The Engagement Arrangement

by Jaci Burton

  Or maybe he had. Maybe he was testing the waters to see how she’d react.

  And now he knew. But he filed it away, because they were out on the water, it was a beautiful, cool fall morning and it wasn’t the time for deep discussion.

  After they finished eating, Finn got out the fishing poles and strung up their lines. They sat back and watched the sun come up over the hills while Murphy barked at the birds circling overhead.

  “How do you feel about a working mother?” Brenna asked.

  He shifted his gaze over to her. “What?”

  “Say you get married, and you and your wife have a child, and she wants to go back to work after she has the baby. How do you feel about that?”

  “I’d feel fine about it. Did you assume I’d want my wife to quit her job and become a full-time mother?”

  “I assumed nothing. I was just asking a question.”

  Since the topic had never come up, it was worth pondering. “I guess if she wanted to stay home and raise the kids, we’d discuss it. Otherwise, why should she give up her career? I’m not giving up mine.”

  “But what about the child? Who’s going to care for it? Have you thought about that?”

  “Actually, no, I haven’t thought about it at all since I don’t currently have a kid.”

  She glared at him as if he’d abandoned a child he didn’t yet have, but she let the subject drop while they continued to fish.

  Twenty minutes later, she asked, “What if your wife makes more money than you do?”

  He grinned. “Wouldn’t that be fucking awesome? There’s nothing better than success, is there?”

  “And then what? You’ll quit your job, sit on your ass and drink whiskey all day while she works?”

  He leaned back to study her. “Where did I say I’d quit my job? I just said my as-yet-nonexistent-wife making more money than me would be great. That I’d be proud of her. Not that I’d sponge off her.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Did you read some article or something?”

  “What?”

  “Some article about the shittiest kinds of men.”

  “No, I didn’t read an article. I’m just making conversation.”

  Yeah, conversation that felt accusatory, like it was directed at him and some terrible misdeeds he hadn’t yet done. Or wouldn’t ever do, for that matter.

  Suddenly his pole had a bite, so he got distracted reeling it in, a nice-sized bass that Brenna helped him net and slide into the cooler.

  “Good catch,” she said.

  “Thanks.”

  He set his pole back in the water, and it wasn’t thirty minutes later that Brenna had a nibble. He let her go at it since she’d been fishing with her dad since she was little and knew what she was doing. Plus, he enjoyed watching her cuss and then laugh as the fish fought her, and Finn knew if she needed help she’d have asked for it.

  She didn’t need it. She pulled in a bass of her own that was just a touch smaller than the one he’d caught.

  He tucked it into the cooler.

  “You really did a nice job reeling that one in.”

  She lowered her sunglasses and gave him a look. “Was there any doubt I could? Because I’m a woman you thought maybe I couldn’t handle reeling in that fish?”

  Now it was time to talk. He swiveled his chair. “Okay, Brenna. What’s up?”

  “What’s up with what?”

  “You know damn well what I’m talking about. You’ve been grilling me all day and finding fault with everything I said. So what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong. We’ve just been having a hypothetical conversation. Just for fun, you know?”

  She must have forgotten how well he knew her. And when something was bugging her, she’d dig in her heels and come up with some stupid game like this one instead of hitting things head-on like she should. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not having fun playing this game. Why don’t you tell me what’s actually on your mind instead of walking circles around it like you always do.”

  She opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. Closed it again.

  Yeah, there was something she wanted to say. And obviously she didn’t know how to say it, which made his stomach churn.

  Did she want to break up with him and she deliberately picked this circle jerk of a fight as a way to get things rolling?

  No. Brenna wouldn’t do that.

  What the hell was this?

  “I’m just in a mood, Finn. Can we let it go at that?”

  “Not if something is bothering you. You should tell me—we should talk it out. Holding things inside doesn’t make it go away.”

  “It’s nothing, really. Just worrying about things I shouldn’t worry about.”

  “Anything I can help with?”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  She kept her gaze firmly fixed on the poles and the water—anywhere but on him. And that worried him. He reached over and swiveled her chair to face him.

  “You’re not fine. I know you, Brenna, and you tend to internalize things when you’re worried about something. Does this have to do with you and me?”

  Even though it was cool out on the water, the sun had come up bright with no clouds, so her shades shielded her eyes from him, and her eyes had always told him everything about how she felt. He wished he could pull off her sunglasses so he could really see her.

  “It’s a lot of things. Work stuff and personal stuff.”

  His lips lifted. “I’m part of your personal stuff. Talk to me.”

  She reached out to curl her fingers around his jaw. “I think I didn’t get enough sleep last night and I woke up cranky. I wanted this to be a fun day for you and look what I did. I took out my bad mood on you. I’m sorry. Forgive me?”

  He didn’t think that was all there was to it, but she obviously wasn’t gonna give him anything else, and he didn’t want to ruin the day by pressing her. He took her hand and flipped it over to kiss it. “Always.”

  Then he pulled her out of her chair and onto his lap. Her body was chilled. “You’re cold.”

