Chapter Seventeen

As soon as she opened the door, she realized how wrong it seemed. No comment on the even deeper tan that she had gotten during her month in Australia, making her eyes seem all the more brighter. No comment on her tired expression, or the proud smile on her face, considering that the first leg of her tour was finished. No comment about anything. It was then that she realized that the house seemed very empty.

Brooklyn dropped her bags in the living room, too tired to take them all the way upstairs before she went back to the foyer and kicked off the shoes that she was wearing, sighing when her feet screamed their relief. How many hours had she been in the air? How many lay overs had she encountered during that time? She couldn't even remember.

This was a time that she was so tired, she couldn't sleep, and it didn't help all that much. She knew, that from the last few days on the tour, her eyes were rimmed with red and shadowed with dark circles under them. She had never liked sleeping on planes, though it came so natural to her, but sleeping on such a long flight was boring. At least they had first class seats, something that she usually frowned against, but she was more than happy to have the extra leg room. It still didn't help but it was a little nicer.

Her feet moved automatically into the kitchen and she opened up the freezer, peering inside. The ice cream that was hidden in the back couldn't have still been good, but she decided to try it anyway. She popped the lid before closing the door, and seeing that it was all right, she walked over to the drawer of utensils and picked out a spoon, moving back into the living room. She stretched out her body on the couch, feeling all of the sore and tight muscles protesting. She could only do so many flips on stage, so much running from side to side and dancing before her body started to dislike her.

It was with a tired smile that she dug into the container of ice cream and reached for the television remote, putting it on some made for TV movie that she was sure to hate. One hand stole out for the afghan that was across the top of the couch, and it was tossed across her legs as she rolled onto her stomach and stared blankly at the television. The screen flickered, the story line went on, and the actors did something or other (most likely with a PC sex scene tossed in for the hell of it), but none of it registered in her mind. All she could think about was the ice cream, and another thought that had came into her mind for the past few weeks.

During the after party for the ACMAs, put on by the American Country Music Association, she and Lance had definitely enjoyed themselves. The drinks were free, the entertainment was awesome, and the conversations was what made everyone stay later than they had wanted. Lance and Brooklyn, in particular, expected to be out of there by midnight at the latest, but didn't end up leaving until at least three thirty in the morning. This time, Tim McGraw, who was probably the most shy and quiet person in the room, was the first one to jump atop of a table and start a pretend strip show. Even Brooklyn had jumped up there and joined along.

What the big thing was was that everyone seemed to be interested in her engagement, which wasn't a big surprise, but most of the questions were about JC and how well she had gotten along with him when they worked together. It wasn't a normal line of questioning normally at those types of parties, but she hadn't minded and told everything that she could, without embarrassing him.

The party, though, had gone fine. Brooklyn had finished drinking the free champagne and one mixed drink before switching to water for the rest of the evening, Lance following suit. She didn't think that she sat out a whole four dances the few hours that they were there, and she had enjoyed every single dance that she had, whether it had been her and one of the current top male artists, or if she had joined a group of friends and just danced while talking. Throughout the night, the DJ would occasionally play a song by someone in the room, but it was hard not to, with so many artists packed in one room, barely within the fire and safety codes. When those songs did play, for instance, a very old one of Brooklyn's, she had been urged onto the makeshift stage that was actually a table with a microphone laying on it, and told to sing. They had even convinced Lance to get up there once to do a very passable, if not fantastic version of Randy Travis's 'The Hole'. That was probably one of the highlights of the night.

As much as she had enjoyed being in Lance's company, and as much as she liked him, she couldn't help wondering what it would have been like to be there with JC, like she had wanted, but wasn't allowed. Would he have jumped ontop of the table to perform a country song? Would he have joined in the pseudo strip show? Would he have done as much circulating around the room as her and Lance had? Would she have spent the night dancing with him and teaching him the steps?

"You're delusional," she said to herself, interrupting herself once to yawn before the empty container of ice cream was put on the table. She rolled over and ignored the television, her mind racing with fantasies. Fantasies of the two of them at the party, dancing to one of the slow tunes that had played. Fantasies about being in his arms and...

"This isn't good. Stop it, Brooke. You're going to be married in just a little while, and you're thinking of what it would have been like to...ugh, just shut up."

Her mind listened, and shut itself down, her eyes drifting shut. Her dreams were all about her wedding, what was to be her big day, and this time, she had no trouble remembering who she was engaged to, and who she loved. No problem, whatsoever.


