Page 28 of Broken Pieces
Chapter Thirteen
Raelynn
I thought the excitement of Easton and Harper’s baby boy being born was going to be the excitement of July but a few days after baby Theodore, Theo for short, just like my father and grandfather, Summer’s first wedding at the farm came and went. It was wildly successful. I helped as an assistant to Summer making sure everything went smoothly. And it went beyond smoothly. Just a few days after the wedding, three more couples inquired about having their weddings here and bookings for overnight guests skyrocketed.
I argued with Summer about me staying in the house when it could be used for extra income. I didn’t know where I would stay, but I couldn’t keep the business away from her. I figured we would make something work with Easton and have me drive back and forth between his house and the farm. Until Summer decided I could stay in the other room at Brooks’ cottage. I nearly choked on the Arnold Palmer I was drinking when she brought it up. Telling her there was no way Easton would be happy with me staying there. Her answer was, “what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
So here I am moving my clothes from the main house into the cottage. I can tell Brooks isn’t thrilled about the idea either. I am sure he thinks this will get in the way of his one-night stands that frequent his bed. But I really don’t care. He can sleep with whoever he wants. It has absolutely zero effect on me.
He isn’t home when Summer helps me move my stuff. He’s out working on a field somewhere. The minute I walk into the other bedroom in the cottage I know he is not going to be happy I moved in before he could clean up.
The walls have X-Files posters on them, including the classic ‘I Want To Believe.’ When Summer opens a drawer, she finds obnoxious t-shirts that prove his conspiracy obsession even more. A ‘Big Foot is Real’ and ‘The Moon Landing Was Fake’ t-shirts sit on the top of the pile in the drawer.
“I knew he was into conspiracies, but I didn’t think he was a freak about,” Summer says as she moves clothes around in the dresser for me.
“I got into his truck the other day and he had a conspiracy podcast on.”
“How the hell does he get laid so much?”
“Probably because he doesn’t say anything about conspiracies until he gets off. Doesn’t want them to disprove his theories.”
Summer rolls her eyes, “The girls he sleeps with wouldn’t even know what to do with his theories. In fact, I would be surprised if they knew how to do anything other than spread their legs. He always finds the dumbest girls.”
“Really? If he is so into this conspiracy bullshit, you think he’d want someone smart?”
Summer shakes her head, “He only got into the conspiracy thing after he went to jail. And I am sure he only wants the dumb girls because they don’t talk much and they won’t remind him of Leigh.”
My head is spinning in circles at that comment. “What?”
Summer’s eyes go wide as if she just realized what she said. “He, ugh, I don’t even know where to start.”
“Maybe with the jail part?” I say in shock.
“He should really be the one telling you this.”
“Why should he tell me? It’s not like there is anything going on between us.”
“I guess you’re right,” she says. “Well long story short. Leigh was his girlfriend at one point, and he might have gotten in trouble for selling drugs. He wasn’t in jail long. Less than a month. He ended up on probation, still is.” She clasps her hand over her mouth, “You didn’t hear anything about that from me.”
I hold up two fingers. “Scouts honor.”
The conversation quickly changes, and I try not to think about the mystery that is Brooks Anderson.