Page 20 of Something Borrowed

ChapterEight

The breeze from the slammed door made several sheets of paper flutter off the desk and scatter on the office floor. Brigid lunged for the papers, gathering and sorting them back where they belonged.

How dare Grady tell her she wasn’t a good friend, that she was ruining the wedding? Who did he think he was, the wedding God? Caroline told her to work in the office, said her father wouldn’t mind. Did that sound like someone who was angry about her working? No, this was Grady’s issue, still pissed off that Brigid chose her work instead of a relationship that had no chance of success. She bent her head and started reviewing Peterman’s edits to her documents, becoming lost in the minutiae of the deal, putting aside her irritation in favor of work.

A short time later, a noise from outside turned her attention to the windows. Grady had stripped off his shirt, the September heat affecting him even with the ocean breeze just yards away. He and Matthew were playing frisbee, laughing and having fun. Caroline sat on the short rock wall around the patio as she laughed at the guys, her long brown hair streaming in the wind. They were all relaxed and having fun. And where was she? Buried in the office, studying legal documents, lease agreements, and banking contracts. For the first time, Brigid resented her job, the demands it placed on her, and the toll it was taking on her life.

Grady thought she didn’t want what they had, didn’t want to have fun or have a life, or whatever he called it? It was not the right time for her to do it. She wanted to be out there so badly, but if she did, what would happen to her job, her plans, her goals? She’d lose out on this opportunity for the promotion and have to wait a whole year. That didn’t seem like a long time, but once she was passed over, her chances of getting a promotion again were reduced, and she couldn’t afford that—not when she’d worked so damn hard to this point.

Laughter drifted in the windows, and sea air teased her senses, reminding her of simpler times, of friends and fun, of camaraderie and happier times. When she was less stressed and not so tense all the time, snapping at everyone about everything. She slumped in her chair and rubbed her burning eyes, gritty and tired from staring at her laptop screen. What would it hurt to join the party for the night?

Nope, she deserved this break. She’d worked harder than her colleagues, and Peterman was only punishing her for daring to go away and escaping his control. He’d never pull this shit on Terrence. Shouting drew her attention and Grady crashed to the ground, missing the frisbee. Brigid leapt to her feet and ran to the window, but Grady rolled over onto his knees, laughing like a lunatic. She breathed a sigh of relief.

Dammit. Screw the papers. She could work on them later.

Before she could change her mind, she went upstairs and changed into shorts and a t-shirt. She headed downstairs, where she grabbed a beer from the fridge, one from Grady’s six-pack. She didn’t think Grady would miss one bottle, and she had gotten the taste for it while hanging out with him. She popped the top and joined Caroline on the rock wall.

“Hey, I thought you were going to be locked away all day. Glad you could make it.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I don’t have a choice. Do you understand?” Brigid asked.

Caroline shot her an enigmatic glance before turning her attention back to the guys who were wrestling for the frisbee. “I just want you to be a part of this week, not separate. I understood when we were in college that you had to work and take summer classes, and I was fine with that. But you found time to spend with us.” Caroline grabbed Brigid’s hand and clasped it tightly. “I know we can never go back to who we were in the past, but I want to have one week with my best friends. Just one week. Can you please promise to do your best to join in?”

Brigid dropped Caroline’s hand and pulled her close into a hug. “Absolutely. I’m sorry that I have to do this but I will try to be present for everything. You’re important to me, as is your wedding.”

A towel was rudely tossed in her lap, separating the girls, and Grady flopped on the ground in front of her. Matthew sat on the wall next to Caroline and took a bottle of water from her hands. Grady snagged the bottle out of Brigid’s hand and held it out of reach, taking a deep swallow.

“Hey! That’s my beer,” Brigid protested.

“Actually, it’s my beer that you brought me. At minimum, I deserve some of it.”

Grady held it out of reach and she lunged for it, slipping, then falling off the wall and onto his lap. He wrapped an arm around her, holding her in place against his side. He set the bottle down, leaning against the wall and shifted onto his back so she lay directly on his front. She levered up on her hands, but he held her firmly in place, laughter suddenly gone and replaced with heat. Caroline and Matthew discreetly got up and left, leaving them in their own world.

His hands rode low on her hips and his arousal pressed against her shorts, separated from her by only a few layers of light clothing. He dragged a thumb just under her hem, caressing the sensitive skin between her shorts and shirt. Perspiration broke out on her back that had nothing to do with the September sun. Sudden silence around them made Brigid look over her shoulder. Dimly, she heard the door to the house close, leaving her and Grady alone, as private as they could be outside on the lawn. Thank goodness their nearest neighbor was nowhere in sight and dunes hid the house from the private beach.

“They left.” Grady murmured. “We have no audience for this.”

He slid a hand up her back to cup the back of her head. He pulled her down to him, and pressed his lips to hers gently, tentatively, as if expecting her to pull away. Instead, she buried her hands in his hair and kissed him back, shutting down her brain and just feeling.

* * *

Grady felt the shift in the kiss, in Brigid, when she relaxed into him. He slid his hand down her back, then up and under the shirt to feel her soft skin, which he had been craving since Friday night. He hadn’t realized how much he needed Brigid, how deeply she had gotten under his skin, until she had rejected him Friday night.

He deepened the kiss, spreading his legs until she was cradled between his thighs, her legs rubbing restlessly against him. Her hands cupped his head, and she took over the kiss, controlling the intensity. But Grady rolled to his side, flipping her on her back, reversing their positions, taking control back from her.

He settled between her legs, his arousal pressing against the vee at the juncture of her thighs. Only a few layers of cotton, and the threat of other people seeing them, prevented him from stripping down those shorts and sinking into her wet heat. He slipped his hand under her shirt and cupped her breast, rubbing a thumb over the nipple until it peaked in his hand. She moaned against his lips and arched into his fingers.

A car door closing in the distance shook him out of his haze and he reluctantly pulled his hand back, softening then breaking the kiss. Brigid looked up at him, her eyes unfocused and her mouth slack. He rubbed her lower lip with his thumb.

“We’re good together, Brigid. We’re more than just sex. Someday you’ll figure that out too.”

Slowly, his words penetrated, and her eyes sharpened. She pushed him off and struggled to a sitting position, adjusting her clothes. Grady propped himself on one elbow and studied her, sipping the beer that had miraculously not fallen during their interlude. After a time, he spoke, amused despite his uncomfortably aroused state.

“Are you ever going to look at me?” he asked.

She paused. “I never said we weren’t good together. But there’s more to a relationship than sex.”

“But it’s a start.”

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