"Oh, just die," she muttered, rolling over. There was the most disgusting taste in her mouth, probably because she had slept so much, but it didn't bother her that much. Instead, she just rolled over like before, and closed her eyes again. The scene was eerily familiar, but instead of an alarm clock that wouldn't shut up, there was a different sound.

All at once, she realized that she was laying on the couch, and that the television was blaring something or other. She didn't remember setting the timer, until she thought about the fact that she set it for when she was on tour, just like how she had her lights on timers, so that it would look as if someone was there. Not that there was a point to it, considering every person in town knew her, and knew when she was gone and when she was in Belleview, but she was a creature of habit, and that was just one of her habits.

Again, the noise came. It took a little while to penetrate through her tired, almost exhausted brain. It was a sharp knock. "I will seriously murder anyone that is at my door right now. I don't care if it's God himself, I will strangle that person, and..." she trailed off when she opened the door, and a groan escaped her lips. "Great, it's you."

She tried to slam the door shut, but JC put his foot in the way and kept it open. Once it was like that, he pushed it open fully again and stepped into the house, dropping his bags on the ground. "Good morning to you, too, New York. I can tell that we're a happy person this morning."

Something unintelligible escaped her mouth as she stumbled back to the living room and collapsed on the couch. "You would be like this too, if you spent about eighteen hours on a plane, not including the time for layovers and transfers. I swear, I'm about to die." Her face buried again in her pillow. "Why couldn't you have shown up after I showered and got dressed. I look horrible."

A frown covered his face as he thought about her comment. "Sweetie, I've slept in the same bed as you. I think I know what you look like in the morning."

"That sounds so nasty."

"It's supposed to. Did you like it?"

Her head shook, face still hidden. She gave up on it after a little while and finally raised her head to look at him. Her eyes, very tired and old looking, were bloodshot, but the circles under her eyes had lessened over the night. One side of her face, from being pushed against the pillow, was red, but the most shocking part was her hair. What was usually brushed and sometimes styled to perfection was now flying all around her head, making it look like someone had tried to create an afro out of such long and straight hair. "Wow," was the only word he could say. Her head shook and a small smile appeared on her face as she thought about what Lance had said when she had opened her hotel room door.

Suddenly, the smile disappeared, and the tired look was back. "Is it that bad?" she asked, with a small sigh at the end.

JC tried to hold in his laughter as much as he could, and was practically shaking from the effort. All he wanted to do was let it out, but because he knew it would get her in an even worse mood than she was in now, he didn't dare. "No, I just wanted to make you think that it was that bad," he said with a little snicker. "So, the first leg of your tour is over. You have two more to go. How do you feel?"

Her middle finger lifted, although it couldn't even be considered as an obscene gesture by the way that it drooped and was unenthusiastic. It was a poor attempt at a rebuttal, but it was the best she could do right now. "Bite me. That's all I have to say. I really don't want to think about that. If I'm this tired after one leg, imagine what I'll be like at the end of the tour."

"You were fine when I met you, and that was a few days after your last tour finished," he said, watching as she tried to smooth down her hair. It didn't work at all.

Her shoulders moved in a shrug as she reached for the telephone. "I had a little vacation before the last four dates, so it wasn't as bad as it normally was, but I still had tour burn out. I haven't talked to you for a few days. Did you manage to get through to Alyssa's number?"

For the past month or so, Brooklyn had tried calling her maybe once a day, at least once every two days. She wanted, desperately, to ask her if she wanted to be one of Brooklyn's bridesmaid's, but she had to able to talk to her. Even her e-mail hadn't been responded to. After awhile, she asked JC to try a few times, thinking that there could be something wrong with her phone, and all the phones she had tried, even though it was unlikely, and every other call came through as clear as a bell. "No, I haven't. Are you sure she's not on vacation or something?"

Her head shook as she looked towards the clock while dialing. It would be late enough on the west coast to call her. She waited, as the phone started to ring, before sighing and giving up. "Damn it. I don't know where she is. I know that she's not working for the Tonight Show anymore, because that was just temporary, and I don't know where she was working after that, or else I would have called and asked. I can't seem to find her anywhere. I know that she would have taken her lap top with her if she was on vacation, because she's too much like me." Sighing, she turned onto her back on the couch and stared up at the ceiling. "I don't know what I'm going to do if I can't get ahold of her. This is ridiculous," she added, pouting slightly.

