Something Borrowed (Lone Star Match Book 2)

by Megan Ryder

  “Seriously, Brigid? You’re going to dive right into work instead of spending time with your supposedly best friend?”

  The scorn in his voice made her pause, penetrating the jumble of legalese that was racing around her head. She blinked, clearing the fog from her brain.

  “Caroline knows I’m in here. Besides, she knows how this works. Her father and fiancé both have had to do this.”

  He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, folded his arms in front of him. He had changed into cargo shorts and a t-shirt that fitted entirely too nicely to his sculpted chest, one she loved to explore in bed. The shorts fell just short of his knees, revealing his strong legs and the fine dusting of hair that excited her when he rubbed against her during sex. Damn, she really needed a fix.

  “They’re not doing it before her wedding.”

  His words and scowl pulled her out of her thoughts, reminding her that they had broken up a few days prior. But they were sharing a room and a bed for the week. The potentials were limitless.

  “Her father is working all week.”

  He pushed off the door and stalked across the room, planting his hands on the desk and towered over her. “He’s not her bridesmaid. When will you realize that there’s more to life than your job? When you’re old and lonely? Because that’s where you’re headed, Brigid. Alone and lonely.” He shoved himself off the desk. “I’ll be outside with my brother and soon to be sister-in-law, celebrating their upcoming wedding and having fun. When you figure out what that is, join us. Until then, I hope your papers make you happy.”

  He strode out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

  *

  Grady stormed out of the office and into the kitchen where Caroline was seated at the kitchen table, eyebrow raised. She set her pencil down and the list she was making and gestured to the seat across from her.

  “Something wrong, Grady?”

  He wanted to smile and make a light comment or even say nothing and not add to the stress of the wedding, but he couldn’t fake it, not this time. He opened the fridge and scanned the contents. His gaze fell on the Buffalo Bayou Ale Brigid had brought for him, an apology of sorts. As if a six-pack could make up for ripping his heart out and stomping all over it, not to mention ruin the wedding that had been years in the making.

  With friends like Brigid, one really didn’t need enemies.

  He snagged a bottle and twisted it open, tipping it back for a long swallow. It was really good beer. But still not good enough to accept it as an apology. He leaned against the counter, peeling the label absently.

  “Grady? Want to talk about it?”

  Her soft words brought him back to the present and he sighed. He sat at the table and stared at the beer. Finally, he spoke. “Doesn’t it bother you that she’s working instead of out here helping you? I’m sure you have a ton of things left to do this week.”

  She glanced at her list and shrugged. “Not really. You forget, I plan parties for a living. Granted, they’re fundraisers but still, at their essence, they’re just fancy parties. The only difference with my wedding is that I won’t be behind the scenes.”

  She looked over at him. “It bothers you though. Bothers you that she’s working and ignoring you.”

  “I should be used to it. I mean, it’s not like we’re dating or anything.”

  “Oh really?”

  He snorted. “Really. I know what you’re thinking, Caroline, but it’s just sex, nothing more. And, in point of fact, we’re not even doing that anymore.”

  She frowned. “This isn’t good. What happened?”

  “She said we weren’t right for each other, that we had different paths and goals in our lives.”

  “Is that true?”

  He jerked his head. “I guess. I mean, I know she has to work extra hours to make partner but when will it end? Will it ever end?”

  Caroline smiled, a hint of sadness in her eyes. “You’re asking the wrong person. I grew up with a father who worked more than he was home. And now I’m marrying someone very similar. Maybe we do marry our fathers.”

  “Well, Brigid is nothing like my mother, thank God.” Although, in his mind, he was starting to wonder.

  “Are you sure? I’ve met your mother and I love her. But she has her own goals is very focused on achieving them. She may not be looking to make partner but she wanted her status and position. Sound familiar?”

  He grimaced. She was right. His mother had left his father when Grady was young, looking for money and status, not happy being the wife of a contractor, living the simple life. And she found her ticket, her path to her goals. Matthew had benefits from the connections their stepfather had, good schools, the right families, a great setup for the perfect life. Grady, on the other hand, was his father’s son, interested in building things and living a simple life. He rejected college, not having the patience to sit in a chair when he wanted to be out working with his hands. Then his decision was made for him when his father was diagnosed with Parkinson’s and dementia, influenced by years of alcoholism and not taking care of himself. That was when Grady stepped in to make sure his stubborn father didn’t get hurt on the jobsite, and to rescue the business that his father had almost destroyed.

