The Summer Deal (Wildstone #5)(39)

BRYNN WAS SITTING in her moms’ kitchen, slowly being smothered to death. It was her own fault, of course. She’d told them she was coming back because the house hadn’t worked out, which had sent them into private-investigator mode.

“Did someone hurt you?”

“Was someone mean to you?”

“Do we need to call the police?”

“No!” Brynn said. “Look, I know I told you that I thought Kinsey and I could make peace and become friends. And I thought the same thing of Eli.”

“But . . . ?” Olive asked.

“But . . . now I’m not so sure on either.”

“Is it because you like Eli?” Raina asked.

Just when she thought she might be smarter than them . . . “I don’t know.” She paused. “Maybe. A little.”

“And that’s bad?” Raina asked.

“I’m not sure I’m ready to feel . . . things again. I need to clear my head.”

Olive didn’t want to let it go. “But—”

She held up her hands to ward them off. “Look, I’m going to be fine, no one’s done anything to me. I just don’t want to discuss it right now, okay?”

So they switched tactics.

“Try this, baby.” Olive handed her a mug.

“Wait,” Raina protested. “I’m making her a special tea blend.”

“Trust me. She’ll want mine,” Olive said.

Brynn sipped from the mug. It was a hot toddy with a whole bunch more alcohol than hot water.

“Don’t tell your mom,” Olive whispered.

Twenty minutes later, as she was sitting on the couch, with Catherine the Great claiming her lap, Raina handed her a napkin with two small cookies in it.

Never one to turn down cookies, Brynn still hesitated. “They’re not . . . special cookies, are they?”

“Just a little bit special. For your anxiety, baby. Don’t tell your mom.”

So that was how Brynn ended up a little toasted and also a little high. But the joke was on her moms, because now she was too sleepy to spill her guts and admit she’d actually been delusional enough to think she’d become a part of the Kinsey, Max, and Eli gang, that she meant something to them, that she belonged. That she was embarrassed it wasn’t like any of that. She was nothing more than a paying renter, filling a spot.

But more than any of that—much, much more—she’d come home because Kinsey didn’t need the complication of Brynn being there upsetting her.

The doorbell startled Brynn awake and Cat into hissing. She figured her moms would get it, but oddly, they’d made themselves scarce. So she got up and looked out the peephole, and suddenly she knew where her moms were.

Hiding out at the top of the stairs, straining to eavesdrop.

Because Eli stood on the porch, hands braced on either side of the doorjamb, head down, studying his shoes. When she’d swallowed her heart out of her throat and back into her chest, she opened the door.

He lifted his head. He’d lost the suit jacket, loosened his tie, and unbuttoned the top two buttons on his shirt. The sleeves were shoved up his forearms, his hair was mussed, and the dark lenses on his sunglasses were a nice finishing touch to the whole Frustrated Male look he had going on.

She lifted her chin. “If you’re here to tell me I need to apologize to Kinsey, don’t worry. I figure me being gone was apology enough.”

He tugged off the sunglasses and shoved his fingers through his hair, solving the mystery of the tousled look. “How about I apologize to you,” he said.

She stared at him. “Go on.”

“I’m sorry.” He drew a deep breath. “I’m sorry one of my roommates is a compilation of every cliché of a surfer there ever was. I’m sorry the other roommate’s always on edge and irritable and . . . well, downright mean as a snake. And I’m sorry if not knowing about Kinsey’s condition made you feel like you weren’t a genuine part of the household.”

She sucked in some air. “How did you know?”

“Because you’re kind and caring, and you attach easily, even when you don’t want to. I can imagine how you felt when you saw inside Kinsey’s lunch box.”

“Yeah? How did I feel?”

“Sick, probably, with worry and concern, like the rest of us are. She’s dealing with a lot, always has been, but this isn’t about her. It’s about you, and no one meant to make you feel left out.”

She gave him a long look.

“Okay, neither me nor Max meant for that. Kinsey is . . . well, Kinsey. Please come back, Brynn. Give us another chance.”

Hating that she was tempted, she started to shake her head.

“Wait, before you say no, maybe just think about it?”

Like she’d be able to do anything else.

Taking her hand in his, he squeezed it gently and lifted it to his mouth, kissing her palm.

A skitter of awareness went through her.

“Maybe you’ll think about that too,” he said quietly.

She did nothing but, all night long.





Chapter 13


From fourteen-year-old Brynn’s summer camp journal: Dear Moms,

OMG, it’s asparagus this year. And whenever a girl eats any, the boys yell, “Don’t eat the stinky tinkle sticks!”