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Brenna laughed. “It was nice meetin’ y’all. Enjoy the pizza!” I kept a hand on Brenna’s back until we were at my car. “She was nice. Sassy. I think I like her.”
“I figured you’d say that, once you stopped being jealous.”
She sucked in an outraged breath. “I was not jealous. Merely curious.”
“Whatever you need to tell yourself, Brenna.”
She gave my chest a playful shrug and slipped into the passenger seat with a grin. “I think you want me to be jealous.”
“I don’t want it, but it’s nice you to know you care.” The last thing I heard was the sound of her laughter as I closed the door and walked around the car. Brenna’s laugh wasn’t just contagious, it was addictive. The more she used that husky laugh on me, the more I wanted to hear it. The more I needed to hear it, and I found myself doing things just to make her laugh.
“Should I be jealous of a married woman, Grant?”
“Reese? No way. She’s a great girl, but she’s not my type at all. You are.”
“Good answer.”
I turned to her and wiggled my eyebrows. “Thanks. Wanna make out?” I was joking, mostly, but then Brenna shocked me when she leaned in and brushed a soft kiss against my lips.
“Yeah, I do.”
I found a spot shielded by some overgrown trees, turned off the lights and had a make out session that would’ve made my fifteen year old self green with envy.
Brenna
“This would probably look fabulous on you, Brenna.” Shannon held up a bright red dress that looked like it my hug my extra curves a little too much, but holy hell, it was stunning. “It says blond bombshell better than anything we’ve looked at all day.”
I sighed as I took in the lace back of the dress, and admired the just below the knee length with a nod. Shannon was right, it was a gorgeous dress and we had been shopping for hours already, all in search of something to wear for the upcoming engagement party.
“It’s very pretty,” I said finally. “But isn’t red kind of tacky when you’re not the guest of honor?”
“Not if the guest of honor say it’s fine, and I do. Add this to your try pile, pitifully small as it is.” Shannon rubbed her belly and shook her head, looking every bit the disappointment mother that she was soon to be. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those women who hates to shop?”
Her tone was so appalled I couldn’t help but laugh. “No, it’s not that. Nothing is tickling my fancy, that’s all.” I grabbed the red dress and hung it on the dressing room door I’d commandeered for myself. “It’s your party, Shannon, we need to find you a dress first.”
“Unless you have something really fancy coming on an airplane from California?” Mara stood between us, hands on her hips, an impatient look on her face. “Please don’t say that you do.”
“Okay. I won’t,” Shannon laughed and winked at me. “Of course, I don’t. You think I’d be here on my swollen feet if I had a dress flying in? Get real.” She moved to another rack and flashed a look at me over her shoulder. “I’ll keep looking while you tell us what’s going on with you and Grant.”
That was inevitable, I knew that, but still it shocked me. “We’re just hanging out, I guess.”
Mara snorted. “What the hell does that mean? Do adults even hang out?”
“These adults do,” I shot back. “And it means that we spend time together, we have really good sex, and that’s about it.” It was a twist on friends with benefits, I supposed, except there was a real friendship between us.
“Sounds like dating to me,” Mara said in a sing-song voice.
“Me too,” Shannon added with an apologetic smile.
“Maybe, but it’s not like we’re really dating. Like I said, just hanging out.” At least I thought that’s what we were doing, but now I’m not sure if Grant is sending mixed messages, which men have been known to do, or if I just want more from him than I’m allowing myself to admit. “I don’t know. The first three weeks we had three dates, keeping it casual, right? Then he sent flowers. Then he just stopped by because he couldn’t stop thinking about kissing me. Honestly, I have no clue what the hell we’re doing.”
“Well,” Mara began and turned with a silver dress draped over her shoulder. “What do you want to happen?”
“I don’t know, and that’s the God’s honest truth. The fact that I like him at all means there’s some fatal flaw I haven’t uncovered yet.” And the bigger, more troublesome problem was that I was slowly approaching the point where it would be too late if and when I did uncover the flaw. “We have an unspoken agreement to just keep our distance. Now, back to shopping?”
