Page 7 of Something Borrowed

Regret.

She walked to the kitchen, trying to avoid the questions her evening had raised. She looked at the list on the refrigerator door. Her father always said to make a list of her goals and plans to achieve them, then post them somewhere she could see them every day.

She really needed to add something about her perfect man. Maybe she needed to add the criteria from her new mentor at the firm.

Someone who could provide her with connections and status to bring business to the firm and business contacts and prestige. Someone who was not a home contractor, no matter if he owned his business, building it up from the ground to become one of the premier historical preservationist contractors in midtown and living comfortably. Someone who could be the best partner on paper, never mind if he supported her emotionally and provided what she needed at a vulnerable time in her life. No, Grady didn’t go to the right college, move in the right circles. He drank beer, not scotch. He had a small house in midtown, not in River Oaks. He enjoyed playing football, not watching it in a box. He was not in the circle they wanted her to cultivate—and he had no intention of joining them.

Being with Grady could jeopardize her entire future at the firm, could prevent her from achieving her goals that she had been working toward her whole life. The only bright spot in this total fiasco was that they weren’t dating. Too bad he was the only man who ever really supported her without question or asking for anything in return. Even if it was just a friends-with-benefits situation. How would she explain this to Grady? How could she let him go, especially with the wedding coming up in a week? The timing sucked, but it had to be done sooner rather than later. If she let it linger, then more people would be hurt, especially if Caroline decided they were a couple.

Maybe she didn’t have to make any decisions. They weren’t dating. They were having sex, nothing more. Maybe Grady wouldn’t care either way.

She opened the fridge and cursed quietly. Why did she always believe food would miraculously appear when she never had time to go grocery shopping? She grabbed the stack of takeout menus on the counter.

Thai. Chinese. Pizza. She pressed a hand to her stomach. Which would aggravate her stomach the least?

The doorbell rang before she could decide.

She opened the door and grinned, trying not to let her sorrow shine through. “Late again.”

Grady’s crooked smile greeted her as he held up takeout bags. “I stopped for food.”

Her stomach let out a loud grumble, as if demanding the food. She gestured inside the apartment and stepped aside.

Food, then sex. The perfect ending to a horrible week. She could wait on making any decisions. It wasn’t like either of them were looking for a future together.

* * *

Grady hesitated outside Brigid’s door, a feeling of impending doom stopping him from going inside. The argument that had plagued him over the past hour since the firm party had ended surfaced, casting doubts that started during the party. He couldn’t tell if she was embarrassed by him or if he had misunderstood, but either way, this whole situation wasn’t working for him anymore. Maybe it had never really worked, but he had been comfortable, willing to accept the relationship on the only terms Brigid would tolerate, because of her schedule and her plan.

That goddamn plan.

Brigid arched an eyebrow. “Coming in, cowboy? I’m getting hungry and you’re letting all the air conditioning out.”

He shook himself and strode into the apartment, tossing his keys on the table and shrugging out of his jacket. “I’ll bring this in the kitchen.”

She followed him into the galley-style kitchen and grabbed plates. He pulled out the Chinese food containers, handing her the beef broccoli and brown rice, while he took the General Tso’s chicken and white rice. Brigid’s stomach growled again, the sound filling the silence in which they worked. Grady, not having eaten much that day either, found himself nauseated by the smell of the food. Or maybe it was the tension left over from the evening’s activities. Either way, he was quickly thinking that it was a mistake coming here. Nothing good could happen this late at night.

As if sensing his troubled thoughts, Brigid stopped and leaned against the counter, laying a hand on his arm. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” he mumbled. Then sighed. “No, it’s not.”

He turned and looked at her, unsure where to start. “What’s the deal with you and me? I heard you talking with Matthew and your other colleagues.”

She frowned. “Shit. You heard that. I’m sorry, but you know the deal. This”—she pointed her finger between him and her—“is not an actual relationship. You know that.”

He pushed the bags away and folded his arms across his chest, suppressing a spurt of anger that had been simmering all evening, letting it unfurl inside. “So, what is it really? In my book, two people have sex, they have a relationship.”

“It’s not real. Grady, it’s that friends-with-benefits thing. Both of us have been too busy to have a relationship. You’ve been dealing with your dad and turning your business around. I’m focused on my career. We have no time for dating or anything.”

“Maybe I want something more.” He sounded like a petulant child, but dammit, it frustrated him that she never saw him, never saw the real Grady Coughlin.

She sighed. “Is this because of what I said to Matthew? We agreed to keep this quiet because Caroline will run with it and planning a double wedding if she had any idea. Neither one of us wants to be pushed into something we’re not ready for.”

“Wow.” He shook his head, rolling his eyes. “I feel so much better now.”

“Oh, Christ, Grady.” She threw up her hands. “Do we have to do this now? I’m dealing with a lot at work with this deal, and I honestly can’t handle a personal crisis right now. And with the wedding next week, can’t we just let it go for now?”

He pushed off the counter and walked into the living room, the food abandoned. “I don’t think so.” He paused, then asked the one question he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer to. “Do I embarrass you?”

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