“And?”
She could feel Sydney’s eyes on her as she stopped in front of the house, where cars were already lined almost completely around the semicircular driveway.
They were consenting adults who happened to be attracted to one another. They weren’t doing anything wrong by acknowledging that. Sydney had already admitted as much, and now, it was Reese’s turn.
Her focus dropped down to Sydney’s lips, full and pursed ever so gently as she waited for an answer. She wasn’t pushing, more so giving Reese the space to acknowledge whatever she was feeling in her own time.
It was the little rush of heat that slithered through her coupled with the strangest sense of feeling grounded and safe that made her lean in close, lips inches away from Sydney’s when she said, “I was really hoping I could kiss you again.”
So they had things to talk about. And Reese wasn’t sure where all of this could lead.
But it feltgood,in a way that nothing had in a long time, and it was that thought that pulled her closer, Sydney’s breath ghosting across her lips, Sydney’s own lips soft and close and begging to be covered.
The knock on the window shocked them both apart, and Reese took a long, steadying breath before she rolled down her window.
“Ma’am, I’ll be happy to park your car,” the valet said, single-minded in his job, oblivious to the way Reese clenched her fists to stop herself from strangling him. “We’d like to keep the flow of traffic moving as guests arrive.”
She felt the steadying hand that Sydney placed on her thigh at the same time she heard Sydney’s car door open.
“Don’t shoot the messenger,” Sydney whispered, a shiver running down Reese’s spine at their closeness.
With another calming exhale, Reese pasted on a smile and exited the car, the moment broken.
Reese watched in awe as Sydney effortlessly worked the crowd. Hands were shaken. Air kisses were given. Laughter happened at the perfect moments, Sydney’s eyes shining as she shot Reese a coy smile.
And Reese, like everyone else, was lapping it up.
This woman, who held any crowd in the palm of her hand, had very recently had those same hands on Reese’s thigh, fingertips ghosting against the hem of her dress before they’d been interrupted.
It was heady, and Reese basked in her attraction as she observed Sydney, wondering where this thing between them would lead.
She was so lost in her own thoughts and fantasies that she didn’t notice Brynn until she was at Reese’s side. “It’s so good to see you, Reese.”
Brynn placed a tentative hand on Reese’s forearm, and it wasn’t without significant effort that she pulled her focus away from where Sydney was still holding court, regaling a small group of her father’s business associates with a story about last year’s French Open.
“You too,” Reese said when she remembered her manners, stepping a few feet away from Sydney’s admirers to have a private conversation with Brynn. This woman was the guest of honor, to be fair. She’d never give Grant the same respect, but Brynn had been nothing but sweet since they’d met, almost like a shy puppy that just wanted Reese’s approval. And even if that feltweird, she didn’t want to make Brynn feel like it was. It wasn’t her future sister-in-law’s fault that she had terrible taste in men, whether she knew it or not.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” Reese asked, finally giving Brynn her full attention. “Great party, by the way.”
Brynn blushed. “Thanks. Our parents planned it, so I’m experiencing it all for the first time, too.”
Like the engagement party, waiters roamed through the crowd dressed in all black, carrying trays of various brunch-related foodswith an upscale twist. Smoked salmon crostinis with crème fraîche, smoked trout croquettes, figs with bacon and chile, and mini, messy cinnamon rolls with icing dripping down the edges that smelled divine.
Reese’s brow lifted upward as she saw that one pass for the first time, her fingers already feeling sticky.
Brynn tracked Reese’s gaze. “My dad insisted on those. He’s also, unsurprisingly, responsible for the brunch theme.”
Reese had wondered from where the ‘Love You a Brunch’ theme had materialized, given it wasn’t her mom’s style. She’d assumed it had been Margie’s dream child, but when she really thought about it, Stan made a lot more sense.
“He always seems to be a man with a plan,” Reese said before wondering, as she looked out at the bustling, well-oiled party, “And what, pray tell, did my father contribute to today’s festivities?”
It wasn’t fair, she realized, to put Brynn in this position. Her shoulders rounded inward, and her gaze flicked to the gold accent balloons arranged expertly to create an arch into the backyard, which was immaculately decorated in shades of rose gold.
“I think he offered up your family’s home,” Brynn answered honestly, a small quaver in her voice. This was surprising, considering this wasn’t a party for Reese, and therefore, there was nothing for her to be disappointed about except that her father continued to be exactly the person she’d started accepting him as.
“Couldn’t even spring to rent a Chili’s?” Reese said more sardonically than she should have.
“Oh my god.” Brynn giggled. “Nowmydad would have loved that. He always said that you can have all the money in the world, but the things you thought were fancy as a kid will never truly change.”
