Page 9 of Something Borrowed

“Happiness is overrated. Security matters. The law is secure.”

He slammed his hand into the wall. “Your father has brainwashed you. You can be just as successful in another field. And happiness is way more important than security. I know your father stressed the importance of a good job, independence. I get that. But I doubt he means you should kill yourself over it.”

She stared at him. “You know nothing about me or what I want.”

“You always drink scotch at the firm events. You even say you love it, but you don’t have a bottle in your house. You care more about what they think about you than what makes you happy.”

She folded her arms. “That’s because drinking alone is a sign of depression and alcoholism.”

He stepped into the kitchen and opened a cabinet. “But you have wine. Four bottles. But no scotch.”

“For guests. And that proves nothing.”

He let out a frustrated breath. “I also know that property law bores the shit out of you.”

“Bullshit.” She bit off the word through gritted teeth.

“Remember your internship at Legal Aid? Helping people? Making a difference? You loved that.” When she folded her arms and remained stubborn, he slammed the cabinet shut with more force that was needed. “This is getting us nowhere fast. I should go.”

She held up her hand. “Wait. You brought dinner. At least stay for that.”

He eyed her shrewdly. “You’re hoping to convince me to engage in some stress relief sex. Well, maybe you should get a vibrator because this walking sex toy is out of batteries. Keep the food. I’m not hungry.”

He grabbed his jacket and headed for the door before her voice stopped him.

“What about next week? The wedding? Caroline now thinks we’re dating and, trust me, she’s going to pull some matchmaking shit.”

Leave it to Brigid to worry more about what other people think than what was really important. Then again, maybe that was what was important to her and maybe he had dodged a bullet here.

He didn’t even turn around. “Tell her what you want. I don’t care.”

She looked down. “Well, I was going up with you.”

He whirled around. “You still want a ride? Fine. I’m going up tomorrow. I have to finish the cottage renovation before the wedding. What time should I pick you up?”

She bit her lower lip, looking down. “Um, I have to work tomorrow. Having a whole week off will put me behind. I have to make up some of the time. I was thinking Sunday.”

He was shaking his head before she even finished. “Not going to work. I have to be there tomorrow. And you promised Saturday was fine. Another example of how work is more important than anything and anyone else. Can you get a ride with one of the other girls?”

It was her turn to shake her head. “Anna is coming from California, and I don’t know about Delaney. Caroline and Matthew are headed over tomorrow, too.”

“They can’t know I’m there. Remember, the renovation is a surprise.” He warned her.

She shot him a dark look. “Do you think I’m stupid? I know that. Look, I’ll drive myself. Can you pick me up at the ferry? I can’t take a car on the island. And Sunday, I’ll take the noon ferry.”

He nodded, stiff and formal, as if talking to a stranger. “Fine. Text me if you’re going to be late.”

She glared, clearly frustrated with his distance. “You make it sound as if you expect me to be late.”

He shrugged, giving up on the situation. “You’ll probably go into work in the morning and lose track of time again. Text me.”

He opened the door, but she laid a hand on his arm. “Are we okay, Grady?” she asked quietly.

He didn’t turn, wanting to show her the heartbreak reflected in his eyes. “Yeah.”

When he closed the door, the click echoing in the hallway, he felt like he had closed the door on his future.

ChapterFour

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