his house until the coast was clear, and then maybe even longer just to make sure. “But I’m so fucking happy you did.”

She plucked at his sweatpants. “I was so nervous I sat in my car for fifteen minutes before I finally came to the door. And I still didn’t know if I’d tell you how I felt.

Because my job matters and so does Sasha’s, and I know you care about keeping the magazine alive, too.

But then you were just so cute about your cucumbers I couldn’t hold it in any longer. ”

“That’s what finally did it for you? My produce?”

“Obviously.”

“Weird, I kind of thought it was the jeans I wore when we first met.”

She didn’t miss a beat. “I do love a charity project.”

“Damn,” he said, clapping his free hand across his heart.

They both laughed, smiling at each other, but then her expression transformed into something serious, contemplative.

“It’s been a slow build for me,” she said.

“Even from the start, I couldn’t help but notice you.

The ways you’ve changed, the parts of you that remind me of the old Brooks.

I wanted to keep things professional, so I worked really hard to keep any thoughts of you as more than a client at bay.

But the more time we spent together, the more I liked you, and the harder that was to ignore.

It wasn’t until you had the date with Kendall that I realized how into you I was.

You’ve never been just a client to me, so it always felt different.

The idea of you and one of my closest friends together made me miserable. ”

“I’d never have agreed to go out with her if I’d thought I had a chance with you.

” His steady gaze never left her face, and he reached out to wrap a piece of her ponytail around his finger.

“She’s a great person, and in another life I might have had a lot of fun with her.

But all I wanted that night at trivia was to be next to you. I felt so obvious.”

“Same.” She slid her hand up his forearm.

“This doesn’t have to be something scary and serious, okay?

Honestly, I don’t do well with change, and I just made a huge one with my job that I’m glad I did but is still a little terrifying.

I’m going to want to take this—us—slow, anyway, you know? See where it goes. Can we do that?”

“Yes.” Relief flooded him, cool and soothing. “Slow is good.” He slanted his mouth across hers again, because he couldn’t get enough of the taste of her.

“And speaking of change and your job, we need to celebrate. Sometime later when, you know, I can take you out and do it right.”

“I’d love that,” she said.

“Does the promotion mean you get to do more with the ideas you told me about a while back? Finding used clothes and helping people who have a tighter budget for shopping and stuff? Because I still think about that and how many people you could help.”

“I hope so,” Carly said. “I suggested it once to Mai, that we do some targeted marketing toward that part of our community. She wasn’t super excited about it, so I let it go.

But maybe now I’ll revisit it with her.” She rubbed her thumb across his skin, lost in thought.

“Thrift shopping is actually the whole reason I fell in love with fashion, did you know that?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“The first time I remember getting excited about clothes was in sixth grade. We obviously didn’t have a lot of money, and I mainly wore hand-me-downs from neighbors or things my mom picked up at garage sales.

They didn’t fit me well because we took what we could get, and when I hit middle school it became painfully obvious other kids were going to judge and tease me about it.

One day I asked my mom if we could go to Goodwill together, because I wanted to see for myself what my options were.

I found this flowy pink skirt and I fell in love. ”

The only item of clothing he’d ever loved were those damned jeans. God, he missed them.

“The skirt was all worn,” she continued. “And in hindsight was more suited for a costume closet than something a preteen girl would wear to school, but it didn’t matter. I’d never owned anything like it, and I wore it around all weekend, feeling like a princess.

“For the first time in ... well, ever, I had confidence when I went to school on Monday. It was far from high fashion and didn’t have a brand name others would notice, but there was just something different about me that day.

In me, even. I had the courage to talk to a girl at school and made one of my first real friends.

I wore that skirt as often as I could, and started going with my mom every time she went searching for clothing bargains.

I developed a knack for finding things I loved in the most unusual places and found my own style.

I discovered creativity and how to be bold.

I learned how to express myself using what I had to work with.

” She smiled, tugging at the fabric near his thigh again, almost like she needed something to do with her hands.

“Anyway, I guess that’s why I love that kind of styling. It’s where I fell in love with it.”

“I can’t believe I’ve never heard that story,” he said. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

“You think so?”

“I know so. You turned something tough into something beautiful, and you’re helping other people with it. What’s better than that?”

Her soft smile was everything.

“Hearing that story reminds me a little of the day I knew I wanted to go into critical care,” he said.

“There was this patient who was near death when I’d started the rotation, and on my last day one month later, I watched her walk out of there on her own two feet.

Even the attending was surprised at her recovery, but none of it would have been possible without that medical team.

I’d lost both my parents by then, and I was having a hard time believing anything ever ended well.

I’d already changed quite a bit, but instead of just being focused and introverted, I was on a path toward flat-out pessimism about life.

Seeing that patient turn around sparked a passion in me I didn’t know I had, and it’s the outcome I’ll never stop chasing.

That’s how you look when you talk about helping people find their confidence—you light up.

There’s nothing better than finding your passion and turning that into what you do with your life, you know? ”

“You’re so right,” she said, and the way she looked at him in that moment made him feel on top of the world.

A rustling sound came from the front door, and they both stilled, listening. Then Brooks’s phone dinged with an Uber Eats alert.

“Pizza’s here.”

“Oooh, yes,” Carly said, rising.

She went to the door and opened it, but when he noticed from the corner of his eye that she didn’t bend down to get the boxes, Brooks looked over.

And found himself looking at Sasha, standing on his porch, staring straight at them.