Page 81 of New River Gorge(ous)
Brooke and Melanie walk down the hallway to the living room, arm in arm. Melanie is pretty enough, sure, but my eyes cannot focus on anything but Brooke.
Her dress shifts and flows in the slight breeze of the fans that June keeps running in the heat of the day. It’s light and flowy and ethereal, and alsoher. Tiny pink flowers—roses, I think—are printed all over the dress. The hot pink heels make her stand almost equal to my height. She is, in a word, breathtaking.
Breath-stealing would be more accurate. She has stolen my breath with her beauty, and it takes every ounce of control in my body to snap my jaw shut as I behold her.
“Hi,” Brooke says from across the room.
June leans against a doorframe, watching me and Matt as she winks at me.
The gentle lilt of Brooke’s voice is enough to snap me into action. I stand and cross the room to her, and honestly, I’m not sure what I intend to do, but June interrupts with, “Be a gentleman, Beckett.”
Instead of what I want to do, which is to let my physical attraction for Brooke take over, I stop short and grasp her hand, bringing her knuckles to my lips and pressing a kiss against the rough lines of her skin.
Her breath hitches.
“On my honor, Miss June,” I say, “I’ll be a gentleman.” June gives a single nod before turning her attention to Melanie and Matt. “Young sir!” she exclaims. “You can dothatwhen you’re married.”
Matt hops away from where he was practically making out with Melanie.
“Sorry, Meemaw,” he says in contrition.
Melanie flushes, but then she giggles too.
“Is everyone ready?” I ask.
When everyone affirms that they are, I lead the way to my truck, keeping Brooke’s hand tucked in mine.
Because parking at Billy’s is difficult on a good day and this dance brings the locals out in droves, I offered to drive. Not tomention the fact that Matt’s Michigan license plate would stick out like a sore thumb tonight. He seemed to do the math himself and agreed it might be better for me to drive.
Matt and Melanie squeeze into the back seats of my old truck while Brooke hops into the front. As we drive to Billy’s, Melanie keeps up a constant chatter about how excited she is to dance and what her favorite dances were in high school and then at her sorority in college.
Brooke catches my eye and raises her brows at the mention of Melanie’s sorority experience. Melanie is nice enough, and the more I get to know her, the more the pieces of who she is make perfect sense. It’s not that there’s anything wrong with sororities, it’s just that it all fits so neatly into the box that is Melanie.
I pull into the dirt space that is Billy’s parking lot and try to find a spot among the throng of other double-parked vehicles.
Thoughts of how the women in my truck are so different from each other run rampant. Melanie fits into the parameters of the box I’d expect her to, but Brooke, on the other hand, isn’t what I expect. Truthfully, I love that about her. Her take-charge personality isn’t because she’s controlling, it’s because it covers up her anxiety.
Brooke’s pink streaks of hair are in some sort of braided crown on her head, while the rest of her blonde hair flows long and loose past her shoulders. She’s got her phone in her lap, and when it buzzes, she picks it up and smiles softly.
“What’s got you smiling?” I ask after I pull into a spot and cut the engine.
“This.” She shows me a picture on her phone. It’s a black-and-white sonogram with a white area circled, and text interposed that says “baby.”
“It’s Paige. She had her appointment, and everything looks good.”
I know I’m a doctor, but I have always found it odd that women show pictures of their uteruses to each other with baby news. Must be some uniquely female urge that I don’t understand. Despite the fact that itisweird to show a picture of your uterus to your friends, I am happy for Paige and Connor. Paige and Connor seem like they’ll be great parents—warm, loving, kind. All the things my mom was not.
“Is she feeling better?” I ask.
“I’m not sure, I’ll ask her.” Brooke types out a message and hits send. “Are you ready to dance?”
“Who’s having a baby?” Melanie croons.
“My friends Paige and Connor,” Brooke says.
“Wait, really?” Matt interjects. “I haven’t kept up with them much, butreally?”
“Yes, really.”
