Worth the Fall (Sugar Mountain #1)

NO TRICKS, JUST TREATS

THOMAS

I ’d made good on my promise to Brooklyn and not ignored her or avoided her at work since the other night. What I had done, however, was keep all contact professional and pretend like I’d never kissed her lips, even though it replayed in my mind a thousand times a day. I wondered if it was killing her the same way that it was killing me.

If it was, she didn’t fucking act like it. She walked around the resort like absolutely nothing had changed, greeting me with a megawatt smile before heading back into her office, that ass of hers shaking the whole time, like she knew I was watching.

She probably did.

My phone rang at my desk, and I glanced at it, noticing that it was my dad’s office line calling. My assistant answered and put him on hold before I shouted to her that I had it.

Pressing the flashing button, I answered, “Hey, Dad.”

“Meet me in my office,” he said, his tone a little undecipherable.

“Be right down.” I hung up.

When I stepped into the hallway, I practically bowled over Brooklyn.

“Oh, Thomas. Sorry.”

My eyes shot to hers, the look in them unmistakable. She still wanted me. But wanting each other wasn’t the problem.

“It was my fault,” I said.

“It kind of was,” she agreed with a grin, that smart-ass mouth delivering barbs, like usual.

I tried to maneuver around her right as she tried to move around me. We ended up going in the same direction, still blocking one another’s paths. A laugh escaped from somewhere deep in me as I stopped and extended my hand.

“Ladies first,” I said, trying to be chivalrous, but it came out sounding like I was some douche on The Bachelor .

“Thanks.” She glanced back at me, and I could tell she wanted to say more. Her lips pursed together before she added, “Tell Clara happy Halloween for me. And to keep all the good candy for herself.”

I should ask her to join us. Beg her to come. The words were on the tip of my tongue, but I bit them back instead. The battle between wanting her with us all the time and giving her the space she so clearly needed warred inside me.

“I’ll tell her,” I said as she started to walk away, and I stood there, gaping after her like some lovesick fool.

It was torture to realize how badly I wanted more than friendship with this woman. I wanted it all with her. But she’d made it pretty obvious that she still wasn’t healed from her marriage ending. She struggled with guilt and blame, and I was all too familiar with how destructive those feelings could be inside your own head. They weren’t something that I could fuck right out of her system, even though I’d considered trying.

Lifting her off my lap when I’d wanted to bury myself inside of her was a test in willpower I wasn’t sure I’d survive at the time. It’d almost killed me to move her away.

But I couldn’t sleep with her and then carry on like nothing had happened. Or pretend like I was fine with being friends with benefits or some shit like that. Because I wasn’t. And I never would be. Plus, Clara and I deserved more than someone who could come and go in and out of our lives like the wind. I’d been careless to let her into our world without knowing what she was ready for. I should have guessed that since she’d just gotten out of a relationship, she wouldn’t want to hop straight into another one.

But then again, I’d fallen without realizing it or meaning to. There’d been no hope for me when it came to this woman. My daughter was attached. I was attached. And now, I had to do my best to pretend like I was perfectly fine with just being friends with her when the reality was that I could see my whole damn future every time I looked in her eyes.

Shaking my head to clear the battle raging within, I started toward my dad’s office. Brooklyn was in the reception area, talking to our concierge about something. She turned her head, as if sensing me. And when her green eyes locked on to mine, I wanted to believe that she saw a future when she looked at me too. But I couldn’t risk being wrong about that. Not when my heart wasn’t the only one on the line.

Putting my head down, I broke our eye contact and walked to my dad’s office. I knocked on the already-open door, and his head shot up. He waved me in and motioned for me to shut the door behind me.

“Come here,” he said.

I walked to where he sat behind the desk where his father had sat before him.

When I stood behind him, he pointed at his computer screen, and I saw a paused oversize image of me at the saloon. Apparently, that damn video had circulated all over Sugar Mountain.

“I’ve watched this thing ten times already,” he said with a laugh before pressing play and making me watch it with him one more time. Then, he turned to give me a fist pound.

I’d never in my life given my dad a fist pound. I wasn’t even sure where he’d learned it.

It was surreal. And weird.

I fucking hated it.

I stepped back from where I stood behind him and leaned against the desk, facing him instead.

“I’ve already talked to the chief. He says you’ll be fine if this asshole wants to try to press charges. They won’t stick,” he informed me with a proud grin.