  “A little.”

  “Want me to warm you up?”

  She let out a soft laugh. “Yes.”

  He stood and placed her on her feet, pulled the poles out of the water and set them on the deck, then took her hand.

  “Come on. Let’s go below where it’s warmer.”

  There was a small area below with a bathroom and a tiny bed, barely enough space for one person to maneuver, let alone two. Or two and a half, since Murphy had followed them down and curled into a ball at the foot of the steps, promptly going to sleep.

  The tight quarters suited Finn just fine because it meant he and Brenna were cushioned together, close. She sat on the bed and toed off her boots and unzipped her jacket, shrugging it off and tossing it to the end of the bed. She leaned back, thrusting her breasts forward.

  “Now I’m getting warm,” she said.

  “Are you? Good. Me too.” He peeled off his jacket and shirt and shimmied out of his boots and jeans, then his underwear.

  “I don’t think I’m that warm yet.”

  He gently pushed her onto the bed. “I can get you warm.”

  She held her arms up in invitation. “You can? Show me.”

  He climbed on top of her, covering her body with his, his lips meeting hers in a tangle of hot passion.

  Maybe it was their earlier argument fueling his need, and maybe it was because he always wanted Brenna. He reached for her breast, cupping it through the material of her shirt.

  She moaned against his mouth, his dick twitching in response to the sound. He reached up under her shirt and bra so he could feel her skin and rub his fingers against her nipple until it tightened and pebbled.

  The sounds she made drove him crazy, made
him want to strip her naked and lick her all over. And damn this fucking bed for being so small and so hard to maneuver around. He managed to get her pants and underwear off. She rose up, bumping her head on the ceiling and letting out a string of curses that made them both laugh. He unhooked her bra, banging his elbow on the wall as he worked to get the straps down and pull the bra off.

  “This fucking boat,” she said while maneuvering around the tiny bed.

  “Hey, at least we’re not trying to do this topside.”

  “Trust me, we would not be doing this topside. I’m not into exhibitionism.”

  He kissed her breast, taking a long lap of her nipple. “Come on, where’s your sense of adventure?”

  She sighed. “Down here. Where it’s private.”

  He trailed his fingers along her ribs, down her stomach, cupping her sex and teasing her clit, then traveling lower until he slipped a finger inside her, rewarded with her gasp. “You mean if I got you all hot and bothered you wouldn’t straddle my lap on the chairs topside and let me fuck you until you screamed?”

  She shuddered, arching against his fingers. “Yes. I would. Do it now. Make me scream, Finn.”

  He moved his fingers against her, finding her clit, making sure to go slow at first, until she let him know she wanted more. And when she did, he gave it to her, her body writhing against his hand, making him sweat with all the hot sounds she made, the movements of her body, the way she looked at him, grabbing at his wrist as she came.

  He held her while she shuddered, until her body relaxed. She looked up at him, her lips curving.

  “Okay, done now. Let’s go fish.”

  “You’re funny. My dick is hard as a rock.”

  She reached between them to stroke his shaft. “Oh, and I suppose you want to do something about that.”

  He sucked in a breath, enjoying the feel of her touching him. “Unless you want me to go topside with a boner. Then what would our boat neighbors think?”

  “It would be scandalous. We should stay down here in this tiny bed and take care of your immediate problem.”

  She pushed on his chest and he moved. He thought she was going to get up so he flopped onto his back on the bed. But she didn’t get up. She surprised the hell out of him by straddling him.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  She wrapped both hands around his swollen cock. “Playing.”

  His heartbeat quickened as she inched down his body, teasing him with bites and kisses along the way.

  “Brenna,” he said, though her name might have come out as a choked whisper, because her lips wrapped around his dick and he lost the ability for coherent thought.

  Her mouth was warm and wet and her tongue flicked against the head of his cock, making his balls quiver. The feeling of release tightened inside him, but he held it back because the vision of her sucking him was the hottest damn thing he’d ever seen and he wanted it to last forever.

  But it couldn’t, because her mouth was too sweet and he was about to lose it.

  “Brenna,” he warned, reaching down to wrap his hand around her neck to pull her up.

  She shoved his hand away and gave him more. He lost it, shuddering hard as he came.

  He lay there for long minutes, his eyes closed as he came to the realization that his limbs were heavy and he might not be able to move ever again.

  But then he felt Brenna’s head on his chest, and her fingers trailing over his stomach.

  And okay, he could still move his toes, though he might have lost a few brain cells.

  Worth it.

  “So, how’s fishing?” she asked.

  He grinned. “Best day ever.”

  She laughed, rolled over and lifted her head to look up at him. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink.”

  He pulled her up so he could kiss her, then said, “Yeah, I’m thirsty, too.”

  They managed to maneuver out of the tiny bed and get dressed. Murphy had apparently given up on them and made his way topside, so they went upstairs.

  Murphy was curled up on one of the cushioned benches, asleep, the breeze ruffling his fur.