JC's eyes widened when he saw that. It wasn't often that she pouted, and when she did, he couldn't help thinking that it looked adorable, if anything. There wasn't a man alive that wouldn't be able to not give into that pout. He knew that he was ready to do anything that she asked him to. The pout wasn't directed to him, but it was adorable, nonetheless. "You mean, you don't have a backup?" he asked.

She looked over at him, almost incredulously. "We're talking about a wedding, not a football team. There is no second stringers. Unless you want to put on a dress and stand there with some flowers, I'm screwed if I can't get ahold of her. Ugh. Weddings suck."

"So, don't get married." Oh, wasn't that a wish. He only realized it when it escaped his mouth, but luckily, it had come out with enough humor in it to be seen as a joke. Brooklyn probably wouldn't have picked up on it anyway, considering the mood that she was in, but it wasn't like him to say something like that. Hell, why didn't he just tell her that he had feelings for her, got down on one knee, and proposed?

A small smile filtered on her face. It was better than nothing. "Yeah, that's an idea." Laughing, she stood up. "Well, you woke me up, I might as well cook some breakfast. It doesn't really even out, but hey, I'm a nice person."

"Sure," he said, drawing out the word as he stood up and followed her into the kitchen. "It's probably a good thing that I didn't eat on the plane, I guess." Her head nodded from where it was buried in the cupboards, before she emerged with a few pans. "Whoa, wouldn't Austin kick your ass if he found out you were using his stuff?"

Turning around, she brushed away the hair that flew in front of her face, and smiled brightly. "He's in France. He wouldn't notice. Besides, what he doesn't know can't hurt him." Like he hadn't heard those words before. They were the same ones that he repeated to himself all the time. What she doesn't know can't hurt her. It was true, he supposed, but it would definitely hurt him. Whenever she talked about Tim, whenever she mentioned the wedding...he was practically dreading the day that she was going to become his wife. That would hurt, but he wouldn't let it show, and he wouldn't let her know.

The feelings that he had been having towards her had been growing lately. Hadn't his mother always told him that absence makes that heart grow fonder, or something like that. It was turning out to be true, as much as he didn't want to admit it. Although he had admitted to himself that he liked her, if not falling in love with her (and they hadn't known each other that long, so that was a little ridiculous), but like hell he was going to admit it to anyone else. It was his little secret and he intended to keep it that way.

It didn't take all that long for breakfast to be on the table, with his help. Before long, they were sitting beside each other at the counter, digging into the scrambled eggs, sausages, and toast. "So, how long are you off, anyway?" she asked him after a little while, after she took a sip of coffee.

His eyes wandered over to the calendar on the wall and he counted off the days. "I'm actually here for three days, and I leave on the fourth, for a concert later that night. Why? Want to get in a little skating at the roller rink or something?" he asked her with a quick grin, causing her to smile back. What he wouldn't give to have her smile at him like that for the rest of his life.

"After the last experience...not really. I was just wondering how long you're going to be here for." She pushed away her empty plate and drained the rest of the her coffee. "I better go change the sheets on the bed if you're going to stay in Austin's room while you're here. Eh, I have to do it for the guest room, too." She was starting to stand when his hand shot out and rested on her wrist. She looked over at him, her green eyes filled with confusion. "What, you want to do it or something?" she asked humorously, before sitting back down.

JC took in a deep breath before looking at her. "New York, I already made reservations for a hotel in Nashville." His hand still hadn't moved from where it was, but neither seemed to mind.

Her mind was racing as she looked at him. Suddenly, a short laugh escaped her, and she stared at him. "Cute, JC. You've stayed here every time, except for the first time that we met. Actually, you spent a night here, too. It doesn't matter to me. I'd much rather have you around then think about you staying in Nashville without me." That was a surprise, she realized, as soon as she had said it.

It didn't matter, because JC didn't seem to notice. "It would just be smarter, if you think about it. Besides, it's not like I'm that far away, or that I'm wasting a lot of money."

"Yes, it does matter," she countered, her voice rising. Her eyes widened, and her eyebrows went up. He was really in for it now. "You know that I could care less about the money thing, but the part about you being far away? Maybe it's just me being selfish, but I happen to like it when you stay here. I happen to like to know that you're either across the hall from me, or just down. I happen to know that you would be eating breakfast, lunch, and dinner with me. I don't even care if you make a big mess out of the house, or if you eat all the food. I would more than glady clean up and buy more food if you were here. My God, since when did this come on."

When she looked at him, she could see that this was obviously difficult for him. He didn't want this, she didn't want this, so why was this even happening? "Brooklyn," he began, using her real name, which was shocking all by itself, "don't you remember what happened last time I was here? The infamous fist fight that happened on the front lawn? I don't want a repeat of that, and you just came back from your tour, so you're going to want to spend time with Tim."

