Chapter 6

"Thank you so much, Elaine," Brooke smiled, embracing the mother of one of her students.  "I'll pick her up Sunday morning."

"It's no problem, Brooke." She smiled warmly then took her daughter Elise by the hand. "We love having her."

"OK sweetie." Brooke turned and squatted to hug her daughter goodbye.  "Be a good girl, ok?  I'll see you Sunday."

"OK, Mommy," Melody said, hugging back tightly.  "I love you."

"I love you, too," Brooke replied, kissing her daughter on the cheek.

Melody ran over to Elise and took her friend by the hand, tugging her small ladybug pattern suitcase behind her. She waved and blew one last kiss as the trio got into Elaine's car.

The weeks leading up to Christmas break had flown by in a busy, crazy frenzy.  Programs, recitals, performances and parties all became blurred together into a whirlwind.  Now at last it was Christmas break.  Elaine had offered to let Melody spend the weekend so Brooke could recuperate, shop and relax.

Leaning against the doorframe of the classroom, Lincoln crossed both arms over his chest. The last several weeks had been busy with his business and kept him home in San Diego. With Christmas around the corner, he decided to come stay with his sister.

Despite trying to forget the curvaceous auburn puzzle, he couldn't see her again.  Some guilt remained from their argument while line dancing too.  This was why he was at her school.  He watched Brooke sort papers, carry them to a filing cabinet and stuff them away.  Each time Brooke bent to grab another stack, his lips tilted into a smirk.  The dark teal sweater dress showed more of the creamy skin of her legs. It flared out from her hips to give a very flattering silhouette.

Lincoln had scolded himself countless times on his way to the school.  Last time he saw Brooke, she was lip locked with that other teacher.  Still, the memory of how stiff she appeared, the hint of not reciprocating told Lincoln maybe she wasn't interested in this other guy. With enough courage, Lincoln had made it there stubbornly set on finding out.

Turning toward the desk, Brooke put her personal things away then donned her dark gray scarf.

"'Bout done so you can enjoy your break?"

She nearly jumped out of her skin not realizing someone was there.  Still, the melodic tone of his voice sent a thrill down her spine. With a hand on her chest, breaths heaving, Brooke turned toward him.

"What are you doing here?" Brooke glared then pivoted to get her bag.

Brooke turned, slinging her bag onto her shoulder but stopped.  Lincoln had entered the classroom, not stopping until he was an arms length away.  She almost bumped into his hard chest. With wide eyes, she peered up at him.

Why did he always have to look so hot? The dark wash jeans he wore sat low on his hips. A white cotton t-shirt hugged the muscles over his torso perfectly and the olive green button down cardigan did nothing to hide his chiseled arms. Damn it! And he smelled amazing, too! The spicy mint of his cologne or aftershave, whatever the confounded source was, swirled over her like a fog.

"I came to ask you personally for your phone number," Lincoln explained, taking one more daring step toward her.  "Unless... your boyfriend would mind."

Brooke's brows crinkled before her head tilted to show her confusion. "I don't...have...a boyfriend..." She was unsure where he would get that ridiculous notion.

"So...can I then?" he inquired while taking his phone from the pocket of his jeans.

Brooke blinked to bring her back from her inner drooling session.  "Can you what?"

"Have your number?"

She scoffed and made a move to step around him.  "Why would you want my number?"

Lincoln stepped to the side as well, staying directly in front of Brooke. When she tried to go the opposite direction, so did he. 

"For starters," he said, smirking down at her frustrated frown.  "So I can let you know when I will be picking up Elise. You said so yourself, a gentleman would ask you directly for your number."

"But you're not a gentleman," Brooke quipped, eyebrow quirked and arms crossing under her chest.

"I can be if I want to," he countered, voice dropping low.

With a defeated sigh, Brooke took his phone from Lincoln's hand and typed her number into the keypad.  She hit call so she'd have his. When her phone rang in her bag, Brooke reached in and rejected the call then unlocked and typed in his name as a new contact.

He probably won't ever use it anyway.  What was the harm? Brooke thought to herself, handing the phone to Lincoln.

"I don't accept calls after 5:30," Brooke informed plainly as she put her phone away.

A sassy remark was about to leave Lincoln's mouth when Brooke's phone rang again.  She looked down at it and sighed.  Annoyance at what would keep her at school longer made her lips purse. Then Brooke paled and swallowed hard.

"What's wrong?" Lincoln questioned.

"It's um-" Brooke shook her head as if clearing fuzzy thoughts. "I have to take this...excuse me."  She hit the accept button then dropped her bag and quickly crossed to the opposite side of the classroom before answering.

"What the f*ck took you so long to answer?" came the voice Brooke hated to hear.

"Don't talk to me that way!" Brooke reprimanded in a hissed tone, trying to be quiet so Lincoln didn't overhear.   "I'm at work.  What do you want?"

"I want to see Melody this weekend," Dorian demanded.

Brooke scoffed, "That's not going to happen."

"She's my daughter!" he yelled, causing Brooke to pull the phone from her ear.

"It's not the agreement. I'm at work and not discussing this now.  If you have a problem, call my attorney!"

A long moment of silence made a cold rush of dread flood Brooke. She began to tremble slightly with anger and fear.  A warm hand on her arm made her jerk in surprise. For reasons she couldn't explain, Lincoln's touch calmed her.

He stayed respectfully from afar as Brooke's heated argument elevated. Her body began to tremble with each shaky breath.  Brooke didn't know he had padded quietly across the room until Lincoln laid a hand on her arm.  It served as a gentle reminder she wasn't alone.