  “I think he’s enjoying the boat,” she said.

  Finn wrapped his arm around Brenna and kissed her, a long, satisfying kiss that made him want to drag her back downstairs. But the cramped quarters and the lure of more fishing made him rethink that idea. Besides, there was always later.

  Brenna pulled out a thermos of iced tea and poured it into their cups. They settled back into their seats and Finn adjusted the fishing poles back in the water.

  After several hours they caught a couple more fish, and then the skies clouded up.

  “Looks like rain’s coming in,” he said. “We should head back.”

  She nodded and they packed everything up. Finn started the engine and they headed back to the dock. They got the boat on the trailer and out of the water just in time for fat droplets of rain to start falling.

  By the time they’d exited the park, it was a deluge of rain.

  Finn looked through the windshield. “We left the water just in time.”

  “We sure did. I would have hated to be out in this.”

  “We could have gone below to stay dry.”

  She looked over him. “Uh-huh. With high waves and everything. Sounds utterly nauseating.”

  He laughed. “But romantic, right?”

  “Sure, Finn. Totally romantic. Until I throw up on you.”

  “You get seasick when the boat rocks?”

  “Definitely. Just ask my dad about the time the waves were high and he insisted on taking us fishing anyway. It was not a fun day for me—or for him.”

  “I’m sorry. Not easy when you get seasick.”

  “I’m sure you’ve never had a seasick day in your life.”

  “That’s true, but I grew up by the sea, was out on boats a lot, so I got my sea legs when I was old enough to stand. You’re not used to being out on the water a lot. You did good today, though.”

  She looked out the window. “The water was calm. And we weren’t at sea.”

  Somehow he got the idea it was more than just one bad lake adventure.

  “What else happened on the water?”

  She waved her hand. “Ancient history.”

  “Brenna.”

  “Mitchell and I went to Barbados for our honeymoon. We booked this catamaran cruise. It . . . didn’t go well. I got so sick. Mitchell was pissed off that we wasted money and he didn’t have fun.”

  Finn rolled his eyes. “Because it’s always all about him. Didn’t he care that you didn’t feel well?”

  “Not really. He walked me up to the room, I passed out on the bed and he went down to the bar. He ended up having dinner in the restaurant that night, and didn’t even come up to check on me.”

  “What a dick.”

  “Yes. I should have seen the writing on the wall then, but I was too sick to notice.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t waste too long on him. See? You’re smart.”

  She laughed. “Not smart enough. I still married him.”

  The worst of the storm had passed just as Finn got on the expressway, but there was a lot of water on the road so he stayed in the right lane since they were towing a boat. He glanced quickly at Brenna. “Don’t you think it’s time you let it go?”

  She frowned. “Let what go?”

  “Mitchell. So you married him and he turned out to be a jackass. That wasn’t your fault, Brenna. Quit beating yourself up over it. Lots of people end up with bad marriages. You got out of yours quickly, but you haven’t really moved on yet.”

  “Sure I have.”

  “Have you? It’s like every decision you make revolves around what happened in your marriage. It’s as if it defines you.”

  “No, it doesn�
��t.”

  “Really? This whole engagement thing came about because of Mitchell and Allison. How you didn’t want to be seen as single, which shouldn’t have mattered because you’re smart and successful and gorgeous as fuck. You should have been rubbing that in their faces instead of dragging me along as some kind of trophy fiancé.”

  She went dead silent and he knew he shouldn’t have said it, but fuck it, he had and it was the truth. She was an amazing woman who should be proud to stand on her own.

  When he pulled up in front of the house, he figured Brenna would bail for the front door as soon as the truck stopped. He grasped her hand before she could make a run for it. “Brenna, look. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. You know I would never want to hurt you. I care about you. But I also want you to be free.”

  “Free of what? Of you?”

  He frowned. “No, not of me. Of the pain you keep holding on to from the past. Of Mitchell and whatever hold Allison seems to have on you. You deserve better. But you and I seem to keep getting into these arguments that don’t make any sense, and I think it’s because you’re afraid to feel too deeply.”

  She blinked. “Oh, now you’re going to explain to me how I feel.”

  Shit. He was screwing this up. “No, that’s not what I meant at all.”

  “I’m tired, Finn, and I’ve got some things to do. Let’s regroup and talk about this later, okay?”

  “Yeah. Sure. I’ll take care of cleaning the boat and storing it.”

  “Okay, thanks.”

  She slipped out of the truck and he went around to her side to help her with the bags. He walked with her up the steps.

  “Brenna.”

  She turned, but didn’t look at him. “Yes.”

  “Thank you for today. I really did have a great time.”

  She nodded and went inside.

  He walked down the steps and climbed back into the truck, put it in gear and drove toward the garage.

  Way to fuck up a perfect day, Finn.

  But he wouldn’t take back what he’d said, because it was the truth.

  Dammit, he was in love with Brenna. And if that meant digging at her layers to get to the truth of how she felt, he’d keep digging. Even if it pissed her off.