“I thought that was how I wanted it,” Brenna said glumly. “And then he told me he loved me and told me about Heather and now I can’t stop thinking about things being different, and what it means for me.”
“You have cold feet,” Miranda announced.
Brenna straightened in the booth, frowning. “What do you mean, I have cold feet?”
“You are commitment phobic,” Miranda told her with a grin. She grabbed a few packets of sweetener for her coffee and tore them open. “I feel the need to throw in a ‘duh’ here but thought that might be unfair.”
Beth Ann gave a ladylike snort and sipped her coffee.
Brenna glanced at both women, uncertain. “You make it sound like it’s a bad thing.”
“It’s not . . . unless you fall in love.” Miranda’s mouth quirked. “Take it from someone with experience.”
“I never said I was in love,” Brenna protested.
“You never said you weren’t,” Beth Ann told her in a softer voice. “Honey, if you think it’s a big deal, just tell him about your past. Whatever it is, he’ll accept it because he loves you. And if he doesn’t, then he wasn’t the man for you anyhow.”
“Easy for you to say,” Brenna muttered. “Colt doesn’t have a shitty past. Pop’s awesome.”
Beth Ann gave another ladylike snort. “Are you kidding me? His past is weirder than you’ll ever know.”
“Oh?” Miranda perked up. “How so?”
But Beth Ann only shook her head. “It’s Colt’s story and he wouldn’t want me telling it.”
Miranda looked curious, but only shrugged. “The past doesn’t determine everything. Heck, look at my past. I wanted to get out of this town because everyone talked to my chest and called me Boobs of Bluebonnet. And so I left, and then I came right back because I missed it anyhow. It wasn’t that I missed being called Boobs. It was that I’d lose more than I gained by leaving. Like friends and family and Dane . . .” She had a pleased look on her face at the latter. “No one’s called me Boobs since I got engaged. Having a big, muscular fiancé puts a new perspective on things for most people.”
“Mine’s worse than being called ‘Boobs’,” Brenna said glumly. “But I’ll think about it.”
“What do you have to lose?” Miranda asked.
Everything, Brenna wanted to reply, but she simply shrugged. Because she’d seen it happen too many times in the past. There were things people could get past. And there were things that some people just couldn’t get past no matter how much they claimed differently.
And she suspected she knew how things would fall if she exposed her past to Grant.
But it was either that, or continue as they were. In stasis. Grant confessing his love for her, and her demanding things be completely free and without attachments. How long would that last?
Not long enough. Glum at the thought, Brenna stared longingly at her empty margarita glass.
“None of that sad face now,” Beth Ann told her with a pat on her hand. “So when are you going to come by and let me play with your hair?”
“Hmm?”
“Oh, I suggested to Elise that if she stays in town for a while, we try a joint venture. Pin-up photography. We agreed that since you have the Bettie Page bangs, you’d rock a serious retro look. We want you to be our test subject.” She grinned and reached for another chip. “Basically we’ll do your hair and makeup and dress you up in some glam clothing and take sexy pictures of you. Sound like fun?”
“What did you have in mind?”
Beth Ann popped the chip into her mouth, chewed, and then turned to play with Brenna’s bangs. “We could curl these into a roll, or give you a retro upsweep. We’ll experiment a bit.”
Brenna shrugged again. “Sounds like fun. Can I wear it home? Surprise Grant?”
“Just don’t have sex in the clothing,” Beth Ann said. “Or you’re paying the dry-cleaning bill.”
“Great, now I’m picturing Brenna and Grant having sex, and I really didn’t want to,” Miranda lamented. “Now I need a margarita.”
“So why all the business plans?” Brenna asked, sliding her bowl of salsa closer and digging into the chips. “I thought you and Colt were heading off to Alaska for a few weeks as soon as Rome’s trained.”
“We’re leaving in two weeks,” Beth Ann said breathlessly, practically bouncing in her seat. “I’m so excited to have a month of alone time with him. Between our schedules, it seems like one of us is always coming or going. It’ll be nice to have a few days of nothing but lounging in bed.”
Miranda gave her an odd look. “Clearly you have never been camping with one of these boys. I have, and I can assure you that lounging in bed is the last thing that Colt will have on his mind. He’ll have you up at the butt-crack of dawn to go fishing or build a fire or something.”
“I can be pretty convincing,” Beth Ann said cheerfully, undeterred at the thought.
“What about your clients?” Brenna asked. “Can you leave without getting them all pissed off at you?”
“I’m stacking them and getting cuts in ahead of time,” she told Brenna. “So I’m super busy this week and next week, but it’ll be worth it.” Beth Ann gave Brenna an amused look. “Since when did wild and careless Brenna start caring about business responsibilities?”
“Since I started sleeping with Grant,” Brenna told her wryly. “Trust me, I’m as disturbed by it as you are. It’s a good thing the man eats a fierce pu**y, or he wouldn’t be worth it.”
Both Miranda and Beth Ann groaned as if in pain. Miranda pretended to scrub her eyes with her hands. “And there’s yet another visual I’ll never be able to shake. Thanks for that.”
Brenna giggled. “You’re so welcome.”
• • •
“You sure you can’t stay for longer?” Grant pushed his mother’s designer carry-on into the trunk of his Audi. “I’m sure there’s room at the Peppermint House if you wanted to stay another week or two. And it’s good to have family around.”
“You’re sweet, Grant,” Justine said, patting his cheek as only a mother could do to her grown son. “But Reggie wants to meet some friends for deep-sea fishing, and then we’re heading to Florida to shop for beach houses.”