If the conversation continued on like this, she might have to mop her spirits off the floor. “So what am I supposed to talk about? Fishing? Then I’ll be even weirder.”
“Let him talk first. Act interested, but not too interested. Answer his questions with more than a yes or no, but keep it brief. And the less serious you seem about a relationship, the better. You hang out a couple times and make him think he wants to be in a relationship.” Paul twisted the silver spinner so that it was hook-side up. “Then you’ve got him hooked and reeled in before he even realizes it.”
“I suppose I bash him on the head to get him to stop flopping around and fighting it, too,” Brynn said.
Paul laughed. “Probably wouldn’t hurt. I think dragging him to your plays and quoting Shakespeare is about the same thing.”
“You really do wonders for the self-esteem, you know that?” She’d expected him to tell her to find someone who understood her and liked the same things. Maybe get tips on where to find that guy. But she supposed this made sense, as much as she hated to admit it. She always said too much too fast. Except with Sawyer, and that was more because she’d tried to avoid talking to him as much as possible.
Oh my gosh, Paul’s right. With Sawyer, I’ve held back, let him think I was some diva actress, pretended I don’t care about him, and he’s all about it. That’s why he kissed me.
She straightened, resolve filling her. “I can do this. I can keep things light.”
“It’d be better if you knew how to flirt. And before you ask, no, I can’t teach you. You’re my sister and it’s weird. Maybe call Dani for that.”
“I’ve seen you flirt, actually, and trust me, you’re the last person I’d ask.” She gave Paul’s shoulder a playful shove.
He laughed, and she joined in. But then she caught movement by the front window, and she stared at the guy standing just outside, his hand on the door. It looked like…surely not. Fate wasn’t that cruel, was it?
Apparently, it was, because Sawyer Raines was totally coming into the Bigfish Bait and Tackle. Brynn’s pulse thundered through her ears. She couldn’t face him. Not yet. And not in here. “I have to go…get something!”
She tried to sneak out the back door, but she’d forgotten to unlock it this morning—which was a total fire hazard on top of being damned inconvenient. She didn’t have the keys, either.
“What the hell are you doing?” she heard Paul say, but she ignored him, frantic for an escape. She glanced around and then ducked behind the shelf with the waders. Because if you were going to hide from someone, there was no better cover than rubber boots that go up to the armpit, right?
Man, up close, these things totally smell.
All her blood was rushing through her head as she heard Paul greet Sawyer and ask what he was looking for. This is ridiculous. I should just stand up and tell him I work here.
But then she’d have to talk to him, and she’d have to introduce Paul, and then all her lies—which were more like innocent miscommunications, really—would come undone. After all, Sawyer was the one who’d assumed she was from LA. She’d never said it.
Had she?
Crap, what if he recognizes Paul? He was a few years older than she was, so she doubted Sawyer would know him, and even if he did, he wouldn’t realize he had a little sister in his class unless Paul brought it up, and why would he do that?
She leaned forward, even though her thighs were starting to burn, straining to hear what they were saying. “…thinking of doing some fishing from the shore,” Sawyer said.
“Do you need a pole?” Paul asked.
Brynn glanced behind her at the poles and started praying he didn’t. If he caught her back here, she’d just lie down and die. At least it would be a dramatic exit.
“No, I’ve got a good one.”
I bet you do, she thought, her face heating even though she hadn’t said it aloud. How mature was she? It was official. She’d finally lost her mind, and it was all Sawyer’s fault.
Her phone rang, and she swore as she scrambled to pull it out and shut it up. She hit answer and held her breath for a moment. When she was sure she was in the clear, she lifted the phone to her ear and whispered, “Hello?”
“Brynn? Why are you whispering?” It was Dani.
“Long story.” Brynn cast another glance toward the register. She could make out Sawyer’s feet and the low murmur of his and Paul’s voices. Her brother glanced in her direction, forehead all scrunched up, and she shrank back farther. “What’s up?”
“Turns out Wes does have a friend who’s single. He’s a cop, and he’s helping Wes by going out and trying the adventure tours with him, making sure they’re in the clear, legal-wise and such. He’s super hot, too. I was thinking it’d be fun to all get together so you could meet.”
A sliver of hope shone through. Cop. Hot. What more could she ask for? “Yeah. Sounds good.”
“Cool. I wanted to check with you before setting it up. I’ll see when he’s free and call you once I have the details.”
Brynn disconnected the call and slid the phone back into her pocket. Suddenly everything Paul said hit her, and her stomach rolled over. She’d probably ruin her chances with the prospective guy within a few minutes of their date—she’d never been good under pressure, and she was even worse if there was a cute guy involved. I might as well call off the date now. Save myself another hit to my dissipating ego.
She heard the ding of the register opening, and then, a moment later, the chime over the door. Footsteps approached and then Paul was staring down at her, arms crossed. “Didn’t we just have a talk about not acting crazy? That’s the first guy not in the senior-citizen-discount age to come by in a while, and you’re back here hiding.”
“That was the director of my play.”
Paul glanced over his shoulder.
She inched closer to the boots. “He’s not still here, is he?”
