“You said Claire and Ryder. Not Ryder and Claire.”
“Shit, Trace. You’re a bloodhound.” He leaned back in his chair and shook his head, chuckling under his breath.
“You fell for your future sister-in-law.”
Stiffening, checking that no one was listening in, Grady shushed her. “Have not.”
“No? Tell me about her and your entirely platonic feelings for each other.”
Grady gulped the last of his beer and stared at the receding foam pooling at the bottom. “No.”
“Is she nice?”
“Yeah.”
“Is she pretty?”
“Yes. As are you.”
“What was she wearing when she left for dinner?”
“Trace,” he warned.
She raised an eyebrow, and the corner of her mouth quirked up like she’d been caught by a sneaky fisherman, as Haley’s always was when she knew she was right.
“Fine. A black cable-knit sweaterdress with boots that go over her knees.”
“Tights or no?”
“None. And yes, her legs are long and toned and shapely and... I’m in such deep shit.”
“Wow, you’ve got it bad.”
He lowered his elbows to the table and rubbed his hand over his mouth. “I am aware. Can you see why I called you?”
“You were hoping lightning would strike and release you from the spell?”
“Yeah.”
“Grady?”
“Yeah?”
“Does she feel the same?”
He flashed back to the near-kiss in the stables. Then when that guy at Black Op crashed in front of her; she’d leaned into him, her pulse racing as fast as his, and not because of the near-miss. Her hand on his thigh last night at Ahab’s to comfort him. “I don’t know. If she does, and doesn’t end things with Ryder?”
Mouth as parched asthe Sonoran Desert thanks to the dry red wine that Ryder had insisted would complement her mushroom ravioli, Claire gulped her water as she glanced around the lovely restaurant. Dim lighting, tables spaced far enough apart for romantic privacy, decent acoustics. Ryder’s uninterrupted attention. It was time. Past time.
“I heard a rumor that we were engaged.” Her lip throbbed from where she’d worked it all afternoon, worrying about how to start this dreaded conversation. Her knee vibrated at rapid speed, restless as she’d hid in their suite all day to avoid running into anyone. One more spark with Grady and she would probably ignite.
Ryder winced, his brow heavy with guilt. “About that. Patricia was nagging me about how I’m too old to be still playing the field, and why can’t I settle down like my perfect little sister. Preferably that I get movingnow, so she can announce it at the gala. And, well, I panicked and told her we were already engaged. I’m so sorry, I forgot to mention it.”
After meeting Patricia, she could absolutely understand where that little fib came from. “You could have at least warned me.” Break-ups sucked. Especially when he’d inevitably ask for a reason, and she really didn’t want to tell him the full details. At least, not the reason for her poor timing.
“I figured Grady would be grateful I took some of the pressure off him. Patricia was beaming when we left, as he’s out with Trace. She’s an old friend and gorgeous redhead. Perfect for him.”
Desperate for a distraction, Claire gulped down her desiccant-infused wine. As the last of the moisture in her mouth sapped away, she picked up her water glass and pouted when she discovered she’d already finished it off. This was going great. Like the skating rink. Too late. A sign.Sure, what sort ofsignis this vague? Stop fantasizing about your fiancé’s brother and go with the safe, no-brainer relationship in front of you?
