“Yeah, what do they call it?” Will asked with false curiosity. “One could say…a fling?”

“Yes, a fling!” Marnie agreed in delight. “Because, Brynn, your father and I are quite modern, and we would completely understand if you…”

“We would understand, and we wouldn’t need any details,” Chris said with a pointed look at his wife.

Marnie winked at Brynn. She mouthed, Later.

Brynn mouthed, Never, right back.

And where the hell was Sophie? Of all the nights her sister ditched her, it was the one where her mother apparently wanted to talk sex. And Will looked like he was about five seconds away from telling her parents that they’d screwed like bunnies.

What’s the big deal? her subconscious demanded. Sophie already knew, so Gray likely did as well. What would it matter if her parents found out? They loved Will—they’d probably be thrilled.

The problem was her.

Brynn knew what she wanted. She went after what she wanted. Everyone knew that about her.

And Will had never been part of that plan.

She slowly forced herself to meet Will’s eyes, daring him to rat her out. He held her gaze with a faint mocking smile.

Once again, it fell to poor Lily to try to keep the conversation civil. “You know, Brynn, as a lone female in a male-dominated field, I know loads of guys who’d flip over you. Let me know if you want me to set you up on a date or something.”

I’ll do that. Just as soon as I start watching Star Trek and eating SPAM and painting zebra stripes on my fingernails…

Will was making a rude tsking noise. “Now, Lil, you wouldn’t know this because you just met Brynn, but she has a very exact type.”

“That’s true,” Marnie said as she began pouring coffee.

“Doctors, dentists…the occasional lawyer…” Will was saying.

“You make me sound like a total snob,” Brynn snapped.

For several seconds nobody said anything. Neither parent defended her. Nobody rushed to confirm that she wasn’t a snob.

“Got it, so I’m a total bitch, then,” she said, pushing her dessert plate away.

Her parents glanced at each other in confusion. “Brynn, nobody thinks that. And it’s true that you’ve always been picky, but…”

“Not always,” Will said under his breath.

Brynn fiddled with her spoon, her fingers itching for something with sharper edges that she could lodge in his solar plexus.

“Actually, Lily,” Brynn said with a forced smile at Will’s dinner date, “I could stand to expand my social circle a little. I’d love to meet one of your friends.”

She resisted the urge to issue Will a smug smile. Two could play at this game.

But he looked completely unperturbed. As though the thought of her dating someone else didn’t bother him in the least. Just like him bringing Lily here shouldn’t bother Brynn in the least. Except it did.

In hindsight, Brynn would wish that she hadn’t gotten so lost in her own musings that she’d failed to study Will’s face closely enough to know what was about to happen. That she might have had a chance to stop it.

But her guard was down, and she didn’t see the change in expression from pain-in-the-ass to downright asshole.

“Well, best of luck getting back out there, Princess,” Will said, raising a glass to her in a mocking toast. “Tell me, how many dates will it take before the poor guy gets a peek at your tattoo?”

A wave of red washed in front of her eyes as she tried to tell herself that that had not just happened. That she hadn’t heard Will mention her tattoo out loud. In front of her parents. In front of his new girlfriend.

Her mother snorted. “Will, don’t be ridiculous.”

Brynn started to reach out a hand to him. To plead. To beg. But he wasn’t looking at her. Instead he was turned toward her mother, his face all boyish innocence as he widened his eyes dramatically.

“Oh, it’s great, Marn,” he said. “It’s this cute little saying that sort of runs a sweet line from her crotch to her butt. See, I saw it up close when we—”

Brynn didn’t remember tossing her strawberry shortcake at him, but she would remember everyone’s stunned reaction to the goopy red dessert as berries slowly dislodged from his chest and dropped into his lap.

Without taking her eyes off his shocked face, she very primly dabbed her mouth before offering him her napkin with a sweet smile, then making a calm exit from the room. She paused only long enough to grab her purse before walking out the door.

For the first time she could remember, Brynn had just willingly turned her back on her dignity.

Because she had something much stronger to fuel her.

And anger and betrayal were one potent combination.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Falling in love is no excuse for behaving irrationally.

—Brynn Dalton’s Rules for an

Exemplary Life, #14

Can I take you out again?”

Brynn looked up at the handsome man standing on her front porch and wondered why she didn’t feel more than an indifferent hum.

Evan McCain was perfect for her. Handsome, successful, conventional. A lawyer. Stable. But the first date, which was perfect on paper, had been merely pleasant. All of her usual criteria were fulfilled, but she couldn’t seem to muster any excitement about a future date.

She studied his classically attractive face, and assessed. Her parents would love him—he was the ultimate son-in-law material. Her friends would approve. He’d fit in perfectly at her cousin’s elaborate dinner parties.

Sophie would be the only one less than impressed. She’d write him off as “too perfect,” which had never made sense to Brynn. What was better than perfect? Brynn had never understood why Sophie craved unpredictability, passion, and change. It was so messy.

But for the first time in her adult life, Brynn was beginning to wonder if her sister might be on to something. Perhaps Brynn was missing out on some crucial factor by only dating men who fulfilled her carefully configured checklist of required qualities.

She thought briefly of Will, but immediately pushed him away. Talk about a man who had none of her required qualities. Well, except for the looks, of course. Will was definitely handsome, if you liked the obvious, male-model thing.

Brynn hadn’t seen him since the depraved scene on his kitchen floor a month before. He’d called a couple of times, but she hadn’t picked up. He was probably calling to gloat that he’d found her underwear, which they’d been unable to locate during the awkward morning after. Brynn wasn’t adept at spontaneous sexual encounters, and she certainly had no idea how to handle the aftermath of this particular mistake.

She was ashamed to admit that she’d even lied to her family about having work on Sunday nights in order to avoid seeing Will at dinner.

“Brynn? Have I lost you?” Evan asked with a gentle smile. “How about next weekend?”

Oh, what the hell. The guy might be as exciting as Wonder Bread, but she was sick of being single.

“Sure!” she agreed with more enthusiasm than she felt. “How about Friday?”

Evan gave a quick victorious grin, perfectly masculine without being chauvinistic. It should have been appealing. Hell, even a month ago, it would have been appealing. Damn weddings and their false promise of romance—look at where all the talk about lifelong vows had gotten her. Up against the wall of Will Thatcher’s bachelor pad.

“Kiss me?” she said suddenly to Evan. He looked slightly surprised at her forwardness, but plenty willing.

She regretted her impulsive request as soon as Evan’s head dipped toward hers. But maybe the kiss of another man would banish the demon of that man. She tried to lose herself in Evan’s kiss, she really did. But the harder she tried, the more she realized it wasn’t right.

When they finally broke away, he too seemed aware at the lack of chemistry.

“You’re sure about Friday?” he asked.

Brynn forced a smile. “Of course! I look forward to it.”

He gave her a small smile, looking a lot less interested than he had before their lackluster kiss. He made some noncommittal comment about double-checking his schedule and calling her.