  Grady had worked hard in the years since he took over, his father slowly stepping back. Grady hadn’t seen his mother more than a handful of times since she had left, mainly at events for Matthew, once he and Grady had reconnected. Matthew had found him and his dad when Matthew turned eighteen, determined to know the other side of his family. He tried to help Grady where he could, financially with their father when he needed more care than Grady could afford, and even with business. Grady suspected some of the money, especially for the business, had come from his mother and stepfather, possibly as a way to deal with their guilt, but Grady had been forced to accept it, if only to help his father. Coming through Matthew had assuaged Grady’s pride and he accepted, paying it back in four years, with interest. Now, his business was in the black and he was finally ready for the next step in his life.

  Too bad Brigid had other ideas.

  “Shit.” He rubbed his hand over his face. “Maybe Brigid is right and we’re doomed.”

  She laughed and pulled his hand down from his face, gripping it tightly in her hand. “Grady, it’s not the same thing. Trust me. You’re good for Brigid, I can see it. Now, you just need to make her see it.”

  He smiled. “I don’t think so, Caroline. She’s made it perfectly clear that we’re too different. We only connect in bed.”

  “So, show her that she’s wrong.”

  “How? I can’t even get her out of the office.”

  She pulled back. “Sorry, buddy. I can’t answer that for you. Maybe you need to show her that you can connect out of bed. Get her out of her books and laptop, and into the real world. Maybe then she’ll see you in a different way. And I think you’ll have that chance this week.”

  The words were said with a mysterious air and he stared at her. “So, it’s true. You are matchmaking.”

  She smiled secretively and looked away. “Maybe. This gives you the chance to get her to see you in a new light and for you to show her another way to live. I hate seeing Brigid bury herself in her work, trying to please people who will never be happy with what she’s done. There will always be another goal to chase, another symbol of success. I want her to see another way, to make her own decisions for what she wants to do and not what someone else tells her she should be doing. I think you can help her with that. If she’s worth it.”

  “She’s worth it.” He vowed fervently.

  “I think you’re the only one who can see that. She pushes everyone else away but, for some reason, she’s let you in. Use every trick in the book, Grady, to push the envelope and get under her skin.”

  He grinned. “She acted jealous of Janine earlier.”

  “Janine?” Caroline looked confused.

  Shit. Grady scrambled for a plausible excuse. “Janine Edgerton
. Her father had called me in to advise on some renovations they’re doing to a house. We stopped there on the way here.”

  Caroline cocked her head and looked up at the ceiling, tapping a finger against the table absently. “Brigid is never jealous. Interesting. Yes, this could work well. I think you need to do more work on that renovation this week with Janine. See how far that pushes her. Then step back and be prepared for the fireworks.”

  Fireworks accurately described Brigid. He only hoped she wouldn’t burn him in the process.

  Chapter Eight

  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 that 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? She did but now was just not the time for 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 greatly and she couldn’t afford that, not when she’d worked so damned 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.

  Damn it. Screw the papers. She could work on them later.

  She headed upstairs and changed into shorts and a t-shirt before she could change her mind. 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, 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 spoke quietly, almost under her breath.

  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 make every effort 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 on to 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 on to 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 sound of 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. I think someone is here.” 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, something 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.

  It wasn’t just sex, although that was pretty fantastic. But Grady had thought they were connecting on a deeper level. She always told him it was just sex, and it started that way, but now, he wanted more from her, wanted to spend his life with her. Only she didn’t feel the same way.

  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 several moments, he spoke, amused despite his uncomfortable 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.”

  She shifted onto her knees. “Grady, we can’t keep going over this. I care for you, too much to pursue something that can only end badly.”

  He reached up and pulled a twig from hair. “It doesn’t have to. We can work through it, if we want it bad enough.”

  “Grady.” Her soft, sad words twisted his heart.

  He rolled onto his back and put his hands behind his head, cushioning him on the grass. “Well, I could always see if Janine wants to be my date to the wedding.”

  He glanced sideways at her to see her reaction. Brigid had gone rigid, her face stony, her eyes flashing fire. When she caught him looking, she tossed her hair and looked at the house, avoiding his amused gaze.

  “I don’t care. But I think Caroline would be pissed if you invited someone at the last minute and you can’t invite her during the week. Caroline was very specific on that.”

  “Or you would have invited your friend Mike?” The last word was said with a hint of bitterness.

  At his words, she turned and looked at him fully, her eyes reflecting regret. “I’d never hurt you like that, Grady. I only want you to be happy.”

  He pushed up on an elbow. “Then why not give us a chance?”

  She got to her feet, irritably brushing her clothes. “Is this how our week is going to go? You constantly haunting my every step, begging me to consider dating you?”

  He also stood and studied her. “No, only until you can give me a good reason why we won’t work out.”

  He tilted the bottle of beer back and took a long swallow, not missing how she was riveted by his chest. He handed the bottle to her and stepped close, invading her personal space. She swayed on her feet, unconsciously leaning in towards him. He swiped his shirt off the wall and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.