"If you continue to keep my daughter from me," Dorian's voice finally broke the tense silence, deceptively soft. Brooke shuddered at the tone that always meant pain.  "I will...take you to court for sole custody."

"You'll lose." Brooke hoped her voice sounded confident, not fearful though she was consumed with it.

"Well listen to the confident b*tch give lip!" Dorian chuckled darkly.  "This is what happens when you don't have someone knocking sense into you."

"We are done, Dorian," her voice cracked, tears spilling over as her brave face crumbled. The call couldn't end soon enough.  "Bastard."

Lincoln spun Brooke around and held her to his chest.  The harsh, angrily spat words from this Dorian guy made Lincoln want to protect Brooke.  She cried into his chest, embarrassed, angry and tormented by this ghost from her past.

"I'm sorry," Brooke sniffled, drawing herself hesitantly away from Lincoln's warmth.

He released her but only enough to cup her cheek to lock their eyes.  Something tugged at him seeing the tear stained cheeks and shimmering wet hazel eyes gaze up at him.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," he reprimanded gently.  "Who was that? Why was he talking to you that way?"

Brooke groaned and stepped away, turning her back to Lincoln again.  "My ex-husband."

Lincoln stiffened then stuffed his fists in his pockets.  Guilt flooded him from his remarks at the club about why she was single.  No wonder she had been hurt by his own behavior and words.

"Oh."
After a long moment of silence, Lincoln cleared his throat.  "Do you uh...wanna go get some coffee?"

When Brooke turned around, she saw the usually confident, even cocky, Lincoln rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. She silently nodded her agreement with a weak smile and followed him out the door after taking her bag.

"I've managed to be out of his clutches for the last five years," Brooke explained.  She steadily stirred the whipped cream into her mocha.  "Now that I've moved back to California, he is back to his old cruel games of trying to control me."

They sat at a small table for two in the corner of the coffee shop Brooke frequented during the school week. Lincoln sat leaning over the table, rotating his cup of coffee.

"That comment he made," Lincoln inquired gently, reaching out to lay his large hand on hers. "Toward the end of the call."

Brooke scoffed and smirked darkly, "The one about knocking sense into me?"

He nodded.  "He used to-"

"Yes," she cut him off, casting her eyes down at her coffee. "He was abusive." She paused then sipped the warm liquid.  "In many ways."

"Oh, Brooke," Lincoln sighed, forest depths shimmering with empathy.

The stubborn woman across from him stiffened, leaned back and shook her head.

"No," she snapped, withdrawing her hand from his.  "Don't."

"Don't what?" He frowned. Lincoln tried to reach for her hand again but Brooke hugged herself to keep out of reach.

"Don't look at me like that.  Like you pity me for what I've been through.  I don't need yours or anyone else's pity!"

Lincoln leaned back, pressing his lips into a thin line.  "It's not pity, Brooke," he whispered so as not to draw any more attention from other patrons.  "I could never pity you."

She let out a shaky breath then closed her eyes shut.  "I'm not a victim, Lincoln."

"No, you're not," he said and shook his head.  "You're a survivor and a fighter."

Both of their eyes met and held each other's gaze for a long moment.  Finally Lincoln reached his hand out to her.  Brooke flicked her eyes down at his upturned palm, pondering the offer.  Slowly she lifted her hand and placed it in his.

A warm vibe of comfort travelled up Brooke's arm.  Lincoln drew small circles on the back of her hand with his thumb.  She watched the innocent action, mesmerized by the steady pattern.

"Five years," Brooke mumbled, staring at the still circling thumb. "Leena was by my side for most of it. Trenton was a character witness on my behalf. They've been amazing friends. My parents supported me...but they all gave pity.  I don't need anyone's pity." 

Hazel orbs beneath furrowed brows flicked up to Lincoln's, fired with passion and insistence.

"Well," Lincoln exhaled, squeezing her hand a little tighter.  "If you need or...want another friend, count me in."

Brooke's scoff turned into a light chortle.  "Friend-zoned because I'm not your type."

"No." He shook his head, the corners of his lips tilting into a smirk. "A first step in getting to know each other."

Heat crawled up Brooke's cheeks. "B-but you said-"

"What do you like to do on weekends?" Lincoln asked boldly, leaning his chin to rest on his fist.

"Uh...seriously?" she asked blankly.  When Lincoln nodded, Brooke formed an answer.  "Honestly? Um...I...do lesson plans, I...cook meals for the coming week.  We go line dancing once a month, sometimes I go bowling though I'm terrible.  My favorite is staying home in bed in my pajamas." She giggled at her last confession, hiding her face in her hands.

Grinning now, Lincoln whispered, "What do your pajamas look like?"

Hazel eyes widened then her lips tilted into a smirk of her own.  "It's my turn."

Lincoln groaned defeatedly hanging his head. "Fine."

"What do you do?"

"I'm a corporate attorney in San Diego."

"So, you live in San Diego?"

"Yeah. I visit on long weekends and I'm here for Christmas."

That made sense.  He did pick up Elise from school on the Friday of a three day weekend earlier in the school year.

Lincoln was about to pose another question when Brooke's phone dinged.  She took it out and groaned when she saw it.

"Ahh, I'm sorry," she muttered.  "I forgot I'm supposed to be meeting Leena at the mall.  I've got to go."

Brooke stood to go but Lincoln caught her by the wrist.  "Do you have dinner plans?"

She bit her lower lip to hide a grin. "Yeah...with Leena."

"Tomorrow?" he tried again.

"I uh...have plans tomorrow night, too..."

Lincoln stood, slipping his hand around hers. "I want to take you to dinner soon."

"Well," Brooke shrugged, slowly slipping her fingers from his as she stepped away.  "You have my number."