Page 32 of Crossing the Brooklyn Briggs
Guess she doesn’t like lemon either. Sighing, I swap our glasses too.
“We got married two years after I graduated UCSB,” I tell her because I know she wants to know. “Married for three years. No kids or anything.”
We would have had to have time together in order to have kids, and that was not something we had in abundance. It’s probably for the best, all things considered. Kids would have made our divorce messy, and I wouldn’t have been able to come back to Sun City if we had shared custody. Natalie will never leave California and the lifestyle she has there.
The lifestyle I drove her to.
Brooklyn takes a long drink this time, clearly happier with her plain water. Her eyes never leave my face. If she’d been anyone else, the eye contact would have been unnerving, but Brooklyn has a way of putting people at ease because she’s so calm. People can’t help but be calm right with her.
“Was it hard to leave?” That’s it. That’s the only question she’s going to ask, of all the things she could ask.
I’m not even sure how to answer it. A whole lot of varying emotions swim in my chest, colliding into each other and making breathing painful. “Yes,” I say. And it’s true. There’s still a part of me that will always love Natalie, and it’s not like our marriage was ever bad. “And no,” I add because I am so much happier now than I was then, but that has nothing to do with my marriage.
And now that things are good and awkward, I stuff half the omelet into my mouth because I’m classy like that.
We pretty much eat in silence after that, which means we eat quickly, and I’m more than ready to pay the check when Kinley comes back to see how things are going. We need a distraction, and I know just the thing.
“Come on,” I say as soon as I get my credit card back. “Time for our next stop.”
Brooklyn’s eyes go wide. “Next stop?”
She sure knows how to make a guy feel unwanted. I can’t help but laugh as I crouch down to get her on my back again. “This was only stage one of your training. You still have a lot to learn about romance, Queens.” And if I could stop calling it that, that would be great. Flirting is one thing. Romance is another. Until I actually meet this guy, which will probably never happen, I’m not all that cool with thinking about him in a relationship with Brooklyn. He could be better than any of the last guys she dated, but I’m not holding my breath.
For how smart she is, Brooklyn has terrible taste in guys.
“Where are we going?” she asks when we get back to the truck.
I get her in her seat and have the truck started up before I answer. I’m not sure if I’m stalling or worried she’ll try to escape. “I’m taking you to The Glendale.”
“The art gallery?” Her eyebrows dip low, though she’s smart enough to figure out why. Based on her completely bare basement, I don’t really see her as an art connoisseur, but it absolutely sounds like a thing her teacher crush would be into. “Jordan, I have to work today.”
I glance at her, ignoring the alarm bell in my head that tells meIshould be working today too, especially because I didn’t get anything done yesterday. But the team is fine. Rick said so when I told him I had an emergency come up this weekend. Why is it so hard to believe it? Rick wouldn’t lie to me.
“It’s Saturday,” I say, forcing myself to stay in the conversation.
“Yeah, well, I didn’t do any of my stuff yesterday because of my migraine. It’s fine.”
I grip the steering wheel a little tighter. Natalie used to get migraines, and it was a sore spot for both of us. She complained endlessly that I didn’t take them seriously, and I honestly never knew if she really had a headache or if she was just trying to get my attention. If she hadn’t admitted to faking it sometimes, I never would have questioned it.
I shift in my seat, forcing myself to stop thinking about my marriage. It’s not going to help anybody. “Do you get migraines often?” I don’t know how that question is supposed to help me stop thinking about Natalie, but whatever. At least I can count on Brooklyn telling the truth.
Brooklyn shrugs, watching the car in the lane next to us. “A couple of bad ones every month, and some little ones here and there. I’ve learned to deal with it.”
“That sucks. Have you been to a doctor?” As soon as that question leaves my mouth, I know it was the wrong one. With the way she fought so hard against getting her ankle looked at, I don’t think she’s a fan of doctors. I can relate. Every time I take my mom to get her treatments or scans, a part of me crumbles.
Still, Brooklyn shrugs again. “A couple, but no one can really figure out the cause. It’s fine.”
It’s not fine, but Natalie went through the same thing. She learned a couple of her triggers but never really got a solution, and that was after going to some of the best doctors money could pay for. I didn’t do a lot for her, but at least I did that.
I pull into the parking lot of the gallery and turn off the truck, leaving us in silence. I miss the easy casualness we had between us before I brought up Natalie, and I need to find a way to bring it back. Brooklyn is already too serious for her own good.
“We don’t have to stay long,” I tell her. “But this lesson is going to be important.”
She looks at me out of the corner of her eyes. “What’s the lesson?”
“Temptation,” I whisper.
Reaching out, I brush the back of my finger along her cheek and get a little thrill from the color that rises in her fair skin.Don’t get any wild ideas, I tell myself. That’s not my blush to earn. Is that going to stop me?
