“Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” Fox laughed. “Anyway, why are you asking me about—” He cut himself off with an expression of dawning comprehension. “Did you come here for advice on women?”
Brendan scoffed. “That’s a stretch.”
“You did, didn’t you? Son of a bitch.” Fox grinned. “Piper still giving you a problem?”
“Who ever said she was a problem?” Brendan shouted.
“Relax, Cap. I meant . . .” Fox searched the ceiling for the correct wording. “Have you gotten her out of your system?”
As though such a thing was possible? “No.”
“You haven’t slept with her?”
Fuck. He didn’t like talking about this. What happened between him and Piper should be private. “I’m not answering that,” he growled.
Fox looked impressed. “You have, then. So what is the problem?”
Brendan stared. “I think the problem might be that I came to you for advice.”
His friend waved off the insult. “Just ask me what you want to know. I’m actually pretty fucking flattered that you came to me. I know two things: fishing and women. And those two things have a lot of similarities. When you’re fishing, you use bait, right?” He pointed at his smile. “I’ve got your woman bait right here.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“Next you’ve got the hook. That’s your opening line.”
A hole opened in the center of Brendan’s stomach. “My opening line to Piper was basically telling her to go home.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty surprised that worked myself.” He rubbed at the line between his brows. “Where was I with my analogy?”
“You were done.”
“No, I wasn’t. Once she’s hooked, you just have to reel her in.” He leaned forward and braced his forearms on his knees. “Sounds like you’ve already done all that, though. Unless . . . Wait, the goal was just sex, right?”
“I didn’t have a fucking goal. Not at the beginning. Or I probably wouldn’t have shouted at her, called her purse ugly, and strongly suggested she go home.” Suddenly sick to his stomach, Brendan slapped down the beer bottle and pushed to his feet. “God, I’m lucky she’s giving me the time of day at all. Now I have the nerve to try and make her stay here for me? Am I insane?”
Fox gave a low whistle. “Okay, things have progressed a lot since the last time we talked.” His friend’s bemusement was alarming. “You want that girl to stay in this town?”
Brendan massaged the pressure in his chest. “Don’t say it like that.”
A beat of silence passed. “I’m out of my depth on this one, Cap. I don’t have any advice on how to actually keep the fish in the boat. I usually just let them swim off again.”
“Fuck sake. Stop with the analogy.”
“It’s a good one and you know it.”
Brendan sat back down, clasped his hands between his knees. “If she went back to LA, I’d have no choice but to let her. My job is here. A crew who depends on me.”
“Not to mention, you’d go crazy there. It’s not you. You . . . are Westport.”
“So that leaves Piper to give up everything.” His voice sounded bleak. “How can I ask her to do that?”
Fox shook his head. “I don’t know. But she’d be gaining you.” He shrugged. “It’s probably not a total shit trade.”
“Thanks,” Brendan said drily, before sobering. “If she’s happy, she won’t leave. That stands to reason, right? But what do women like? What makes them happy?”
Fox pointed to his crotch.
Brendan shook his head slowly. “You’re an idiot.”
The man chuckled. “What do women like?” This time, he seemed to actually consider the question. “I don’t think there’s any one thing. It depends on the woman.” He jerked a shoulder, went back to looking at the ball game. “Take Piper’s sister, for example. Hannah. She likes records, right? If I wanted to make her happy, I’d bring her to Seattle tomorrow. There’s a vinyl expo happening at the convention center.”
“How the hell do you know that?”
“It just popped up on the internet. I don’t know,” Fox explained, a little too quickly. “The point is, you have to think about the specific woman. They don’t all like flowers and chocolate.”
“Right.”
Fox started to say something else, but a series of notes filled the room. It took Brendan a moment to realize his phone was ringing. He shifted on the couch and tugged it out of his back pocket. “Piper,” he said, hitting the answer button immediately, trying not to be obvious that just the promise of hearing her voice sent his pulse into chaos. “Everything okay?”
“Yes. The building is still intact.” She sounded breezy, relaxed, totally unaware that he was across town trying to unlock whatever magic would give them a chance for a future. “Um, would it be a lot to ask to borrow your truck tomorrow? There is this amazing, artsy chick on Marketplace selling a shabby chic chandelier that we need, like, absolutely need, for the bar. For forty bucks. But we have to pick it up. She’s located between here and Seattle.”