Page 71 of Falling into Place

Page List

Font Size:

Carly

We expect employees to always act ethically, responsibly, and respectfully when dealing with company partners, clients, and our company image.

Employees will avoid personal, financial, or other potential conflicts of interest that may hinder their ability to perform expected job duties.

—Code of Conduct, Mode Style

Carly was freaking out.

Cucumbers. You’re just here for cucumbers.

And yet, she remained frozen in her car outside Brooks’s house, staring at his front door, Kendall’s words from the night before scrolling through her mind like a Broadway marquee.

He talked about you all night. I could tell it wasn’t on purpose, but he just sort of kept coming back to you.

You should see the look on his face when he talks about you. Literally all I want in life is for a man to look like that when he talks about me.

Please put that man out of his misery.

She’d come because she told him she’d be by today, but after hearing all that? What was she supposed to do, just stroll in there and act normal? Like she felt nothing and knew nothing and that nothing would change?

Half of her wanted to talk to him, but the other half maintained it was pointless.

Was it best to get it out in the open, maybe talk it out, because trying to hide mutual feelings that grew stronger every day could cause problems on its own? Normally it wouldn’t have had her tied up in knots, because once she’d become an adult and gained some experience in the relationship department, she rarely had trouble telling a man she was into him. But in this moment, instead of butterflies it felt like a swarm of hornets dive-bombing inside her stomach. Something about admitting it to Brooks Martin ... and more, admitting it to him when maybe he felt the same ... It was important. Bigger and more significant than anything she’d done before, and that gave her pause.

Also, the fact they absolutely, positively couldnotact on it right now really fucking sucked. But she’d literallyjustlanded that job, and she wasn’t about to let a man get in her way, that man being Brooks Martin or not. Two points to the Carly who wanted to keep her mouth shut.

When an older woman walking her dog gave Carly the side-eye as she sat in her car staring at his house, she finally got out, no closer to deciding what she’d do. Talk to him? Don’t talk to him? Make a run for the cucumbers and get the hell out of there?

She rubbed at her eyes as she walked unsteadily to his door and knocked.

A few moments later he opened it, looking rumpled and sexy in gray sweatpants and a white T-shirt, his dark hair in adorable disarray.

In her purely professional opinion, he had the hot loungewear look down pat. Vivid imagery of the dream she’d had last night—of her and Brooks making good use of a vacant hospital room—cycled through her brain, and she reached out to steady herself on the doorjamb.

“Hey,” he said with a smile, lifting one arm to run a hand through his hair.Gah. “Come in. Sorry I didn’t get dressed for you. I usually just go from sweatpants to scrubs and back again when I don’t have plans.”

“You never have to get dressed for me.” She stopped short, halfway through the door, and turned wide eyes on him. “Um, I meant get dressedup. For me.”

He laughed and put a gentle hand on the small of her back to urge her forward enough for him to close the door. The touch burned straight through her shirt, burrowed beneath her skin, and radiated to every single nerve ending.

Oreo pranced into the room and made a beeline toward her. She picked him up and nuzzled his head, happy to take the distraction.

“He missed you,” Brooks said. He stood near the armchair, relaxed with his hands in his pockets, looking at her like he was happy she was in this room with him.

Cat. Cat. Focus on the cat.“I started making him another sweater.”

Brooks tucked his lips between his teeth.

“Don’t look at me like that.” She cocked a brow at him and some of her anxiety settled, replaced by something more pleasant. “Just wait until you see it on him. You’re gonna love it.”

“I don’t doubt it,” he said, clearly trying to hold in a laugh.

With each look and word spoken, just being in his presence and the reminder of how comfortable it was ... made it all seem easier.

Being with him felt natural. Maybe they could figure this out.

She glanced through to the kitchen, then brought her eyes back to his dancing hazel ones. “I know you think the fact that I crochet cat sweaters makes me a huge nerd, but you’re the one with a dozen cucumbers laid out on your counter.”