Page 34 of Silent Partner (Pine Falls 3)

Huh. Brant and me, here alone. I mulled that over, not sure it was a good idea for my heart. Except he’d said he might have some good news, and I could definitely use some of that. I was trying not to get my hopes up, but maybe, just maybe, he had a solution to this mess. I knew if anyone could figure a way out, it would be him. Perhaps I should ask him how to fall out of love with him. One thing I knew for sure was that I was going to be smart. If I let him come over here, it would be business only. I wouldn’t even bother getting out of my sweatpants. In fact, I might even put on my old painting T-shirt. No trying to look cute for him ever again.

“Kinsley,” he said when I mulled a little too long without responding. “I don’t want to intrude if you have plans; I just thought it would be best to meet as soon as possible. And I wanted to meet Oscar after hearing so much about him,” he teased me.

I smiled to myself, though I was embarrassed. How many times had I mentioned my cat to him? Regardless, I had to be on guard. He was too charming. “Oscar and I don’t have plans. What time works for you?”

“I could be there in half an hour.”

I swallowed hard, trying to get my heart back down my throat. “Okay,” I squeaked.

“Great. See you soon.”

I hung up, totally on edge. I held up my sweet kitten. “Well, Oscar, get ready to meet the love of my life. Just promise you’ll scratch me if I even think about having more than friendly thoughts about him. I’m talking go for the jugular if you have to.”

Oscar nudged me with his cold, wet nose. I took that as his agreement to maim me if necessary.

I texted Jai back.

Not giving up. Stay tuned.

Chapter Eight

I paced near the front door, holding Oscar, waiting for Brant to arrive. The old hardwood floors creaked, and I realized how drafty the old place was. I thought about starting a fire, but that screamed date to me, and this definitely wasn’t a date. There were zero romantic thoughts in my mind. My entire ensemble said, single-for-life zone. Sweats, hoodie, fuzzy slippers, messy bun, no makeup, cat.

Brant must have sped because he arrived well before the half-hour mark. I jumped when he knocked on the door. I held Oscar up to my face. “Remember, go for the jugular if you have to.”

I crept toward the old oak door and unlocked it, but said a silent prayer asking for strength before I opened the door.

Brant stood on the porch smiling, carrying a laptop case and a pink gift bag bursting with tissue paper.

“Hi,” I said so breathily Oscar should have scratched me for it.

“Hello,” he said, smooth as silk.

It was then I noticed how nice he looked. We’re talking black dress pants tailored to put all other dress pants in the world to shame and a crisp button-up in the perfect shade of light green. I looked like a slob in comparison. Which was the plan. Not like he cared how I looked. Or maybe he did, as his eyes roved over me. He was probably thinking I had let myself go.

“You look great,” his sultry tones played in the cold breeze.

I laughed nervously. “You’re lying, but thank you.” I waved him in.

He stepped in but stopped right in front of me. His eyes were doing that whole capture-my-soul thing. That’s when the tingles started in my head and began to work their way down my body. About halfway down, my brain kicked in. No one was stealing my soul ever again. I held up Oscar.

Brant smiled as if he knew I had stopped him from reeling me in. Was he trying to? Were my grandparents right? It didn’t seem possible. Regardless, I wasn’t allowing it. “This is Oscar.”

Brant set down his laptop case before rubbing Oscar’s head. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Oscar purred louder than ever before. He was such a traitor. Though, I got it. I would purr, too, if Brant petted me. Which was why I was never going to let him. Assuming he wanted to, that is.

I shut the door even though I needed the cold air. I was feeling awfully warm. We needed to get to business.

“You can have a seat.” I pointed at the leather couch Brock had bought me last year after poor Dani had ruined the old burnt orange one we’d had in the loft. She’d been lying on the couch when her miscarriage had begun. I’d never seen so much blood in my life and prayed I never would again. How she’d survived was a miracle in my estimation.

---