I wasn’t sure how or why not. The video clearly showed me shoving Eli and then hitting him and then standing over him in a threatening way. This thing could get really bad, really quick. I’d have no defense other than defending Brooklyn, and I wasn’t sure that was enough.

“I don’t think he will, but you never know,” I said, not sure I quite believed what I was saying. I didn’t know this guy any better than I knew a stranger on the street. “Thanks for making that call to the chief though,” I said, appreciative that my dad had taken the reins on that one. It had been tossed to the back of my mind since the second Brooklyn had left my house.

“See you tonight for candy?” He acted like he was reminding me, but I nodded with a grin.

“Yep. I’ll text you when we’re heading over.” I pushed off the desk and started to head out.

“Brooklyn coming?” he asked, and I stopped short.

“Why would she?”

He just shrugged and pointed at the computer screen. “Figured if you were punching her ex-husband, there had to be a reason for it.”

“There was. He was being a dick.”

“That’s the only reason?” His bushy silver eyebrows rose, and I knew he was pushing for more, but there wasn’t anything to tell him.

“It was reason enough.”

“If you say so, son.” He sat there, grinning like he held all the world’s secrets and couldn’t wait for me to figure them out.

It was annoying.

I left work a little early so I could get ready for the evening with Clara. She needed to eat actual food before we filled her belly with sugar. When I walked through the garage door and into the house, I smelled something I couldn’t put my finger on.

“Dad! You’re home early!” I heard Clara shout as she ran to greet me in the hall.

Her little hands wrapped around my legs, and I bent down to scoop her up.

She was getting so big.

“Glo-Glo the Pumpkin Queen made us bread!”

That was what I’d smelled.

“It smells delicious,” I said as I put my squirming eight-year-old on the ground.

“Thomas, I made fresh sourdough and some chicken noodle soup, but Clara refuses to eat it,” Mrs. Green informed me.

“But I’m not sick.” Clara whipped her head to look at me.

“Who said you were sick?” I asked through my confusion.

Clarabel was typically a pretty good eater and tried at least everything I put in front of her. That didn’t mean she liked it all, but she wasn’t the kind of kid who refused to eat something for no reason.

“That’s what I’m saying. I’m not sick. We don’t eat chicken noodle soup unless we’re sick. Right, Daddy? That’s sick-people food.” She was dead serious.

I laughed. “I mean, it’s not sick-people food. It’s comfort food,” I said before realizing that she most likely only ate it whenever she had a fever or in the days after Pukegate. I wasn’t a big soup guy. “But you’re right. You’ve probably only eaten it when you weren’t feeling great.”

“See, Glo-Glo,” Clara said with a soft shrug.

“I understand now.” Mrs. Green gave her a pat on the head. “That’s why I also prepped everything for grilled cheeses.”

Clara started clapping. “Yes! Grilled cheese with your brand-new bread! Yum!”

Mrs. Green looked at me, and I told her I was sorry.

She waved me off. “It’s no big deal. I’ll put the soup in a Tupperware. You can bring it over to your dad if you don’t think you’ll eat it.”

“Are you sure you don’t want it? You could take it home with you,” I offered, feeling like a wasteful ass.

“I already have some. You go see your dad tonight, right? Bring it there. One of you O’Grady men will eat it.” She smiled.

“You’re not wrong about that,” I agreed.

“Okay. I’m going to head out. Have fun tonight. Make sure you stop by my house so I can give you your special goody bag,” Mrs. Green said to Clara.

“I will. I promise!”

I walked with Mrs. Green toward the front door. “Thank you. I’m sorry again about the soup.”

“Thomas, it’s okay. Stop worrying so much. I’ll see you later,” she said before walking outside.

I waited at the door until she got into her house, turned on the light, and waved at me through her window.

My brothers both came barreling into the house about thirty minutes later. Clara and I had already eaten our dinner, and I was in the process of attempting to do her good-witch makeup, which I had absolutely zero experience with, thank you very much.

It was helpful that she didn’t want anything except for some sparkly blush and sticker jewels around her eyes. But my heart pinched when I added the black lipstick, seeing my daughter with any kind of makeup on her perfect little face.

It was too soon. I had a feeling it always would be.

“We’re upstairs!” I shouted as I heard the two of them making a ruckus downstairs, followed by pounding footsteps that didn’t sound human.

“Jasper!” Clara shouted as soon as the dog found us in her tiny bathroom. She wrapped both arms around his neck, and he stood there, letting her do it while she nuzzled and kissed him, ruining her lipstick in the process.

