“Oh my God, you did already.”
He nodded. “They’re free.”
“So, that leaves tonight. Should we?—”
“Order takeout and eat in bed?”
I grimaced. “Eatinbed?”
“Or on the floor in front of the fireplace—the onenearthe bed.”
I smiled and shook my head.
“Tell me what you’re thinking right now.”
“How much I love you, Mason Finch.”
The biggest smile I’d ever seen spread out across his face. “Yep, that’s what I thought.”
ATTICUS
Iended the call with my mother and set my phone on the nightstand, listening to Brenna singing in the shower.
“Mom says four o’clock tomorrow works perfectly,” I said, stepping inside, tempted to take off all my clothes and join her. “She’s already planning dinner and probably calling my sisters as we speak.”
The water shut off. “Did you tell her about us?”
“I said we had news to share in person.”
“So that’s a yes.”
I picked up the towel and wrapped Brenna in it when she opened the glass door.
“Your mother’s not stupid. She’ll know the second we walk in.”
“Probably knew before we did.” I dropped the terry cloth and pulled her against me despite her damp skin soaking through my shirt. “You nervous about tonight?”
“About Luke?” She tilted her head back to look at me. “Terrified.”
“He’s going to be happy for us.”
“Or he’s going to gut-punch you.” She traced her finger along my jaw. “Better than your face, though. I’d hate for him to mess up this handsome mug.”
“Your brother hasn’t thrown a decent punch since his second year at the academy. I’m not worried.”
When she laughed and stepped away, heading for the closet naked, I whistled and, for the second time, thought about stripping out of my shirt and pants, both of us getting back in bed, and fucking her senseless.
Instead, I went downstairs and checked my email. Nothing new this morning, which didn’t bother me any. I wanted to focus on Brenna today, not on the mission that would pick back up the minute we set foot on Valley Ridge Resort and became Atticus and Bronwyn Nolan again.
Knowing she preferred her eggs poached, I made two for her and two for me, then stuck wheat bread in the toaster.
Brenna appeared in jeans and a blue sweater that made her eyes even more striking. She’d dried her hair but left it down, and looked younger, less like a badass federal prosecutor and more like the girl who used to challenge everything Luke and I said just to prove she could.
“Looks good,” she said, sliding onto a barstool. “You’ve come a long way since my brother used to call you Pyromaniac Perry.”
I chuckled, remembering when he and I were freshmen and I’d attempted cooking in our dorm room, something that probably should’ve gotten me expelled if our AOC hadn’t laughed his ass off over it.
I slid eggs onto her plate.