Her eyes rolled and she finally pulled her wrist away from him. Turning to look forward, her voice was very icy. "Why everyone thinks that this ring on my finger means that I have to spend all of my time with him, I'll never know. You know that I don't take to people that tell me what to do."

"I'm not telling you what to do," he said, sighing. "New York, it would just be very uncomfortable. You know that it would be. Tim doesn't like me, and at this point, and I'm sorry, I don't like him very much. You can't fault me for that, but I really don't want to have a repeat. It hurt you enough the first time, I don't want to see what it would do the second time." He fell silent and leaned on his elbow, staring at her profile. "I'm sorry. I didn't think that it would be this big of a deal for you."

Now she looked over at him, her eyes blazing. "Yes, it is a big deal. I'm going to take a shower and get dressed. When I come down, I'll drive you to the hotel, because there isn't any reason why you should spend about a hundred dollars on a cab ride. You know where everything is," she spat out, before standing and stalking out of the kitchen.

His eyes closed for a moment, before they opened and he stood up, reaching for the empty dishes. Stacking them in his hands, he carried them over to the sink and ran some water, cleaning them off quickly before she turned on the shower upstairs. As soon as he heard the water running, he walked into the living room, looking around.

There was no way that he could help himself, he thought as he walked towards her music room, the one that barely anyone was allowed in. He pushed open the door and took in a deep breath, regretting it the moment that he noticed the stuffy air. Shaking his head, he wandered around the room, taking in the old, almost ratty couch in the corner that she loved to curl up on and strum her guitar. He walked over to it and brushed his hand across the top.

Turning around, something caught his eye. He hadn't noticed it the first time that he was there, because the sunlight hadn't filtered through the curtains and hit the display, making it shine and sparkle. His feet moved slowly towards it, and he pulled over a small stool to sit down and look at the awards in front of him. He was almost astounded at the amount.

There were ACMA awards, the most recent sticking out. He didn't dare touch it for some reason. Instead, he just stared at it, at the words in script that said she had won for best album. His eyes moved on to the rest. CMA awards, Music City News awards, Billboard awards, even a Juno for International Artist, as well as an International Artist from the CCMAs, which he knew was Canada's premier country music award show.

Some had her name on them, like the Juno. Some just said what she had won for, and what year. There was at least one award for every year since she had started, beginning with the ACMA new artist, as well as a few other new artist awards. He knew that she had been honored quite a few times, but he didn't realize that she had been honored that many times. The only thing that was missing was a Grammy award, and there had been rumors that she was up for a Grammy or two.

"I keep them in here only because the feelings behind them are too...personal to share with a lot of people," her voice said from behind him. He turned quickly. "It doesn't matter. I don't mind you being in here. You understand what's behind all of this. Not a lot of people can understand or even begin to fathom that."

His shoulders moved in a slight shrug. "I don't know how I ended up in here, but I did want to see the new award." Not that the acceptance and performances hadn't been burned into his brain. He had watched it on tape over and over, admiring how she looked, how she sounded, and that speech. He felt like he should be bowing down at her feet for even considering mentioning him. "I'm sorry. I haven't congratulated you yet."

She was the one that shrugged now. "I didn't expect you to. It must seem like nothing compared to the Grammy's or other award shows that you go to, but it means a lot to me."

"I know how big it is for you," he said, standing up. His hands ran through his hair before he looked back at her. "I didn't know that you were at the Billboard awards last year. I never saw you there."

Nodding, she leaned against the door frame. "Yeah, that was quite an experience. I didn't stay for any of the parties afterwards. Those were the days that I couldn't stay up past midnight to save my soul. Now, it comes too easily. I think I remember seeing you, but I could be wrong."

Finally, he had made his way over to her, and it was without hesitation that he bent down and wrapped his arms around her. She hesitated for a moment before following his movements, and resting her head against him. "I'm sorry that I wasn't able to call you. I didn't have the time, but I did manage to catch the show. You looked beautiful, and you sounded even better."

"Thank you." They didn't move for a little while. JC didn't want to move at all, but he was hoping that Brooklyn would. It was getting harder and harder to remember that they were supposed to be 'just friends' while he was holding her. It took all of his power not to give into his feelings, and do something that they would both regret later on. His teeth were practically grinding together, and his eyes were closed, so that he couldn't see even a little part of her.

