Rule #7: You Can't Fake Date Your Brother's Best Friend - Paperback

My room smelled like sage. 

Well, burning sage would be the accurate term. 

The smell and the sound of Mom’s feet shuffling around on the plush new carpet of our new ranch in Montana told me one thing: she was cleansing my room. 

“Ma,” I mumbled as I flipped to my stomach and buried my face into my pillow. “Did you have to do this at the crack of dawn?” I tipped my head slightly to the side so I could yawn without suffocating myself and then buried my nose deep into the fluff in the hope of muting out the smell. 

“We can’t live here with bad spirits,” Mom sang out. Her voice shifted around me.

I groaned and pushed myself up. So much for sleeping. “You’re crazy, you know that?”

Mom was standing near the window, making circles with the smoke that was billowing from the sage bundle she was clutching. She had a multicolored scarf wrapped around her head and a pinkish hue to her cheeks. A sight that I had missed ever since she started chemotherapy four months ago. 

It made me wonder if today was going to be a good day. 

She seemed to be oblivious to my stares. Instead, she chuckled as she moved to stand next to the bed and then leaned over to bop me on the nose. “If it keeps my family safe, I’ll be as crazy as I need to be.”

I playfully glared at her, but that only lasted for a moment before my frown morphed into a soft smile. I knew that Mom hated it when we looked at her with sorrow, but it was hard not to. Stage four cancer wasn’t something most women came back from. The more time marched on, the less time I feared I had with her. 

Not wanting my worry to get the best of me, I sighed and brought my knees up to my chest to hug them. Moving to Glories Bluff, Montana hadn’t been on my bucket list, but when Dad got the job as the town’s veterinarian and Mom found the house on forty acres with a huge willow tree that hung over the pond, I knew I couldn’t fight my parents. They were just too darn happy to make the move. And happiness was in short supply in our family. 

They’d always wanted to move out of New York, and time to make it happen was quickly coming to an end. We were determined to live our lives to the fullest with whatever we had left with Mom. Even if that meant pulling Paul and me out of our junior and senior year of high school to achieve that happiness. 

I, however, was indifferent. Besides desperately wanting to see a smile on Mom’s face every morning, it sucked to leave my friends and life that I had behind me when we moved. Sure, I wasn’t your typical high school popular girl, but that didn’t mean I didn’t have friends. 

All three of said friends were crushed when I told them my family was moving, but they knew why we were making the change. Alison, Cameron, and Paisley promised to keep in touch—which I wasn’t holding my breath about. Long distance relationships never seemed to work out. 

Besides, Mom was happy, and for the first time in a month, she looked happy. I would trade all of my friends for this opportunity to sit on my mattress and watch Mom dance happily around me.  

I never wanted this to change. 

Mom stopped circling around me, dragging the burning sage in front of her so that the smoke drifted across the room and faced me. “I think I’m done here.” She smiled. “I’m going to go cleanse Paul’s room and then get started on breakfast.”

I wanted to fight her about doing too much. Tell her that she really should lay down and rest after she cleansed Paul’s room, but I didn’t want to see the downturned look that was sure to follow my words. Mom so badly wanted to take care of us that I couldn’t burst her bubble like this. So, I yawned and stretched. “Sounds good.”

“Bacon and eggs?”

My mouth watered at the words. “You know it.” I’d just make sure to hurry getting ready, so I could come down and help her. 

Mom was almost out the door before she stopped. “How does your room feel?” she asked. I could hear her excitement in her voice. 

Not wanting to disappoint her, I nodded. “Completely different.”

“Har har.”

I winked. “I mean it.”

She playfully glowered before her eyebrows raised. “Before I forget, Blake’s coming over this morning, so…” She waggled her finger in my direction. “Make sure you are dressed and have a bra on.”

My arms wrapped protectively around my chest. “Ma,” I said, my cheeks heating. 

“I know, he’s your brother’s best friend since they were in diapers, but he’s a man now. And you are—”

“I get it. I get it.” There was no way I was going to sit here and suffer through another sex-ed conversation with Mom that involved a plug and outlet. That was horrifying and scarring when I was eight, and I had a sinking suspicion that it wouldn’t be any better at sixteen. “I’ll get dressed,” I said. 

Mom nodded and after a moment, slipped out into the hallway, shutting my door behind her. I sighed as I stretched out my legs. Butterflies floated around in my stomach as I thought back on her words. 

Blake and my brother Paul had been friends forever. Both my family and the Marshalls lived in the same apartment building in Brooklyn before Brett Marshall inherited his grandfather’s ranch here in Montana and the family picked up and moved. 

While it had been a few years since I last saw the Marshalls, Paul and Blake worked at the dude ranch just outside of Glories Bluff every summer for the last three years. So when Dad floated the idea of leaving New York to move here for Paul’s senior year, my brother had no objection. 

We were packed up and heading across the country in a matter of months. 

Even though I hadn’t seen Blake face to face, I saw pictures of him at the ranch standing alongside Paul. He’d gotten taller and was definitely filled out. And from what I could tell by all the girls that were hanging on his arm—he knew it. 