“I brought the dog,” Patrick said as he walked in, eyeballing the scene in front of him.

“I see that.” My tone came out annoyed, but it was due more to the fact that I needed to reapply the damn lipstick than anything else.

“Don’t be grumpy about it. You have Clarabel, and now, I have Jasper,” Patrick said as soon as Matthew entered, beer in hand.

“And what do I have? Nothing and no one.” He pouted as Clara stuck out her hip to pin him with a disapproving glare.

“You always have beer,” she announced.

I bit back a laugh as he ran to her and scooped her in his arms.

“You little devil,” he said, and she wiggled away, out of his grasp.

“I’m a witch, Uncle. Not a devil. I’ll put a spell on you,” she teased.

“Oh no, not a spell,” he said with a smile as he threw up his hands in surrender.

“It would be a good one though since I’m a good witch. A loooove spell,” she said, dragging out the word. “On a person though. Not for beer. I already put one on Daddy.”

I whipped my head around, my eyes wide with shock. “You did what?”

She grinned and giggled. “I put a love spell on you and Waffle Princess, Daddy.”

Patrick reared his head back at the same time Matthew hollered, “Who is Waffle Princess? Does she have a sister?”

“Brooklyn. She means Brooklyn,” I said with a grimace.

This was exactly what I had been worried about. I’d already fallen for the woman, and my daughter was putting imaginary love spells on us.

“Ooh,” Matthew crooned. “I hope your spell works.”

“Me too!” Clara hopped around, and my heart felt like it dropped to the pit of my stomach.

“You’re my favorite witch. Even if you have smeared lipstick.” Matthew grinned at my daughter before tapping her nose with his finger.

“Oh no.” She jumped up on the vanity and looked in the mirror as she frowned. “I think I got it on Jasper. I’m sorry, Uncle Patrick.”

“It’s okay. I’m sure he likes it,” Patrick said as he patted his dog’s big head.

“Out. Let me fix her lipstick, and we’ll be right down.” I pointed at the door and waited for them all to get out of the crowded space and give me room. “Take the dog.”

“So mean to my new best friend,” Patrick whined before slapping his thigh, and Jasper promptly ran to his side like he’d been doing it his whole dog life.

Clara hopped off the vanity, walked up to me as I sat on top of the bathtub edge, and put both her hands on my cheeks. “Be nicer to Jasper. He’s a good boy, Daddy. I love him.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” I said, and she grinned.

“I’m sorry I did a spell on you and Miss Brooklyn. Are you mad?”

“Of course not,” I said, wondering how to navigate this without breaking her heart. “But not all spells work all the time. You know that, right?”

She shrugged. “It’s a love spell, Daddy. Those always work.”

I had no response, so I sucked in a deep breath and narrowed my gaze to look at her messed-up lipstick. It was times like this when I wished Clara had a female figure in her life. Even if just to help with the makeup.

“Okay, now, stand still so I can do your lipstick again.”

She tried to be still, but she fidgeted. And closed and opened her mouth while I was trying to put it across her lips. Something that should have been super easy to accomplish was anything but.

“All done,” I said once I finally finished. “You need help getting the rest of your costume on?”

“Nope. I can do it. But if I can’t, I’ll shout for help.”

“Okay. I’ll be downstairs.”

I walked out of the bathroom and headed downstairs to where my brothers sat on the couch in front of the television. It was playing some basketball game, but the volume was muted.

“I’m going to dread the day she doesn’t want us to come with her,” Patrick said with a frown. “Can you imagine it? When she wants to go with all her friends instead of us?” He ran his fingers through his hair. It was getting long.

“Stop it. I can’t stomach hearing that,” Matthew said as he took a pull of his beer. “Talk about something else. Anything else.”

“Let’s talk about that video of Thomas kicking that guy’s ass,” Patrick said with a grin because aside from a handful of text messages, we hadn’t addressed this topic in person yet.

“It’s his fault.” I thumbed toward Matthew. “He’s the one who called me in the first place.”

Patrick nodded. “I saw him on the video too.”

“Look, it was either have Thomas come down to the saloon and shut the guy up or I was going to do it. And since he was Brooklyn’s ex, I figured T would want to be the one,” Matthew explained to Patrick since I’d already known all of this.

“That’s fair. So, how’d Brooklyn take it? I’m assuming she’s seen the video since I had it sent to me about twenty-five times,” Patrick asked.