“No, but he seemed like a nice enough guy. I don’t get why you’d hide from him.”
Well, he kissed me yesterday, and I liked it. That sounded straitjacket insane, so she shrugged. “He sorta thinks I’m from LA.”
Paul raised an eyebrow. “You told him that?”
“Not exactly. He assumed and I just…let him. A few minutes ago, you told me I needed to not be myself.”
“I said hold back. I’m not even sure what you’re doing.”
Brynn used the shelves to pull herself up. “I’m surviving.” She thought about telling Paul the truth. He’d never understood how hard high school had been for her, but when she’d told him the occasional story here and there, he’d actually gotten pissed that people had treated her the way they did. So she didn’t want to get into that, and she didn’t want to explain, and she wasn’t sure how her life had ended up in this weird place.
“If it’s that bad, maybe you should quit the play,” Paul said.
“No, I’m fine, really.” What she needed was for the cop guy to be as interested in her as Sawyer seemed to be right now.
So how do I pull that off, with me being me?
A crazy idea started to form. Apparently acting like someone else was working with Sawyer, and according to her brother—and her dismal lack of a dating life—she needed to learn how to flirt. This could be the perfect opportunity. When Sawyer acted interested, she could see what worked and what didn’t. If he stopped talking to her, then fine, it’d make rehearsals easier. But if it worked, she’d know what to do when she met the right guy. It’d be like the ultimate dress rehearsal. “Actually, I’ve got everything under control.”
…
This was out of control. Sawyer was watching out his window for Brynn to come home, because apparently he was a masochist who enjoyed being dissed by the same girl over and over again. He couldn’t help himself, though. Kissing her had awakened a part of him he’d forgotten existed, and he wanted to see where it went, even if common sense told him to let it go.
Besides, his arms ached from all the w
ork he’d been doing on the house, and he needed a break. So he’d pulled his old fishing pole out of Mom’s garage and bought bait. At first he was going to go out alone—he probably should—but then he got this idea that he’d show Brynn they could hang out as friends, and then she’d see how much fun he could be. And then eventually, he could kiss her again.
Damn, he wanted to kiss her again.
Just when he was about to give up, her blue Camry pulled up. He grabbed the trash bag for an excuse to be outside and headed out the back door.
“Hey.” He could actually feel his pulse pounding in his neck. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this nervous. Or the last time he’d just jumped in without fully thinking things through. He forced his limbs to move forward and toss the bag of trash in the Dumpster. “About yesterday…” He considered saying he was sorry, but he wasn’t, and he didn’t want her to take it as an insult. Shit, he should’ve planned this out better.
She kicked the grass with the toe of her shoe. “Let’s not talk about yesterday.”
Fine by him. “So, I was about to head down to the lake for some fishing, and I think you should come with me.”
She glanced at her house, and he sensed he was losing her.
“Just two friends hanging out,” he said. She slowly turned back to him, and his gaze drifted toward her lips. He was going to have to avoid looking at them if he was going to get through this act-like-friends thing. “I’ve got a spare pole and everything we’ll need…”
The breeze stirred her hair, sending strands of it into her face. She swept it back and tucked it behind her ear. “Okay. Let me change clothes and feed my birds first.”
“Birds?”
“You know, little feathered creatures with beaks and wings?”
He smiled. He shouldn’t like that she was mocking him, but it sent warmth through his chest—yep, total masochist, because he wanted more. “Need any help?”
“No thanks. I’ll only be a minute.” She disappeared into her house, and he went to grab the equipment. So, friends… He could ask her about LA. Where she went to school, things like that. Oh, and he could show her how to fish. Friends put their arms around each other when they showed them things, right?
Well, this friend was going to, anyway.
…
“What do you think, guys?” Brynn asked her parakeets, spinning for them to show off the pink and white sundress she’d thrown on. “Does this say I’m a city girl who is only moderately interested in what you do or say?”
Lancelot ignored her, but Guinevere chirped.
“Good enough for me.” She definitely wouldn’t mention the fact that she talked to her birds—she knew that much even without Paul’s help. But she kept what her brother had said in mind. Stick with light topics and conversation. No quotes from plays or books or movies. Interested, but not too interested.
Maybe I’ll try a flirty smile. She backed up so she could see into her mirror and attempted a couple, then decided she should keep her lips pressed together. Smiling made her cheeks stand out and gave her a total chipmunk look. No wonder that’d never worked before.
And now I’m psyching myself out. She slid on her sunglasses. That was better. She put her hand on the doorknob and told herself this was like any other dress rehearsal. You saw what worked, what didn’t, then you made notes and tried it again. It was okay if she bombed it.
Only then she opened the door and Sawyer was standing there holding fishing gear. She desperately wanted to prove she could play it cool with a guy like him. Never mind the fact that his grin sent her stomach up near her throat.
“Ready?” he asked.
Probably not. But here goes nothing, anyway. “Lead the way.”
They walked the short distance to the shore together, and while Brynn’s first instinct was to fill the silence, she kept her mouth closed. Instead she focused on the light breeze cooling off the heat of the day and stirring up the scent of clover and the mossy smell from the lake. Most importantly, she was waiting for Sawyer to take the lead in the conversation and see if this way of doing things actually worked.