She was the one the break the contact, and he was more than thankful. "We better get going. I have to be back in time to have dinner with Tim...damn, this means that you and I can't hang out tonight."

He grinned brightly, pushing away one wet lock away from her face. He loved the way that she never blow dried her hair, but instead, let it dry naturally, making her look even more adorable. "No, we can't, but this means that you and I can have lunch in Nashville today, and we can hang out for a little while before I leave, can't we?"

"Can we go somewhere other than the diner?" she asked suddenly. It was a question that he definitely was not expected. His eyebrows rose as high as possible. "It's not that I don't want to go there, but I'm a little too tired to tell everyone about the tour so far, and that's what everyone is going to want to hear. I'm sure that they can wait another day."

They started out of the room, and Brooklyn closed the door quietly behind her, letting anyone else that came into the house know that they weren't allowed in that certain room. Side by side, they made their way to the foyer, where she bent down to put on her shoes and pick a jacket from the choices on the rack. It was the same leather jacket that she had come home wearing from her long trip. JC helped her put it on, before he picked up his bags and followed her outside, tossing them into the back of the truck.

Turning to look at her, he smiled as he climbed in the truck. "I'm sorry about before, New York, it just seems like the right thing to do. A lot of things have changed since you put on that ring."

"Don't I know it," she said, starting the engine. "That's all right. I understand, and I don't fault you for it. Sometimes, I just wish that you weren't so compassionate, because it's going to be a very boring, long night after my dinner tonight. You don't know how much I want you to be staying at my place."

Turning to look out the window, he sighed as he watched her house disappear from sight. "Not as much as I want to stay," he whispered over the roar of the wind from the open windows. She didn't hear him, anyway.


They were both laughing as they walked out of the small restaurant, not being able to hold it in anymore. "I can't believe that one guy. That was wild," she giggled, looping her arm through his. "Like, of my God, are you...you are? Like, oh my God!" she squealed in a very un-Brooklyn like voice.

He grinned, chuckling. As she started to laugh harder, she held onto his arm tighter. It was pure paradise in his mind. "At least you weren't the one that got that routine. I was the one that had to put up with the squealing." Shuddering, they stopped before walking across the street, waiting for the light to change.

"It's people like that that make me embarrassed to be female. Talk about an airhead."

"I wouldn't talk, New York." Brooklyn stopped as soon as they crossed the street and stared at him, her hand slipping away from his arm. Her arms crossed, and she let her mouth open a little. "Don't give me that look. You know that you're not the smartest person in the world," he added, smiling brightly before walking further.

With a frustrated groan, she followed after him and grabbed onto his arm, stopping him again. "You have to be...." she trailed off and a frown covered her face. Slowly, her hand dropped away and she looked at him. "Just to warn you, JC, there's a photographer sitting right there on the bench. I thought he looked familiar."

He looked out of the corner of his eye but didn't see anything. "How can you tell?"

"The reflection off of his lens. It caught my eye. He's followed me around before. No big deal." She sighed and blew the hair off of her forehead. "Do you want to keep going the way we were, or do you want to try and lose him for the hell of it?" she asked, winking at him.

It didn't take him very long to decide what to do. He crossed his arms and looked around the street, as if looking for someone. "Let's lose the idiot."

With a giggle, she walked beside him, a grin on her face. "Ready? On three. One...two...three!" she shouted, taking off before he had a chance. Laughing, JC followed her closely, as they started to dodge people on the street. It was almost like the day they were at the roller rink, without the roller skates and blades. Instead, he kept his eye on Brooklyn's retreating back before he was running beside her, stride for stride. "This way," she said, jerking her thumb towards a small store. She burst in the door and smiled at the person behind the counter. "Hey, Mary. Thanks, Mary. Bye, Mary." She pulled JC by the wrist when she saw the photographer passing the shop on the street before he caught sight of them.

They turned the corner and went out an open back door before cutting through an alley. "Where to next?" he asked, stopping for a moment to catch his breath.

"That way." They started off again, and cut across another alley until the hotel he was staying at was in sight. Her truck was parked in the parking lot, gleaming in the light. Their feet pounded as they ran across a street of traffic and headed towards the front door. "Wow, that was fun." She looked around, her green eyes sparkling with excitement. "Yup, we lost him."

He laughed, leaning against the wall beside the door, closing his eyes as he took a few deep breaths. "You can run pretty fast." Her eyes narrowed, waiting for the rest. "For a girl."