“She was here when it happened,” I said, looking right at him since Matthew already knew this part.

“ Here , here? Like, at the house?” Patrick asked for clarification.

“Yeah. We had dinner together that night.”

“That makes more sense about the spell,” he added, and I grimaced.

“Please tell me you finally took your dick out of hiatus,” Matthew said crudely as he shifted on the couch. The same one where I’d made out with Brooklyn a couple of days earlier.

I rolled my eyes. “I did not. But we kissed. A lot.”

“What are you, fifteen?” Matthew chastised, and I wanted to hit him.

“Hey, it’s a good start. Kissing leads to sex,” Patrick added before contradicting himself. “Sometimes. Maybe? He’s got to start somewhere.”

“Yeah, I don’t know if it’s gonna work out, fellas,” I said, not really knowing what else to say. I wasn’t in the mood to get into some sort of wild and deep discussion right now. Not when Clara was coming down at any second, ready to go trick-or-treating.

“What do you mean, you don’t know if it’s going to work out? What happened? If I were a chick and I saw what you did, I’d be dying to jump your bones after that,” Matthew said.

Even though that’s pretty much what Brooklyn had told me when I walked through the door that night, things hadn’t ended the same way they’d started.

“She’s not ready for anything serious.”

That one sentence explained it all, in my opinion.

“Did she actually say that?” Patrick’s face scrunched together in disbelief.

“I mean, not in those exact words, but basically, yeah. Yes,” I said, hoping they’d back off, but knowing damn well that they wouldn’t.

“You’re an idiot,” Matthew said in response.

“How so?” My defenses were rising already. This was exactly what I’d hoped to avoid.

“You’re making assumptions. It’s so obvious that she’s into you,” Patrick added.

“Physically maybe,” I agreed because Brooklyn being into me wasn’t the issue.

“What’s wrong with that?” Matthew asked.

“I want more,” I admitted, knowing I’d hit them both if they fucking made fun of me for being soft or some shit.

“And she won’t give it to you?” Patrick wondered out loud. “I can’t imagine that.”

“You guys, she just got divorced.”

“So?” the two of them said in unison.

“So...” I sucked in another long breath before spitting it out. “She still feels guilty about her marriage ending. She needs time to sort out all of her feelings and work through them.”

“Did she actually say those things, or are you making shit up?” Patrick asked, clearly wondering what had been said and what I had read between the lines.

“Pretty much, yeah. She said all that.”

“I don’t buy it, bro,” Matthew interjected and finished off his beer. “I think you should let me ask her out. We can test the theory on what she is and isn’t ready for.”

Patrick socked Matthew in the shoulder as I ground out my overly jealous response. “We will no longer be brothers if you do that.”

Matthew laughed, and I knew he was just busting my chops. At least, I hoped so. This was the second time he’d brought up asking her out, and even though he loved to push my buttons, one of these days, he was going to take it too far.

“I will you all to stop fighting,” Clara shouted from the top of the stairs as she waved her sparkling wand at each one of us. She looked perfectly witchy in her costume.

“We weren’t fighting,” I said, not wanting her to worry.

“You always fight, and then say you aren’t. We don’t tell lies, Daddy. And if you three don’t stop fighting, I’ll keep all my candy for myself and puke again,” she declared like she was the boss of this whole damn family in her lit-up skirt and mismatched shoes.

Which wasn’t a lie. Because we all knew that she was.

“Let’s go!” Matthew hopped up from the couch and ran to meet his niece at the bottom of the stairs. “I can’t wait to see what goodies we get this year.”

“Next year, I’m dressing Jasper up too, Uncle Patrick.” She petted the dog’s head, and he looked up at her like she was the best thing next to my brother. “I bet we’d get twice the candy if he came to the door with me.”

“Smart idea. I like it,” Patrick said with a wink. “What do you think, boy?” he asked his dog like he might actually answer him back.

“Let’s go. Can’t keep Pops waiting all night. He’s old, remember? Might fall asleep soon,” I teased, and Clara giggled.

“Pops is not old. And he’d never fall asleep on candy night. It’s his favorite,” she declared before asking, “Can we go now?”

We all fought to be the one to hold her hand, but in the end, Matthew won out. I thought it was mostly because Patrick had to hold on to Jasper’s leash and I had to hold on to her broom. But Matthew looked at us like Clarabel liked him the best, and all I kept thinking about was the fact that he lived next door to Brooklyn, and what if she liked him the best too?