Too bad. Will had a feeling he’d just had a near-miss on a really hot catfight.
“Oh my God,” Brynn said as she met Jenna’s eyes. Eyes that she should now be registering as familiar. “You’re Gray’s sister.”
Jenna shot a finger pistol at her. “You got it. My brother and your sister are hitched.”
Brynn let out a low moan before reaching up toward her disheveled hair. She dropped her arm almost immediately, as though realizing it was too late to save her hair. And her dignity.
Still, he had to give her credit. Instead of slinking off, she straightened her shoulders and took a deep, steadying breath.
“Sorry about that,” Brynn said with an embarrassed smile. “None of this would have happened if Sophie and Gray had gotten married normally with bridesmaids and whatnot instead of eloping in Vegas.”
“Yeah, clearly it’s Sophie who’s to blame for this situation,” Will said blandly.
Brynn glanced over her shoulder at him, and though there was a remnant of heat there, she mostly just looked confused.
He started to crack, just a little. He’d wanted her to learn how to come to him and to learn to ask for what she wanted. But perhaps he was expecting too much from a woman who didn’t even know what she wanted.
“You’re staying here?” Brynn asked, her voice still wary, as she turned to Jenna.
“Yeah, Gray and Sophie don’t have an extra bedroom, so Sophie asked Will to put me up for a few days. I actually think she tried to ask you first, but…”
“But I wasn’t picking up my phone,” Brynn said with a little groan.
Jenna shrugged.
“Well, welcome to the neighborhood,” Brynn said too brightly. “If you need anything, I’m just next door.”
Will barely registered that Brynn was no longer in his house before he saw her streaking across the lawn like a tattered little bunny.
Jenna headed toward the fridge. “I think I will take that beer now. And not that I want to get in the middle of any of this, but some advice from a woman…if you don’t go after her right now…”
But Will was already moving toward the door. He paused briefly, and turned to Jenna just as she popped the cap on her beer. “Look, I hate to go all soap opera on you, but if you could keep this kind of quiet…”
Jenna held up a hand. “Trust me. I don’t even know what I’d say.”
And then Will was moving toward Brynn’s house, automatically stooping down to pick up the stupid little fake rock in her backyard where he knew she kept her key. He’d bet his life that she’d have locked the door to wallow in her embarrassment in solitude.
He let himself in the back door without remorse, and was slightly surprised not to find her eating peanut butter out of the jar, or scarfing chocolate chips, or whatever it was that women did for comfort.
Will moved quietly toward the stairs, smiling a little when he heard the distant sound of water running. Of course Brynn Dalton wouldn’t wallow in embarrassment with sugar or booze or dairy products. She’d hop in the shower to wash the embarrassment away.
She’d left the door open, and the vast amount of steam revealed that she liked her showers piping hot, just like he did.
He had the fleeting urge to pull back the curtain and mime stabbing motions. How often did a horror-movie buff come across the opportunity to surprise a woman in a shower à la Psycho? Somehow he didn’t think that would help his cause. At all.
Instead he silently lowered himself to the toilet seat as he mulled over what to say.
Want any company in there?
Jenna’s just a friend.
Why don’t you want anyone to know about us?
But he wasn’t playing his cards until he could get a peek at hers. So instead he simply said, “Hey.”
He braced himself for a scream. Maybe a bar of soap flying at his head. But instead there were so many beats of silence that he thought she must not have heard him.
“I thought I locked the door,” she said finally.