Her fist shot out and caught him on the upper arm. "Thanks, JC. You're pretty fast too...compared to a girl." She smiled sweetly before running her hands through her wind blown hair. "I better head out. I still have to get ready for tonight. Are you going to call me in the morning?" Her voice was low, almost shy, but he could understand that. Normally, he would come down to the kitchen in the morning, not call her on the phone.

"Yeah, we'll get breakfast or lunch or something. Hell, why not both?" She laughed, tucking her hair behind her ears. He looked at her closely, mostly at her eyes. The golden flecks in them that shone in the sunlight. The sparkle that looked purely mischievous at the moment. The emerald color that looked like they were made of two expensive jewels. Finally, he shook his head and stuck his hands in his pockets. He felt like it was his first date as a teenager, and he was nervous about getting in a quick kiss on the porch before his date's parents turned on the light and opened the door. "Well, I better get in. I still have to call the guys and tell them that I landed safely and all that. Call me tonight after your date?"

"Sure. I'll just pretend that you're Mia, but that you're actually listening at the same time. Have a good day, night...whatever." Leaning forward, she looped her arms around his waist, hugging him tightly. "I'm glad that you came out."

He nodded, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. That was difficult enough. "Me, too." They stood like that for another moment, before he pulled away and smiled. "Go get all prettied up for your date." Her hair had fallen from behind her ears again, and she impatiently went to push it back. His hands stopped her and he smiled. "New York, do me a favor. Tomorrow, leave your hair just the way it is. Either that way or up. You look cuter like that."

Her cheeks flushed and she leaned forward, kissing his cheek. He would remember the texture of his lips against his skin for the rest of his life. She rubbed away the little bit of lip gloss before smiling again. "Thanks. I think I'm going to keep you around. You're better on the ego than Lance. I'll talk to you later!" she called, jogging towards her truck. She jumped in the cab and waved, pulling out of the parking lot.

He stood there for a few more moments, watching her truck disappear before hitting his head lightly against the wall. "Damn it. She better get married soon, or else I'm not going to last," he groaned to himself before disappearing into the hotel.


She smiled in the mirror and picked up another bobby pin that was decorated with fake diamonds. She pushed it into her hair, pinning up the last little coil before she readjusted the hair on the back of her head to give it more of a puffy look. Already thirty of the matching pins were pushed into her hair, making it sparkle in the dim lamp light of her room.

Standing up, she smoothed out the sparkly black top she was wearing, along with a long black skirt. "Well, they say that black is slimming," she whispered to herself before pushing on her black cowboy boots. She needed a little bit of country flair with her outfit before she felt better about it. At the same time, the doorbell rang. "Come in," she shouted out of her door, stepping back to the mirror to see what she looked like. Nodding to herself, she picked up the matching black sparkly purse and walked out of her room, closing the door. She headed down the stairs, just in time to hear Tim whistle under his breath.

"That outfit looks fantastic on you," he said, smiling as she came down the stairs. He kissed her cheek, and she smiled hesitantly. Whatever happened to the days that he would kiss her hand, she wondered. She loved the gesture but it wasn't happening anymore.

"Thank you," she said, looking him over. They matched quite well that evening, and she hadn't even known what he was going to wear. She loved how the black suit and the silver tie looked on him. "You look great yourself. I think the appropriate term is...dead sexy?" she asked with a chuckle.

He grinned back, before his eyes squinted and he looked at her hair. "What did you do with your hair?"

Turning around so that he could see, she smiled to herself. "Do you like it? It didn't take very long, but I like it. I bought the pins to match the shirt," she said with another chuckle, thinking of how stupid that sounded. Since when did he care about things like that.

She turned back to face him. "It looks fine, I guess, but...can I be honest?" he asked as he opened the door for her. She followed him out into the balmy night, walking towards his car.

"Of course. I expect you to be honest. In fact, I expect no less."

He nodded and walked to the driver's side before opening up her door. She rolled her eyes to herself before opening her own door and slipping in. "Well...it's just that, the style would look a lot better if your neck wasn't quite so long."

Her eyebrows rose to astronomical heights. "Tim, my neck isn't that long, and besides, don't you remember Audrey Hepburn? She was known for her long regal neck. In other words, I'm going to take that as a compliment and not a diss."

"Brooke, I wasn't trying to diss you, as you put it." Always with the proper language, she realized. Sometimes, she wondered if she was dating a reincarnated English teacher. "It's just...people are going to stare at you now. Other guys are going to stare at you."

"Is that so wrong? It's flattering. It makes a woman feel good." She smiled and pushed her bangs off of her face. "Tim, don't worry. It's not like I'm going to run away with some nameless guy or something. I just...I think it's nice that someone looks at me like that."

