“I’m signing us up,” he grumbled. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
“I know what you’re doing,” she whispered back. “It was a rhetorical question.”
Grant sat the pen down and reached for his wallet. “If you already knew the answer, why’d you ask?”
He pulled out enough cash to cover the registration fee before returning his wallet to his back pocket.
The woman at the table smiled up at him. “Thank you so much for your donation, sir. You know, I was just about to close the registration, so you got here just in time.” She turned to Brynnon. “You’re the last couple to sign up.”
Brynnon forced a smile in return and looked back at Grant. With a tug to his jacket sleeve, she moved them out of earshot from the kind woman.
“I meant,whyare you doing this?”
Grant shrugged one of his large shoulders. “You wanted to compete, right?”
Brynnon blinked. “Well, yes, but—”
Before she could finish, he’d grabbed her hand and was pulling her along with him once more. With no other choice but to follow—unless she wanted to cause a scene, which she didn’t—Brynnon walked twice as fast to keep up with his long stride.
They weaved their way through the other couples waiting for the music to start, finally stopping in an open area at the other end of the dance floor, near the stage. Letting go of her hand, Grant turned to face her.
“Put your left hand on my right shoulder.”
Feeling as though her eyes were going to bug out of her head, Brynnon looked up at him as if he were nuts.
“You’re kidding, right?”
He didn’t respond. Instead, the frustratingly handsome man simply raised that damn brow of his.
Doing her best to keep her voice down, she said, “Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but this is not the time or place to try and make some sort of point.”
Grant suddenly looked grumpier than usual. “I’m not trying to prove a point.”
Could’ve fooled me.“Is this because Lucas asked me to dance with him?” She looked at him for another second, and then gasped. “Holy crap.” Brynnon looked around to make sure no one was listening before whispering, “Are you jealous?”
Grant swallowed but remained quiet.
“Well, if this is some sort of pissing match, you can stop. I told you what that man put me through. I was only talking to him and introducing him because tonight is about the kids and causing a scene with my ex wouldn’t exactly go over well with the donors. And yes, Lucas is apparently one of those donors, but there is no way in hell I’d even think about getting back together with him. So, you’ve won.” When he still didn’t respond, she gave him a pointed look. “Seriously, Grant. The music’s about to start and people are looking at us.”
Sighing loudly, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her to him. Brynnon let out a tiny squeal as their bodies nearly became flush with one another’s.
Without a word, Grant reached over with his left hand and lifted hers, resting it just below his right shoulder. Conflict mixed with determination in his eyes, making her wonder if maybe this was about something more than simply jealousy.
A thought hit, making her feel like an ungrateful bitch.
The orchestra began playing the song’s intro, those first few notes creating a sudden sense of urgency. Brynnon shook her head as she started to ramble.
“If you’re doing this because my partner backed out at the last minute and you feel sorry for me, don’t. Seriously, Grant. It’s a sweet thought and a kind gesture, but I don’t want you to—”
“What?” He raised a brow. “Embarrass myself?”
She winced. “I-I didn’t mean it like that. I promise, I didn’t. It’s just that, this is supposed to be a waltz, and when we talked before about dancing, you—”
“Brynnon!” he spoke her name sternly, cutting her off.
She blinked and stared back up at him.
“Do you want to dance?” Grant emphasized each word as he spoke.
