Page 6 of Silent Partner (Pine Falls 3)

Brant’s dress shoes tapped against the wood floor as he marched straight back toward his kitchen, which I’ll admit I’d fallen in love with. Kitchens were my thing, and his was glorious. Gray and natural brick walls, granite countertops for days, a commercial-size refrigerator, high wood-beamed ceilings . . . I could go on forever. And I could easily see myself happily cooking away in the amazing space.

“I’ll pop some popcorn.” He sounded nervous. “You can have a seat if you want.” He pointed to the family room off the kitchen. His large flat screen hung above the majestic fireplace with an ornately carved mantel.

I took the hint that he wanted his space and shuffled over to the beautifully decorated room with its rustic-framed black-and-white photos of the Colorado landscape. I looked at his furniture setup—a large leather couch front and center with two side chairs. I took one of the chairs. It was the friendly thing to do.

While Brant hunted for some microwave popcorn, I tried to think of something to say. Normally, this wasn’t an issue. We always had things to talk about, but something had changed tonight. I could feel it in the air.

“Do you think Ariana has left screaming yet?” I threw out there.

Brant punched a few buttons on his microwave. “No. Jonah is determined to win her over this time.”

Lucky her.

Brant walked into the family room to the sound of the popcorn popping in the microwave. His gaze fell on me, and his brow scrunched.

I sat straight as a pin, wondering what was causing his consternation.

“The couch is more comfortable,” he blurted.

I’m sure it is, but I knew I shouldn’t get too comfortable—with him or his place. “I’m good,” I lied as positively as I could. I was excellent at sounding chipper when I was anything but. It was a gift and a curse. Honestly, as far as the chair went, it was comfortable. All we had at the loft I shared with Ariana and Dani was some hand-me-down furniture. Brant’s leather accent chair was a more than adequate place to sit. However, I would have loved nothing more than to snuggle up close to him on the couch. Jill is coming back to town, I reminded myself.

He sighed and walked off.

I felt as if I’d said something wrong, but I didn’t know how to fix it, so I sat there twirling my hair while the scent of buttery popcorn wafted my way.

Brant was back in no time, holding a bowl. “Would you like something to drink? I’ve got sparkling water or wine,” he offered.

“I’m okay for now, thank you.” Definitely do not drink any wine. There will be no lowering of inhibitions tonight.

He set the popcorn on the driftwood coffee table and took a seat in the middle of the couch. “Sorry, this isn’t as good as the maple caramel bacon popcorn you make.”

That was good stuff, but I’d eaten too much pie to be even remotely interested in anything sweet right now, except maybe Brant’s kisses. Stop thinking like that. “This is great.” I made no effort to reach for the buttery goodness. I turned and set my sights on the TV. That’s where I planned to focus all of my attention for the night. It was the safest option.

The giant screen flickered to life. Soon, some words appeared on the screen, and Brant read them out loud like an excited child: “A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away . . .”

Suddenly the iconic Star Wars music blared over his surround sound. I was at least familiar with the movie’s soundtrack.

Brant continued to read all the words that were now scrolling on the screen and seemed to be giving a synopsis of the story. Whatever it was, Brant seemed enthralled with it.

I couldn’t help but peek at him. He sat on the edge of his seat, eyes fixed on the screen—that is, until he noticed I was staring at him. He smiled over at me. “You’re going to love this,” he promised.

For him, I knew I would. I turned back toward the screen, gripping the arms of the chair, trying to keep myself grounded in my seat. I watched the movie like this for several minutes, taking in droids, space princesses, stormtroopers, and a cute farm boy.

“You look uncomfortable,” Brant broke the silence between us.

“I’m fine,” I said super cheerfully before inadvertently rubbing my neck, all while refusing to look his way. So maybe the angle I was sitting at wasn’t all that great. I had wanted to kick off my shoes and curl my feet under me so I could turn my body more toward the screen, but that seemed too daring. Like I was making myself at home.

“You’re going to be in pain by the end of the night looking at the screen that way. Come sit on the couch.”

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