A scowl appeared on his face as he started out of Belleview. "What, JC and I aren't enough for you?"

She sighed, pursing her lips. "I'm not even going to dignify most of that with an answer. I do like having you look at me like that, though," she said, smiling before she touched his arm, almost flirtatiously. He grinned back before stepped on the gas pedal.

The rest of the ride was quiet as she stared out the window before they pulled up to her favorite restaurant, the one that her brother worked at before she sent him off to France. The valet helped her out of her side before he took the keys from Tim and gave him a ticket. They walked up the steps together, her hand entwined in his. "I haven't been here in a few months. This is so nice," she gushed, kissing his cheek quickly before they walked in the door.

The hostess recognized her immediately, and checked around the restaurant for a table in a corner, slightly shaded from the rest. "This way, Brooke. How's Austin, by the way?" she asked as they headed towards the table.

"He called me a few days ago before I came back. He's doing pretty good, and apparently, he's acing most of his classes, not that I should be surprised. He's taking four right now."

"That was so sweet of you to send him away. And you look great tonight. He wouldn't have let you out of the house. Take advantage of the fact that he's gone, will you?" Brooklyn laughed as she sat down, pulling her chair up to the table. She left them with menus and promised that their waiter would be around in a few moments. Brooklyn skimmed over the menu, even though she knew it by heart from all the times that Austin would change the recipes for the week. She had it down to a science by now.

Closing it, she put it on the table beside her plate. "There is no way that I'm going to pass up the shrimp and pasta combo," she said, sighing as she rested the edge of her elbows on the table. "You know, we have a lot to talk about. I've worked on a lot of the plans for the wedding, but not everything is done. I can't get ahold of Alyssa, that girl I met out in California, to save my life. I don't know why she doesn't answer the phone or return my e-mails. If worst comes to worst, I can find someone to fill in. I already told you that I'm going to have three bridesmaids, right?" she asked.

He nodded quickly, taking a sip of the water that had been poured by a passing waiter that wasn't theirs. "Yeah. I'm still picking out who I want to be up there, but I have something to ask you afterwards, anyway. Go on."

"Well, I'm having Mia and Faith up there, because Faith would kill me if she wasn't part of the ceremony," she added with a laugh. "I wanted to have Allie there, but if I can't get ahold of her...I don't know. Maybe LeAnn Rimes. We're still friends, even if she is trying to get out of her contract at Curb of Nashville."

A forced smile covered his face as soon as she had mentioned Mia. That wasn't the name he was expecting to hear. "Okay. I have two friends that are flying in from California to stand up for me, but...the thing that I wanted to talk to you about." He lowered his voice so that no one could hear. "I feel really bad about what happened between me and JC outside of your house. I mean, really sorry. I shouldn't have flown off the handle like that." He stopped as soon as the waiter showed up, and they ordered their food and drinks before he left. "This is going to sound sort of weird, but I wanted to ask you about it beforehand." She nodded slowly, wishing he would just hurry up. "I want to make it up to him somehow, and apologizing is not going to work. I know how close you two are, so this is a big deal. I was wondering...what would you think if I asked him to be my best man?"

Again, the eyebrows raised high, and she stared at him for a moment. "Tim, you have to be kidding me."

"I'm not," he said, looking at her reaction.

She squealed softly, not wanting to attract any attention before she leaned across the small table and kissed him. "Oh my God. I can't believe it. You have to be the sweetest man alive. I would love you to do that, but really, it's your choice, and you shouldn't do it just for me." She took a deep breath and smiled again. "I have to admit that you took me by surprise. I really didn't expect you to say that. You are fantastic. It would mean so much to me if you could put this whole fight thing aside. I'm sure that you guys would get along so well," she finished, smiling at him.

"So, what else about the wedding?"

Her fingers moved to touch the diamond ring that she wore everywhere now, and smiled back at him. "Well, I still have to pick out a church. I'm going to do that sometime before I go back on tour. I need to decide what caterer I'm going to use, but I was going to ask if this place could do it. I'm sure they wouldn't mind, really. I have to fly Austin out for the wedding, but that's during the break in semesters at his school. What else? Oh, I have to make flower arrangements and do some dress shopping, because I haven't picked out my dress yet. I know what I want it to look like, though."

He frowned when he heard that. "I thought that you were going to have a designer dress made for you?"

