Page 8 of Falling for Mr. Wright

Ryan pulled out the paper plates from the bag, handing one to Bridget. “I can’t believe you think I’d do something so conniving to get laid.”

Bridget raised an accusing eyebrow.

“Okay, maybe I like feeding Sarah’s sweet tooth with your desserts, but you can climb off your high horse, Martha Stewart. It’s not working.” He added shrimp fried rice to his sister’s plate. “She’s got the hots for Logan.”

“Oh, really?” Bridget picked up a carton, tipped it over, and dumped most of the crab rangoons onto his plate. Smart girl. “Who could blame her?” she continued. “Logan’s mighty sexy—even if he did turn me down.”

He chuckled. When they were kids, Bridget had followed Logan around like a puppy dog. She’d finally made an unsuccessful play for him Ryan’s senior year of college during “siblings week,” climbing into Logan’s bed naked when he’d gone to the bathroom. His best friend had politely brushed off her advances and slept on their futon that night.

“Well, get this,” he said and popped a rangoon into his mouth. “Sarah asked for my help.”

“To do what?”

“To make Logan fall in love with her. She wants me to share everything I know so that she has an advantage.”

Bridget’s eyes went wide, and she let out a hearty laugh. “Wow. That girl has spunk.”

“Tell me about it.”

“She has no idea that you like her, does she?”

Ryan focused on the carton of rice. He’d kept whatever he was feeling for Sarah to himself, but what would be the harm in confirming what Bridget already suspected? It wasn’t like anything was going to happen between him and Sarah—not now. “She has no clue.”

“So, obviously you said you’d help her, right?”

Did his sister not hear what he’d just admitted? “Why would I do that?”

“Because if you don’t, she’s going to try anyway, and what if she succeeds? Then you really won’t have any chance of getting her. This way…” She slapped his knee when he rolled his eyes. “…this way, you control the message.”

He chuckled. “Spoken like a communications pro.”

“Think about it,” she pressed. “Maybe you’re not out of the race. Tell her about Logan, sure, but take this opportunity to let her really get to knowyou. Let her discover the things you both have in common. Then she’ll have more than enough information to make an informed choice.” She popped one of the crab puffs into her mouth and winked. “My money’s still on Logan.”

“Thanks,” he said sarcastically, knowing she was only teasing him. “I don’t know if I want to be in the race. I’m more of a lone wolf kind of guy.”

“It’s because you’re comfortable. And maybe a little afraid of giving your heart away and getting it broken again.”

Not going there.“Maybe I just like being single.” He picked up one of Bridget’s socks that she’d left on the floor and flung it at her. “Besides, where would your sorry butt go if I got into a relationship?”

“I’m a big girl. I’d figure something out.” She threw her arms around him and gave him a big squeeze. “Promise you’ll put your horse in the ring.”

“Hat in the ring,” he corrected.

“Horse, wolf, hat…whatever. Just do it.” Her phone buzzed, and she snatched it up off the coffee table. “Speaking of hot men, that’s my teacher,” she said, grinning a little too big for Ryan’s liking.

“Tell him that for your next assignment I suggest you dress in a nun habit, carrying a Bible.”

She spun around in her high boots. “I’ll be sure to do that. Don’t forget to take Sarah the cupcakes. She’ll be moaning your name in no time.”

Ryan rolled his eyes. “Iwillkick that man’s ass if he hurts you.”

“And that’s why I love you,” she called, dashing off to her bedroom.

He settled into the sofa, his gaze coming to rest on the red envelope he’d left on the coffee table since he’d received it last month—the one bearing his ex’s return address.

Inside it was the winter gala invitation.

He picked up the envelope and stared at Melanie’s married name on the card. She’d always said he was the right man for her, even lobbied senior year for him to be voted Mr. Right. He’d been completely blindsided when two weeks before the wedding she’d called at two a.m., saying that she’d done a lot of thinking and she wasn’t ready to get married.

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