Sawyer set his fishing gear in the grass. He didn’t say a word as he got the pole ready, giving her time to study his profile and the way the muscles on his forearms stood out as he put the Scum Frog on the end of the line.
Not like that kind of thing impressed her. Much.
“This one’s for you.” He extended the fishing pole to her. She took it, but instead of moving away as she’d expected, he stayed right next to her. “Summer’s a good time for top-water baits.” He lifted the hook with the little frog-looking lure on top. “These are called Scum Frogs. They’re good for fishing in places other lures can’t go without snagging on moss, around the weeds and lily pads, for example.”
Brynn smiled. “Ooh. Nice name.”
“Most lures have goofy names.”
You’re telling me. She wrinkled her forehead, like this was all news to her. “But fish would actually eat a frog?”
“The big fish do, and that’s what we’re trying to catch.”
She grinned at him. “The big fish. Of course.”
The ditzy act was actually working. He was so proud to explain to her something that she’d learned when most girls were playing dress-up princesses.
“Okay, so casting is a bit tricky.”
There was acting, and then there was straight-up lying. Brynn figured this landed in column B. “Actually, I do know how—”
He put his arms around her, one hand on her hip and the other moving down her arm to the hand holding the fishing pole. “What was that?” he asked, his breath against her temple. She could feel the heat coming from him, not to mention the hard muscles underneath his clothes, and suddenly, she didn’t remember how to cast.
“Where do I put my hand again?” Okay, any minute he was going to call her out.
“Hold this button down with your thumb. We’re going to swing it back…” He guided her arm and his fingers gripped her waist tighter. Heat was spreading from his touch, winding its way through her body. “Then we’ll swing it forward and let go of the button. Ready?”
She nodded. He started to move her hand forward and she hit the release button way too early. Hey, if she was going to act, she might as well go all out.
She faked a pout. “Guess I’ll be catching all the fish that swim in the grass.” She looked over her shoulder at him, and he was so close she could see the stubble along his jaw and his pulse beating at the base of his neck. She licked her lips. “I think you’re going to have to show me again.”
Keeping his arms around her, he reeled in the line. “Don’t worry, it sometimes takes a couple of tries, even for people who’ve been doing it for a while.”
Brynn bit back a smile. All this time, she’d been wracking her brain, trying to figure out how to get a guy, but ruining it by talking about things like acting. Who knew that all she needed to do was to use her performance skills on them?
On the second cast, she let go at the right time.
Sawyer squeezed her shoulder. “A little early, but that’s okay. It’s hard to cast that far at first.”
Early, my ass. That’s where I want it, right in the lily pads. But she didn’t say that. She held back, just like Paul told her to, sticking to smiling and blinking.
“Now slowly reel it in, so it looks like a frog moving over the water, and hope a big bass comes to take a bite.” Sawyer picked up his fishing pole and cast his own line—too far, because he was obviously trying to show off. When he moved closer to her, she didn’t move away, even though their lines were probably going to get tangled.
He grinned and nudged her with his elbow. “Fun, huh?”
It was impossible not to return his smile. “Totally.” Oh yeah, she was totally rocking the LA girl persona now.
“So, tell me about living in Los Angeles.”
“I…really can’t describe it.” Literally. Well, she supposed she could go with the gener
ic things she got from watching movies and television. “It’s…sunny. There’s the beach. Palm trees. The Hollywood sign. Rodeo Drive. Movie stars. Smog and traffic. Yep, good ol’ LA.”
He stopped reeling in his line and studied her, so intently she was glad for the sunglasses, because it seemed like he’d see into her soul otherwise, and it’d definitely tell him she was a big fat liar. “And if I said I was thinking about moving there, what would you say?”
She focused on the familiar feel of the weight of her line, how it skipped and bumped through the weeds but didn’t tug enough for it to be a bite from a fish. “I guess that depends on why you want to go there.”
He looked out at the water for a moment, the setting sun giving his profile a golden glow. “One of my screenplays got made into a movie—and it was amazing seeing my story on the big screen, something I’ve dreamed about for years. Even though it’s done well and there’s interest in the one I’m writing now, it’s still a very competitive career, and according to my agent it’d be good for me to move to LA and”—he made air quotes—“‘immerse myself.’”
“Immerse yourself. That sounds…” She stopped before she said, Sounds like a life I’d hate but good luck with that. Because it wasn’t about her, and she wasn’t supposed to be overly opinionated, but should be turning it back on him. “Is that what you want? To be one of those LA guys who talk movie biz? Name drops and drives a Porsche and that kind of thing?”
“I wouldn’t say no to a Porsche.”
Brynn laughed. “Well, you’d definitely fit in with all the pretty people.”
Sawyer raised an eyebrow, and a smug smile curved his lips. Oops. That slipped through the filter. This was supposed to be the wave-the-sparkly-lure-at-him time, not… Okay, she so wasn’t going into that analogy right now. But she was fairly sure he was still interested.
Act Like You Love Me (An Accidentally in Love Novel) (Entangled: Bliss) Page 7
