But Brynn’s plan backfired. James hated her house. Hated that she had to hire someone to mow the lawn and water plants when they went on vacation. And the guy never missed a chance to remind her that she was too young to be so far away from everything. Apparently he was so sick of the “wilderness” of suburbia that he’d resorted to kidnapping her.

After circling several blocks, James executed a perfect parallel-parking job. “You okay walking? We’re a few blocks from my place.”

“Now, see, if we were at my place, you could have just parked in the garage,” she couldn’t help griping.

James sighed as he pulled the keys from the ignition. “What’s wrong, Brynn? You’re irritable, and I’d like to understand why. So let’s have it.”

But she didn’t even know where to start. How about with the fact that her thong was riding up her ass? Or that her boyfriend apparently had no intention of marrying her in this century?

Or the fact that nobody had told her Will Thatcher was back in town?

She made a low, growling noise in her throat. It wasn’t fair to be mad at her family. They’d probably thought they were doing her a favor by not mentioning his arrival. It was no secret that Will and Brynn didn’t get along.

But still, a little warning would have been nice. Sophie might have at least mentioned that she’d invited Brynn’s mortal enemy to her birthday party.

Worst of all, the guy had looked…good. Brynn had always been so sure that the golden-boy good looks he’d flaunted in high school would give way to middle-age paunch and thinning hair. Instead, his blond, blue-eyed movie-star looks had improved with age.

His personality had not.

“I’m sorry,” she said, giving James a weak smile. “I think I had too much champagne. I have a headache.”

“No problem,” he said, easily accepting her nonexplanation like she’d known he would. He opened his door. “I think you were entitled to a couple extra glasses. You’re officially into your thirties now, after all.”

“Oh, by all means, let’s break out the confetti,” she muttered under her breath.

James came around the car to open her door for her as he always did, but she beat him to it. Normally she liked his old-fashioned chivalry, but tonight she wanted to tell him to shove it. He set his hand lightly on her back and she resisted the urge to squirm away. It felt possessive for someone who didn’t want to put a ring on it.

What was wrong with her tonight?

“It was nice seeing all of your friends in one place,” he said, as they strolled along the quiet Seattle sidewalk. “And it was good to finally meet Will. Your parents and Sophie are always talking about him.”

“Yeah, well, he’s practically been a part of the family ever since he and Sophie became inseparable.”

“Were they in the same class?”

“No, when Soph was a freshman, I was a sophomore and Will was a senior.”

And can we please stop talking about him?

James frowned as they approached his apartment building. “So he was closer to your age, but better friends with Sophie?”

“Sure, they dated for a while,” she snapped. “Why so interested in Will?”

James shot her a puzzled look as he let her into the building. “No reason. Just trying to put the pieces together.”

“There’s nothing to put together,” she said, jabbing the elevator button. “He was a horny senior who asked out a pretty freshman. They didn’t work out, but remained friends. Everyone thought they’d go all When Henry Met Sally, but then Sophie met Gray, and that’s that. End of sappy story.”

“Let’s get you some aspirin, shall we?” James said with an amused smile.

Whatever. Anything to get rid of this edgy restlessness and self-doubt that wouldn’t let go.

Ten minutes later, Brynn was changing into the lingerie she kept in one of his dresser drawers, when he came into the bedroom with tea and a bottle of pills.

“Thanks,” she said gratefully. She really did have a headache. Brynn accepted the mug and glanced up at him through the steam. She sometimes forgot that James was handsome. Not in a showy way. His dark brown hair was kept short. Shorter actually than suited him, now that she thought about it. And his eyes were a nice, sexy gold color. He worked out daily, and it showed.

And yet, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt genuinely attracted to him. The sex was infrequent and vanilla. And she didn’t think it was all her. It wasn’t like he was making accidental boob-brushes or reaching for her in the middle of the night.

But maybe that was okay. She was looking for a spouse, after all, not a sex toy. She’d never been one of those sappy, unrealistic types that expected the two should overlap.

“Shall we get you into bed?” he asked, turning the covers down.

Brynn felt both relieved and dismayed that this was apparently going to be another platonic night. “You’re not coming?” she asked, crawling between the sheets.

“Nah, I recorded the Mariners game from earlier. You don’t mind if I go kick back?”

“No, of course.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.” He brushed his lips against her forehead and ran a hand over her hair. “And Brynn?”

“Mm?”

“Happy birthday. I hope you don’t think I was overlooking it. I was just playing it down, since I know you’re not a fan of birthdays. I tried to tell your sister, but…”

“I know. Sophie is…persistent.”

“But you’re not upset about the party? Or are the earrings not what you wanted?”

Brynn set her hand on his. He was sweet. Oblivious at times, but sweet.

“Just the headache,” she said, burrowing deeper into the blanket.

“Okay,” he said, pulling the covers around her chin. “I’ll make breakfast tomorrow?”

“That sounds nice. Just granola, though, since I won’t have time to work out before my first appointment.”

She heard the bedroom door close behind James and rolled onto her side to stare out at the cloudy night. A lump formed in her throat. Had her life really become a string of just-granola mornings?

Something was seriously wrong.

And it wasn’t just that she was another year older.

It wasn’t just that her boyfriend was proving to be a bit self-absorbed.

What really had Brynn terrified was that in the moment after she realized James wasn’t going to propose she’d felt…

Relieved.

And she feared that the relief had everything to with the reappearance of one William Thatcher.

CHAPTER FOUR

Help your neighbors and they’ll help you.

—Brynn Dalton’s Rules for an

Exemplary Life, #98

Brynn hadn’t even had a chance to get to her locker when her best friend pounced on her in the hallway, dragging her into an alcove.

“What the hell, Angela?”

But her annoyance faded into concern at the stricken expression on her friend’s face.

“What’s wrong?”

Her friend chewed her lip. “You haven’t seen?”

Brynn glanced at the clock on the wall. She had seven minutes until first period. Not nearly enough time to deal with Angela’s penchant for drama.

“Haven’t seen what?” she asked impatiently.

Her friend wouldn’t meet her eyes. “You know how the other day after cheer practice you said someone had taken your bra out of your bag in the locker room?”

Brynn felt heat rising to her face as she looked around in embarrassment. “Jeez, say it a little louder.”

“Well, I think I found it,” Angela said, wrapping a hand around Brynn’s wrist and dragging her toward the door.

Brynn’s heart began to thud nervously.

Not again. It couldn’t be happening again. Not when she’d come so far.

Moments like this were exactly why she’d refused to let her parents send her to St. Thomas Preparatory after eighth grade with the rest of her classmates. She needed a fresh start at the public school. Needed to find a place where she wasn’t Dumpy Dalton.

Where people didn’t stuff her book bag with candy bars, or make fun of her buckteeth whenever she had to give a presentation.