But today…

“I’m thirty-one, Soph,” she blurted out.

“You always were good with numbers,” Sophie said. “You know what else we could go count? The huge number of presents, and even bigger number of people here to see you.”

“See me what, turn old and wrinkly right in front of their eyes?”

“Okay, stop,” Sophie said, planting her fist on her hip. “Do you have any idea how obnoxious you sound? Thirty-one isn’t even close to old, and you know perfectly well that you don’t look a day over twenty-five.”

Her sister’s criticism chafed at Brynn’s raw nerves. “Give me a break, Soph. Like you’ve never had a sense of panic over an impending birthday?” Brynn snapped. “I distinctively remember you going on a rampage about how your eggs were going to turn into raisins when you turned twenty-nine and Gray refused to turn his office into a nursery just in case.”

“Yeah, but that’s me. You know perfectly well that I am the whiner of the family. You always rise above pity parties. I thought it went against your moral code, or whatever you call that notebook of yours.”

“It’s my life list, not a moral code.” She hated how snobbish her tone sounded.

Sophie’s eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute. That’s what this is about. Your stupid list.”

Brynn began rummaging in her purse for her lipstick. Her nude lipstick. The same color she’d been using for almost a decade. “That’s not it,” she said primly.

Sophie snickered. “Oh, it sooo is. Isn’t there a thirty-five-before-thirty-five clause or something in there? Or is that an entirely separate list, not unlike your Thirty Things to Do Before Thirty, and your Fifty Before Fifty list.”

“If you’re going to make fun of me, I’m not going to talk about this with you,” Brynn said as she applied a careful swipe of the lipstick.

But Sophie had already latched on to the topic. “Your hyperorganized little mind is running through all of the things you were supposed to have done by now. That’s why you want your birthdays to slink by unnoticed.”

Something squeezed in Brynn’s chest. “I just…I thought I’d be engaged by now.”

There.

She’d said it.

And she knew how it sounded. She’d practically delivered a death blow to feminism. Modern women didn’t need a husband. Brynn didn’t need a husband.

Except…it was on her plan. And what was the point of having a plan if you didn’t stick to it?

She didn’t bother looking at her sister to gauge Sophie’s reaction. She already knew her sister would be incredulous, and possibly a little outraged.

But Sophie wouldn’t get it. How could she? Her younger sister had married the man of her dreams before the age of thirty, and was happier than she’d ever been in her life.

“But, Brynny, it’s just not your time,” Sophie said softly. “And I thought things with James were going great? He’s looking for you, by the way.”

James.

Right. She felt even more ridiculous for stressing about her marital status when she had a perfectly wonderful boyfriend. A boyfriend who was currently stuck making small talk with people he barely knew because she was lamenting the lack of a shiny ring on her fourth finger.

She was pathetic.

“Listen,” Sophie said, helping herself to the sugar-free gum from Brynn’s purse. “I know you probably have some grand plan of where you’re supposed to be by this exact date. But it doesn’t always work like that. Or, you know, maybe marriage just isn’t in the cards for you.”

Again, that tightness in her chest. Dammit. “It is,” Brynn said firmly. “I know it is.”

“Okay,” Sophie said with strained patience. “Then it will happen. Someday. But hiding out in the bathroom isn’t going to get you there any faster. I hardly think James is going to get marriage-minded with a woman who spends inordinate time in the restroom.”

True. So true.

Brynn gave her sister a spontaneous hug. “I love how you always say the right thing in the weirdest way.”

Sophie hugged her back before tugging at the hem of her flouncy blue cocktail dress and dropping into a small curtsy. “I do my best.”

“You know, you might have given me a hint about this party so I could have dressed accordingly.” Brynn looked her sister up and down. “You’re not supposed to outshine the birthday girl.”

Sophie waved her hand. “Please. Outshine perfect Brynn Dalton? Impossible.”

Brynn gave a forced smile. Because once upon a time it had been very possible to outshine Brynn Dalton. But now wasn’t the time to take a trip down memory lane. Although, come to think of it, the whole hiding-in-the bathroom thing was an all-too-familiar blast from the past.

A past that involved crying in the bathroom through most of second grade. And third…and pretty much every horrible day up until she’d finally begged her parents for braces, contacts, acne medication, and a regimented weight-loss program.

At fifteen, she’d finally figured out how to do it right. It had been the start of her lists. Lists that kept her from ever being the one that stood out from the crowd to be pointed at and laughed at.

Her lists and plans had kept her from ever having to sit alone at lunch, or hook up with a guy who was out of her league.

Her lists were her life. And she wasn’t about to fall off the wagon at age thirty-one.

Besides, coming in second place to Sophie was just fine with her. God knew she was used to it.

Her sister was especially sparkly tonight. Sophie’s dress was the perfect color to offset her bright blue eyes. And unlike Brynn’s own boring “brown” pumps, Sophie’s were a shocking orange. The look should have been garish, but instead was completely charming.

“Charming” was something the younger Dalton sister had in large doses. If Brynn was the smooth and reliable one, Sophie was the fun, alluring sister. Even Sophie’s hair was more fun. Despite the fact that their long blonde hair was almost identical in color and texture, Sophie’s was always styled in a mess of wild yellow curls. Brynn’s own long hair was kept perfectly straight. A style that suited Brynn perfectly even if it did feel a bit…boring.

“Not boring. Respectable,” Brynn reminded herself under her breath. Although she’d learned early on that there were a lot worse things to be called than boring.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sophie said as she dragged Brynn toward the bathroom door. “You’re respectable, and you’re beautiful, rich, and successful. Everyone adores you. Blah, blah. The only person who RSVP-ed ‘no’ to your party was Aunt Philly, and that’s just as well because now we don’t have to hear about her hemorrhoids. But—”

“There’s a but?” Brynn interrupted.

Sophie paused at the door and spun back around. “You have to promise me to loosen up. Forget that damn list for once. Drink too much champagne and have drunk sex with James back at his place.”

Brynn carefully kept her face blank. She and James hadn’t been having much of any sex lately, but there were some things even one’s sister didn’t need to know.

“Fine,” Brynn said reluctantly, “but if Mom starts on one of her rampages about how I’m not getting any younger…”

“I’ll handle Mom,” Sophie said as she shoved Brynn through the door. “You just get yourself some bubbly booze, and embrace another fabulous year in the life of Seattle’s most gorgeous orthodontist.”

“Yeah, because the competition is pretty stiff in that category,” Brynn said as she plucked a glass of champagne from a passing tray.

“There you are,” said a familiar male voice from behind Sophie and Brynn. “Everyone’s been wondering what happened to you two.”

“Ladies’ room,” Sophie said, sliding an arm around her new husband’s waist.

Gray Wyatt raised an eyebrow. “The entire time?”

Sophie raised an eyebrow right back. “Do you really want details?”

Gray grunted and fell silent. Silence was something Grayson Wyatt did a lot of. Brynn should know. She’d dated the man for about five seconds of tepid boredom before he and Sophie had spontaneously combusted. Not that anyone ever remembered Brynn and Gray’s romantic history. Probably because it hadn’t been the least bit romantic.