Which just made everything much worse. The kid I remembered who made me mud pies and spun me on the trap of death on the playground until I almost puked was gone and was replaced with a full-grown man with sparkling white teeth that shown against his tanned skin. 

We weren’t even in the same playing field, much less galaxy.  

“Get your head on straight,” I said as I hit the sides of my head with the bottom of my palm. I was crazy to think anything but platonic thoughts about Blake. If I didn’t stop them now, they would grow and fester in my mind. They always did. Mom said I was destined to be a writer with my overactive imagination. 

Thankfully, he was coming over, and I was convinced that after a short conversation between us, all these thoughts about him would dissipate. I would be just as indifferent to him as I had been as a kid. 

That was the goal. 

I stood up from my mattress and headed over to the bathroom. I had to dig around in the box labeled Susie’s Bathroom to find my shampoo and conditioner. After a quick shower, I pulled back the curtain only to realize that I had no towel…or mat. Nothing to dry my body off with. 

I growled as I gingerly stepped out onto the white tile and peered into my room. 

Nothing. 

With my hands covering the important parts, I tiptoed out to my bed where I grabbed my blanket and wrapped it around my body. Water dripped from my hair and down my back as I hurried over to my door. 

I remembered a mover bringing in a box labeled towels and dumping it in the living room. If I hurried, I’d be able to grab one out before anyone saw me. Mom was too busy with the sage in Paul’s room, and I would bet a million dollars Paul had no idea Mom was in there. That kid could sleep through a tornado. Dad was already gone for the day, setting up his office in, as Mom put it, “The feng shui way.”

I was down the stairs and over to the living room in a matter of seconds. I had to hike up my blanket, so I didn’t trip on it and lose all sense of dignity. When I got to the box, I let out a sigh of relief…until I realized that it was taped. When it came to taping boxes, my dad wasn’t one to skimp. 

I groaned as I bent over the side and began picking at the edge of the tape. It was going to take me forever to loosen it. “Dumb tape,” I grumbled as I dug a little divot into the box with my fingernail. “Who puts this much tape on a box?” 

My hair slipped off my shoulder and was dripping water onto cardboard next to me. I sighed as I flipped it to my back, tipping my head to the other side. 

“Here, let me help you.” A hand carrying a pocketknife suddenly appeared in front of me. 

I yelped and jumped back, thankfully keeping my hand wrapped around my blanket. “What the—?” I breathed out as a tall, dark-haired guy stepped up to me. 

I didn’t need an introduction to know that this was Blake. A very grown up and handsome Blake. Pictures did not do him justice. 

Crap.

He smiled at me, but there was a sheepish hint to his expression. He shrugged as he held up the knife. “You looked like you were struggling.”

I wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Here I was, standing in the middle of the living room, wrapped in a blanket and dripping water everywhere. I knew enough about myself to know that I looked more like a drowned rat than a lifeguard on any Hollywood movie. 

This was not how I wanted my first meeting with Blake to go.

“Thanks,” was all I could muster as I watched Blake focus his attention on cutting the tape. 

He pulled open the flaps and glanced inside. “I’m guessing this was what you were looking for,” he said as he pulled out a white towel and handed it to me. 

“Yeah, thanks,” I repeated as I grabbed the towel and hugged it to my chest. Before he or I could say anything more, I kept my head down and hurried to the stairs. 

Once I was inside my room, I shut my door and then flopped onto my mattress. I covered my eyes with my arm as the memory of staring into Blake’s eyes flashed through my mind. 

That was a fail. 

It took a minute before I felt brave enough to peel myself off my unmade bed and face my reflection in the mirror. I dried off and slipped into a pair of jean shorts and a plain yellow t-shirt. After towel drying and then brushing my hair, I braided it back and then applied some lip gloss and mascara. 

My cheeks were still pink from our encounter, but I just hoped it made me look like I’d applied blush instead of experiencing a completely embarrassing moment just minutes ago. 

I could hear voices downstairs when I pulled open my door. I contemplated running back into my room and never coming out, but I knew that there was a high likelihood that Mom would send Blake up here to get me, and I wanted to avoid that catastrophe. I just shut my door quietly behind me and headed back down the hall. 

I was going to hope that Mom would be so wrapped up in talking to Blake that she wouldn’t notice me and therefore wouldn’t draw any attention my direction. 

Even though I knew that was a slim possibility, I was still going to hope. 

“Oh good, you’re dressed and here,” Mom said the moment I stepped into the kitchen. 

I just nodded and moved to sit down at the far end of the table. 

“Susanne Jordan, don’t be rude.”

I paused before I glanced up. Mom was standing next to the stove with a spatula in hand. Blake was leaning against the counter with his gaze trained on me while he munched on a piece of bacon. 

“I’m sorry, Mom,” I whispered, not really sure how I was being rude and not really wanting to continue this conversation. 

“You didn’t greet our guest,” Mom said as she waved her spatula in Blake’s direction. 