"I thought about it, but I'm spending enough money as it is. I think I'll do fine with picking one out. I know that somewhere, there has to be the perfect dress. I have to get all the girls together to go shopping for dresses, too," she added. "Please don't forget to make an appointment for a tuxedo fitting. Don't leave it for the last minute."

"Don't worry. I've got everything covered." He smiled brightly at her and reached for her hand across the table. "I can't wait for that day. You're going to look so beautiful." He didn't dare add that he couldn't wait to be that rich, either.


"Damn it, I have to see if she can hurry that date along," Tim groaned as he dropped down on his couch. His eyes immediately went over to the picture sitting ontop of his television. Brooklyn grinned back at him, on his back. She looked perfect in that picture, with her normal million dollar smile. The million dollar part was the most accurate of the whole phrase. Still, he thought that she was gorgeous. Why else would he marry her? Not only would he take over her finances, but he would also be seen on the arm of one of the most beautiful women in the world. What else could be better? Nothing, in his opinion.

It had just been another part of his plan to have JC be his best man at the wedding. When he had planned out when he was going to propose, he immediately thought that he would ask Austin to stand up for him. JC and Brooklyn had gotten close too quickly, in his opinion. His was the one that mattered, too. She trusted the singer far too easily, and how long did it take for Tim to work on her trust with him? A very long time, if he remembered correctly.

He closed his eyes and covered them with one hand, loosening his tie with the other. Sometimes, he thought that he picked the wrong woman to pull this off on. Brooklyn was nothing like he expected her to be. It would have been a hell of a lot easier if she hadn't turned out to be so intelligent and so bright. He really had to work at everything to make her believe his long list of lies and promises that were sure to be broken. The only good thing about her was that she never spent her money. He didn't know how much she was worth, but it was enough, he decided, and with the new contract that she was going to sign, it was going to be even more. It all works out, he told himself.

The main kink in his plans was JC. He wasn't blind. He could tell that JC had been falling for her, and he had been falling for a long time. It was turning into a little more than a crush, too. He saw the way he had looked at her that afternoon, following them around town. He had seen the way he would touch her or what tone of voice he had used. It was surprising that Brooklyn hadn't picked up on it yet. "I thought she was smart, but obviously not this way," he told himself.

Well, that had to be true. She hadn't picked up on the fact that he didn't love her, but he definitely did a good job of pretending to love her. All those acting classes in high school had paid off, apparently.

Maybe he did love her, though, in a certain way. She definitely held a special place in his heart, even if she will just be known as the first in a long string of women that he would marry and later divorce for all of her money. It wasn't that bad of a job, he decided. It was actually kind of fun. He was enjoying himself throughout everything he had done so far.

Still, it was JC that was bothering him. He knew that Brooklyn would never call off the engagement because she loved someone else. She wasn't the type of person to break a promise, and wasn't that ring just a promise? A promise to be by her side forever? Too bad it wasn't going to be forever.

"I've taken people out of the picture before. I can do it again. It's not that hard," he muttered to himself, in the silence of his apartment. No, it wouldn't be that hard. In fact, he almost had the perfect plan, he just had to work on it a little. It was chancy, and very dangerous, but that was all part of the job requirement. Besides, he wasn't afraid of anything.

Mia was a minor character in his elaborate play. Brooklyn respected her, but she wouldn't listen to her. Faith Hill and LeAnn Rimes? They would be push overs. Just lay on the charm and he would be fine. Hell, they'd probably gush to Brooklyn about him. Austin couldn't do anything to stop them, which had already been shown. He had heard all about that morning when she went home on New Years Day. This Lance guy that she went to the awards with wasn't even part of the picture. Just like Alyssa. She wasn't part of the picture.

Where the hell did her parents get off naming her Brooklyn, he wondered. He had heard the story of her unique name, although it wasn't that unique. Every Brooklyn that he had heard of before this had been men. This was the first female Brooklyn that he had encountered. It did have a nice sound to it. Of course, Brooklyn Arizona Croft had a nice sound to it, too. "Still, Brooklyn Arizona? What were her parents smoking then? Stupid question. I already know what her mom was smoking...and shooting." Conceived in New York, born in Phoenix. Brooklyn Arizona. It would be like someone going to a Star Trek convention and naming their kid Spock.

"It doesn't matter. Brooklyn Arizona won't be that important after awhile. All I have to do is stay a month and put away as much of that money as I can in an off shores account. The Cayman Islands. Everything untraceable there. It'll be no problem. She'll become the first woman to marry, and the first woman to crush. Easy as pie."


Chapter Eighteen
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