Page 27 of Pucking Revenge

NINE

SARA

Brooks pulls out my chair and holds out a hand, motioning for me to sit. Thank God the cocktail hour appears to be over and the guests are settling around the table, because my ability to stand is severely compromised right now.

The saying about going weak in the knees must have been coined by a woman whose best friend went feral for her.

That’s what just happened, right?I don’t know how else to explain it.

Brooks literally lost it on his uncle. He claimed me. Caressed me. Kissed me in front of the man.

But why? I’m not even sure if he knows the truth of what happened between Seb and me. If he did, he’d be kicking me out, not pulling me close.

It’s obvious by his protectiveness that he heard something. But what? And how much? And what the hell is his plan?

Brooks settles in the chair next to me and grasps my hand. It takes a second for him to extricate it, since I’m wringing both of them in my lap. But once it’s free, he tugs it up and onto the table with a loud thwap, drawing the attention of the guests near us.

Across from me, Liv licks her lips and eyes me. She’s obviously fighting a smile, but her dark eyes are wide and filled with joy. I’m not sure what the hell I’m even supposed to do with my face. Five minutes ago, I was crying in the bathroom. Now my best friend is claiming me.

His words from earlier hit me. That comment about me being the one to say thank you if I just so happened to witness him come. In this moment, I believe it, because he is something else.

Who is this man and what happened to Saint Brooks?

My tongue feels too big for my mouth, and it’s like I’ve forgotten how to use my body parts. I can blink, but that’s about the extent of control I have over myself. My nose is itchy, but I don’t dare scratch it with the hand Brooks has practically glued to his own.

When the server comes around to fill our water glasses, Liv smirks. “Hey, Brooks. You think you can let go of your girl’s hand long enough so that she can fill her water?”

Brooks drops his chin and assesses our hands, like he’s surprised to see that he’s still holding me so tight.

With a sigh, he peels his fingers from mine. “Sorry. Here.” He picks up my glass and hands it to the server.

I take the opportunity to scratch my nose in case Brooks grabs for me again.

Seb saunters into the room, head held high, buttoning his jacket. He only hesitates when he takes in the open spots at the table. One next to his wife, and the other closer to our end of the table.

For a second, I think he’s going to sit near us, and my stomach bottoms out. Blindly, I grasp at Brooks’s hand and then lean into his arm.

“You okay?” His tone is soft, the anger that laced every word only moments ago all but gone.

“Yes, thank you.”

He shifts in his chair and takes me in, his green eyes studying me like he’s seeing me for the first time,as if he’s cataloging every inch of my face. Then he cups my cheek and strokes my face reverently with his thumb. “Thank you.”

My breath hitches, and tears burn at the backs of my eyes at his gentleness. “For what?”

Angling closer, he dips his chin and holds my gaze. “For being here. For staying.”

“You’re my best friend. You told me to follow your lead.” I swallow past the lump in my throat. “I trust you.”

Something about those words must settle him, because his forehead hits mine, and he closes his eyes as he takes a deep breath.

Across from us, Gavin chuckles. “Well, that’s one way to announce a relationship.”

Brooks huffs a breath of a laugh and opens his eyes. This time when he focuses on me, there’s a spark there, something akin to joy. A knowing glint in his emerald irises. Like he’s looking forward to whatever he’s going to do next.

It’s impossible to look away from him, even as he does just that. He turns, though his forehead still slightly kisses mine, and clears his throat.

“Figured that since everyone would be here tonight, this would be the perfect opportunity. Ya mind if we steal a little of your thunder, Dad?”

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