Page 20 of Runaway Bride and Prejudice

“Why would that offend me?”

His lips quirk. “Because I implied you have terrible taste.”

“Okay,nowI’m offended.” But I’m not really, and Van clearly hears the lightness in my tone.

Which disappears when I start to think about Van’s question. WhatdidI see in Drew?

I fold my hands in my lap, feeling the absence of my wedding ring like a bruise. But I have Mom’s ring, and I twist it on my finger while debating how to answer this.

In the end, I decide this is one topic I’d rather not examine too closely right now. And I definitely don’t want to talk about it with Van.

“I plead the fifth.”

“This car isn’t a courtroom.”

“Then I plead temporary insanity.”

“Makes more sense,” Van says.

Van goes quiet, either a sign of a good listener or a man who’s wishing he never got involved with all this. With me. Or maybe he’s disappointed I clearly dodged answering his question.

The trees lace their fingers over the road, dipping us in shadows, quieting the buzz under my skin. Slightly. I don’t think it’s going away anytime soon.

“I’m sorry,” I start. “I just—Ow!” I rub my arm where Van just pinched me.Pinchedme! “What was that for?”

“Whenever you say you’re sorry, I’m pinching you. Got it?”

“New rule—I’m banning pinching.”

“Impossible to ban. Pinching is a clause under my no-apologies rule.”

“Any other clauses I need to know about?”

“I’ll let you know,” he says.

“At least don’t pinch sohard.” I rub my arm, which has a tiny red splotch now. “I’m going to bruise.”

“It wasn’tthathard,” he says. Then his smile drops. “Was it?”

“No,” I admit. “I won’t bruise. It’s fine. Is pinching a hockey thing? I thought y’all punched each other. Notpinchedeach other.”

“It’s anI have threesistersthing.”

“Three? That’s … wow.” I stare at Van’s profile, processing this information. “I think you told me that, but I don’t remember. Older or younger?”

“One older. Two younger.”

“This must be where this whole protective vibe comes from. I bet you chased off so many boys.”

“Too many,” he growls, his eyebrows lowering like he’s thinking of each and every boy who wronged each and every sister.

I think of him marching Drew into the bride’s room, the same expression on his face. I didn’t allow myself to think so then, but it’s a good look on Van.

I smile. “Well, thanks for extending your services to a non-sister.”

“You’re Coach’s daughter,” he says, like it’s a given.

Like that’s the reason he’s here.

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