She sucked in a quick breath when she saw he’d been watching her. His eyes quickly moved back to Marnie, but she saw the tension in his jaw.
He didn’t like this any more than she did.
“…And I think you should know, my Brynny doesn’t bring just any boyfriend home to meet her parents,” Marnie was saying.
“Oh, he’s not quite my boyfriend,” Brynn said quickly. “We’ve only been on a few dates. I know it’s a bit soon to bring him to meet the family, but he just moved to the area, and I knew he’d appreciate a home-cooked meal and a chance to get the scoop on Seattle sports!”
Brynn flashed a winning smile at her parents, who puffed up at the praise, but Sophie winced. She didn’t know how she knew it, but she instinctively understood that a man like Gray would hate feeling like a friendless charity case. She cast another glance in his direction, and sure enough, his clenched jaw looked like it could shatter his molars. Good thing he was dating an orthodontist.
Looking to distract the conversation before her mother and Brynn started stuffing baked goods in Gray’s pockets while discussing baby names, Sophie jerked Will forward as buffer. She couldn’t remember if Brynn had already introduced Will while she’d been having a mental and emotional breakdown, but it couldn’t hurt to put her own spin on things.
“Mr. Wyatt, this is Will Thatcher. My date.”
Will let out a derisive snort, but took pity on her, because he didn’t bother to correct the implication that they were more than friends. The two men shook hands.
“A pleasure to meet you,” Gray said politely.
Will said nothing. Sophie tossed back the rest of her wine.
“Mom!” she said sharply, pulling her mother out of a hushed
conversation with Brynn. “I think we’ve all adequately enjoyed the drawing room.”
“Of course!” Marnie said, realizing that standing in their rarely used living room was hardly the way to make her potential future son-in-law feel more at home. “Come into the kitchen; it’s far more cozy!”
Will and Sophie exchanged a look. Her mom had recently hired an interior designer to make over their house in “industrial mod.” “Cozy” it was not.
Marnie linked arms with Brynn and they left the room in a flurry of whispers. Will followed them, making soft mimicking noises behind Brynn’s back.
“So what do you know about the Mariners?” Sophie’s father said to Gray, as he led him toward the kitchen. Sophie trailed after them, trying to keep her eyes pinned on the back of her father’s head so her gaze didn’t drift to Gray’s back. She hadn’t seen him from this angle before, and it was every bit as yummy as the front.
Stop. It.
“Um, I’m not as familiar with Seattle pro sports teams as I’d like,” Gray was saying stiffly. Sophie rolled her eyes. At least his horrible conversation skills weren’t limited to her.
Gray stopped abruptly in the hallway and turned back toward Sophie. “Miss Dalton, I was wondering if you might show me to the restroom?”
She jolted slightly as she realized he was addressing her, and she swallowed dryly. “Um, sure, it’s just down the hall on the right—”
He grabbed her arm and pulled her in that direction, while an oblivious Chris continued to the kitchen, still rambling about ERAs and RBIs.
Gray shoved Sophie roughly into the tiny powder room and shut the door behind them.
“Well this is familiar,” Sophie said. “You, me, small dark spaces. Animosity. The sister element is new, though. Quite the twist—”
The light flickered on, and she found Gray glaring down at her.
“I think I liked the dark better,” she muttered. “I certainly haven’t missed your scowl.”
“What are you doing here?” he demanded. His lips were pressed together so tightly it was a wonder any sound came out.
“What do you mean what am I doing here? You’re in my parents’ house. Sunday dinners have been a weekly occurrence for a couple decades now. You’re the newcomer.”
His jaw twitched as though irritated to be caught asking the obvious. “You never said you were from Seattle,” he accused.
Sophie’s temper spiked. How was this horrible coincidence her fault? “You never asked! I was merely playing dress-up at my cousin’s bachelorette party, but you were too busy assuming I was a hooker,” she hissed. “Which I’m not. Obviously.”
“Obviously,” he snarled. Gray glanced down at her worn jeans and seriously ancient Stanford T-shirt. His gaze seemed to linger on her midriff, and Sophie resisted the urge to tug at the hem of her shirt. She was well covered compared to the last time she’d seen him, but something about the way this man looked at her made her feel…naked.