Somehow he got the idea it was more than just one bad lake adventure.
“What else happened on the water?”
She waved her hand. “Ancient history.”
“Brenna.”
“Mitchell and I went to Barbados for our honeymoon. We booked this catamaran cruise. It . . . didn’t go well. I got so sick. Mitchell was pissed off that we wasted money and he didn’t have fun.”
Finn rolled his eyes. “Because it’s always all about him. Didn’t he care that you didn’t feel well?”
“Not really. He walked me up to the room, I passed out on the bed and he went down to the bar. He ended up having dinner in the restaurant that night, and didn’t even come up to check on me.”
“What a dick.”
“Yes. I should have seen the writing on the wall then, but I was too sick to notice.”
“I’m glad you didn’t waste too long on him. See? You’re smart.”
She laughed. “Not smart enough. I still married him.”
The worst of the storm had passed just as Finn got on the expressway, but there was a lot of water on the road so he stayed in the right lane since they were towing a boat. He glanced quickly at Brenna. “Don’t you think it’s time you let it go?”
She frowned. “Let what go?”
“Mitchell. So you married him and he turned out to be a jackass. That wasn’t your fault, Brenna. Quit beating yourself up over it. Lots of people end up with bad marriages. You got out of yours quickly, but you haven’t really moved on yet.”
“Sure I have.”
“Have you? It’s like every decision you make revolves around what happened in your marriage. It’s as if it defines you.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“Really? This whole engagement thing came about because of Mitchell and Allison. How you didn’t want to be seen as single, which shouldn’t have mattered because you’re smart and successful and gorgeous as fuck. You should have been rubbing that in their faces instead of dragging me along as some kind of trophy fiancé.”
She went dead silent and he knew he shouldn’t have said it, but fuck it, he had and it was the truth. She was an amazing woman who should be proud to stand on her own.
When he pulled up in front of the house, he figured Brenna would bail for the front door as soon as the truck stopped. He grasped her hand before she could make a run for it. “Brenna, look. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. You know I would never want to hurt you. I care about you. But I also want you to be free.”
“Free of what? Of you?”
He frowned. “No, not of me. Of the pain you keep holding on to from the past. Of Mitchell and whatever hold Allison seems to have on you. You deserve better. But you and I seem to keep getting into these arguments that don’t make any sense, and I think it’s because you’re afraid to feel too deeply.”
She blinked. “Oh, now you’re going to explain to me how I feel.”
Shit. He was screwing this up. “No, that’s not what I meant at all.”
“I’m tired, Finn, and I’ve got some things to do. Let’s regroup and talk about this later, okay?”
“Yeah. Sure. I’ll take care of cleaning the boat and storing it.”
“Okay, thanks.”
She slipped out of the truck and he went around to her side to help her with the bags. He walked with her up the steps.
“Brenna.”
She turned, but didn’t look at him. “Yes.”
“Thank you for today. I really did have a great time.”
She nodded and went inside.
He walked down the steps and climbed back into the truck, put it in gear and drove toward the garage.
Way to fuck up a perfect day, Finn.
But he wouldn’t take back what he’d said, because it was the truth.
Dammit, he was in love with Brenna. And if that meant digging at her layers to get to the truth of how she felt, he’d keep digging. Even if it pissed her off.
Because she was worth it.
CHAPTER
• • • • • •
twenty-eight
BRENNA RUBBED HER temples where the headache had taken up permanent residence the entire day. This meeting with her sisters wasn’t helping. It especially wasn’t helping that Erin, freshly back from her honeymoon, was tanned and in a gloriously happy mood, while Brenna was still smarting from her not-so-fun outing with Finn a few days ago.
She’d been avoiding him ever since, despite his efforts to get together with her for some one-on-one time. She’d begged off, claiming work or previous engagements with Honor or her mom, and even though she knew Finn wasn’t buying any of her excuses, she just wasn’t ready to deal with him.
“Oh, and the Belgrave/Monticelli wedding this weekend wants four additional cases of the merlot, plus three additional cases of champagne. Did you get that, Brenna?”
“Brenna? Did you hear what Honor said?” Erin asked.
Brenna snapped her head up. “I got it, though I’m getting tired of all these last-minute order changes. Why can’t people just leave it alone? Why is everyone pushing at me?”
Erin looked at Honor, then back at Brenna. “Somehow I don’t think we’re talking about wine orders anymore.”
“What’s wrong, Brenna?” Honor asked.
“It’s nothing.” She waved her hand, hoping they’d get back to business and away from her.
“It’s not nothing,” Honor said. “You’ve been out of sorts for days.”
Erin studied her. “You have? What happened?”
Knowing her sisters, Brenna knew she wasn’t going to get out of this without an explanation. “Finn and I sort of had a fight.”
“You did?” Honor looked shocked. “About what?”
“He accused me of living in the past, of using my relationship with Mitchell to inform all of my decision making.”
The room went quiet, and Erin and Honor started shuffling paperwork.
She gaped at her sisters. “What? You two think the same thing?”
Erin looked at her. “You’re the one who came up with the fake fiancé because you couldn’t stand the thought of facing Mitchell and Allison on your own.”
“That’s different. That was more Allison than anything. You know how she is.”