Out of instinct, my gaze drifted over to him. “Hello,” I said and then cringed at how formal I sounded. 

Blake’s eyebrows went up. “Hello.”

There was a silence that fell around us. I glanced from Blake to Mom, hoping that someone would save me from this awkward experience. 

Thankfully, it didn’t take Mom too long to sputter and then turn to flip her eggs. “That was the driest reunion I’ve ever seen,” she said as she plated the eggs. 

“We talked earlier,” Blake said. 

My gaze whipped over to him. What was he doing? Where was he going with this? 

“Oh really?” Mom asked as she handed over the plate with eggs to Blake. 

He nodded. “I helped her get out a towel.”

“Blake,” I hissed. I wasn’t sure how Mom was going to take that, but there was one thing Cheryl Jordan had along with her daughter, and that was an overactive imagination. In a matter of seconds, Mom was going to see romance, wedding bells, and grandkids. 

And those were the kinds of things that she should say to me, and me only.  

“Towel?” Mom asked with a frown. 

He nodded as he shoveled some eggs into his mouth, blatantly ignoring the death stares I was sending his direction. “She needed me to open a box.”

Mom paused but then nodded. “Well, that’s sweet of you to help our little Susie. I’m sure she’s grateful.”

Despite the fact that my mother called me little Susie, I felt grateful. Blake made no mention of my attire or just showered look. To mom, he’d just helped me. We were going to keep it at that. 

I wanted to get up and help Mom finish breakfast, but I was cemented to my seat. The last thing I needed was to remind Mom that I was there, thus spurring further intrusive comments. 

Plus, Mom looked perfectly content flipping the popping bacon, and I would be a liar if I said I wasn’t enjoying just watching her be her for once. I already had images of Mom losing her hair and throwing up over the toilet. I needed to replace them with something positive. 

Blake seemed happy to chat with Mom. It was as if our families had never been apart. He ate, and she asked questions. They definitely got along well. 

“Are you dating anyone?” 

Mom’s question came so fast that I hadn’t prepared myself for it. I inhaled as the last words hit my ears, which sent me into a coughing fit. Blake and Mom turned their attention to me, and I held up my hand as I reached for my water. My eyes were watering, but I would survive this. The last thing I needed was for them to come to my rescue. 

Blake drew his attention back to Mom as I guzzled my water. “I did. Her name’s Hannah. But we broke up a week ago.” His shoulders sagged.

Rage rose up inside of me. Who was this Hannah, and why did she break Blake’s heart? I had half a mind to demand to know who she was so I could give her a piece of my mind. I was fiercely protective over my family. An outgrowth of watching a family member struggle.

“She sounds like a loser,” Mom said, the same rage I felt inside shining across her countenance. 

Blake chuckled. “Yeah. But I miss her.”

Mom shook her head. “You’re better without her.” 

I nodded as I slipped a forkful of eggs into my mouth. Go, Mom. 

“I don’t know.” Blake looked forlorn. “She was pretty perfect for me.”

I scoffed which drew Blake’s attention over, so I masked my reaction with a cough as if I were still struggling. His gaze rested on me for a moment before he turned back to Mom. 

“Well, if she doesn’t know your worth, then she’s not worth your time.” Mom reached over and patted Blake’s shoulder. 

He nodded and smiled. “Thanks.”

Right then, Paul walked into the room. His eyes were bloodshot, and his hair stuck up on one side of his head. He squinted as he glanced around. “Were you in my room, Ma?” he asked as he pushed his hand through his hair. “It smells weird.”

“That’s sage, and yes, I was in there.” She lifted her spatula up to wiggle it in Paul’s direction. “You should thank me. There were some weird spirits in there.”

Paul stared at Mom for a moment before he leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. The rest of the family didn’t believe in this mumbo jumbo that Mom always talked about, but we loved her anyway. 

“Thanks,” he said as she handed him a plate. 

“Of course. Anything for my babies.”

Paul nodded toward the hallway, and Blake pushed off the counter. Just before he disappeared through the doorway after Paul, he paused. “Thanks, Mrs. Jordan, for the food.” Then his gaze drifted over to me, and he smiled. “It was good to see you, Susie.”

I smiled and nodded, hating the fact that I blushed from his smile. 

What was wrong with me?

“Anytime.” Mom’s smile faded, and a rock settled in my gut. It was the same thing that happened every time we thought about the future. 

Was it there? How much of it did we have left?

Blake just winked at Mom and disappeared, leaving the two of us alone. Mom busied herself around the kitchen, cleaning up. She looked tired, so I stood and took the plate that she was bringing to the sink and set it inside. 

“Go lay down. I’ll finish cleaning up.”

Mom hesitated, and I prepared myself for a fight, but then she stopped and nodded. “That’s probably a good idea.” I watched her walk from the kitchen over to the living room where she grabbed a throw blanket and pillow and laid down. 

My heart ached at the sight in front of me. I hated seeing her like this. If I could, I would take her pain away. 

But I was only human. It was a frustrating place to be. 

All I knew was I would do anything to make Mom happy. 

Anything.

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