Page 13 of Something Borrowed

“Sort of.”

Janine hefted the work belt and paused at the stairs, an enigmatic look on her face. “If she can’t see how great you are, she doesn’t deserve you, Grady.”

“I’ll be back soon.”

“No hurry,” her voice called down from the top of the stairs. “You’ve done enough damage.”

“Ha. She has the lights for the living room. I’ll swing by with them.” He stomped out the door, limping slightly on his injured foot, but he still heard her voice drifting down from the upstairs.

“Can’t wait to meet this girl.”

ChapterFive

The ferry ride was uneventful, too windy to pull out any of the papers and a little too unsteady for Brigid to concentrate. The last thing she needed was to get sick all over the documents, so she rested her eyes and ran through her to-do list, and her excuses, for the week. Once they docked, she dragged her suitcase, the garment bag, and the box of lighting for Grady. He owed her big time for schlepping the materials that he should have remembered. She wasn’t his gal Friday, even if she was Peterman’s.

She let others exit the ferry first, the few cars and then the passengers. Whitby Island was small, and they restricted vehicle traffic as much as possible, encouraging tourists to stay in the town and use local transportation, including bikes and local taxis if necessary. Only the people who owned houses in the gated part of the island needed a way into town, and they were advised to only have one or two cars per house. The island used narrow, windy roads that were not maintained perfectly to reinforce their wishes.

Brilliant, really.

Once most people had disembarked, Brigid gathered her things and stacked them on the travel cart she had bought once at an airport. It wasn’t quite enough, but it would help. She paused, sweat dripping down her back in the September heat. Even the cool air from the ocean couldn’t quell the perspiration. She muttered under her breath, a low curse for the man who couldn’t be bothered to show up when she was helping him.

“I’ve got that.” Grady reached around her and effortlessly lifted the box with the lighting and propped it on his hip. “That cart is pretty much useless.”

“It helped me get everything here so I wouldn’t call it useless,” she replied tartly.

“Yeah, thanks. You saved me a trip back to Houston. I found these lamps at a flea market one day and showed them to Matthew for the cottage. I completely forgot them, and we need to install them this week.” He eyed her briefcase. “Looks like I’m not the only one planning to work, either.”

She held up a hand, staving off the argument. “Not another word. Let’s go.”

She hefted her briefcase and garment bag and wheeled her suitcase behind her. Grady started to follow, then paused. “Brigid? Did you forget something?”

A six-pack of Buffalo Bayou Ale, a craft brew from a local brewery in Houston, remained on the floor where all her belongings had been. Grady quirked an eyebrow at her. She shrugged.

“I didn’t think you’d find your favorite beer on Whitby, and I figured you didn’t bring any.”

He considered her for a long moment, then nodded his thanks. He swept the six-pack off the ground and headed off the ferry. Brigid trailed after him, feeling oddly off balance. He hadn’t complained about her bringing work, even though she asked him not to talk about it, nor had he brought up their argument. It was like they were mere acquaintances. It didn’t feel right at all. True, their relationship had been nothing like Caroline and Matthew’s, but even though Brigid called it a friends with benefits arrangement, now that it was over, she realized it might have been a little more than casual sex.

After they tossed their stuff in his pickup truck, he headed down away from town, still silent. Finally, Brigid couldn’t stand the suspense any longer.

“Are you ever going to talk to me again? Or even look at me?”

He glanced over. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know, Grady. Maybe because I broke your heart on Friday?”

He snorted, a mirthless sound. “Don’t give yourself too much credit, Brigid. I just thought we might want to take our relationship to another level. You disagreed. It’s over.” He shrugged. “I can handle it just fine.”

“Really?” She arched an eyebrow. “That wasn’t the impression you gave Friday night.”

“I was disappointed. Sue me.”

His nonchalant attitude dug under her skin like a splinter. His refusal to look at her reinforced her sense that things were still not right between them. Maybe they never would be. But, for Caroline and Matthew’s sake, she had to try, had to make sure they were okay for the wedding week. Lord knew, with Delaney Winters and Anna Costado coming, they’d have enough drama, and Brigid hated to add to it.

“Grady, please. Pull over for a second. We have to talk before we get to the house.”

For the first time, he really looked at her. “We’re not going to the house. I need to make a stop.”

“Where?”

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