The man attempted to school his expression, but Brady had known him a long damn time. That news was important to Donovan, and it was taking tremendous effort for him to remain sitting there when he obviously preferred to be somewhere else.
Figuring he could do his friend a favor, Brady waved the waitress over.
“Could we get the check?”
She smiled and nodded before grabbing their plates and heading to the kitchen.
“Is it serious, D?” Brady asked, losing all pretense of teasing.
Donovan looked up at him. “It was certainly headin’ that direction, yeah.”
“Tate’s a good guy,” Brady told him, purposely not referring to him as a kid, which he’d always done before. “I’m sure he can explain.”
“Oh, he will,” Donovan said, tossing back the last swallow of his coffee like it was a shot of whiskey. “I’ll make damn sure of it.”
Brady believed him.
***
After Reilly texted Brady that Tate wasat the store, she couldn’t take her eyes off the door.
She wasn’t sure whether she was eager to find out if Brady told her brother about… well, she figured he couldn’t tell him much because she wasn’t sure she would classify what happened last night as the beginning of a relationship. Yeah, she wanted to, but that didn’t mean Brady was on the same page.
Regardless, she was curious to find out if Brady owned up to it, but she was a little more excited to see if Donovan would confront Tate. She was hoping for both but for entirely different reasons. Reilly couldn’t forget the look on Donovan’s face when he came into the store asking where Tate was. He’d been a man on a mission, the complete opposite of Tate, who was attempting to play it cool.
“Oh, shit,” she blurted when she saw Donovan and Brady walking in front of the window, heading for the door. “They’re back.”
Her brother yanked the door open and stormed inside. He skimmed the room, but his eyes moved right past her, which was a huge relief. Maybe it was a good thing something happened between him and Tate. That meant she wouldn’t have to endure Donovan’s protective big brother spiel.
Before she could ask how they were, Donovan said, “Y’all should go. Enjoy the day. I’ll lock up in a bit.”
Go? Seriously?
“Donovan—”
“Come on,” Brady said, crooking his finger at her while gesturing toward the door with his other hand. “He’ll keep it open all day, won’t you, D?”
“Yep.”
Oh, yeah. Sure. He sounded like he was going to handle the store. If Reilly were to guess, she would say Donovan hadn’t heard a single word Brady said.
Then again, to be fair, she didn’t really care. It was Christmas Eve, and it was Sunday. They wouldn’t see much traffic. No one had come in yet, and the morning was mostly over. Plus, if anyone wanted to give her a choice between spending the day with Brady or working the register, she would pick Brady every single time.
Starting now.
While Tate and Donovan faced off across the room, Reilly ducked behind the register and grabbed Brady’s car keys.
As she walked toward Brady, she looked at Tate. “You good?”
He barely spared her a glance long enough to nod before his attention shifted back to Donovan.
“Call me later,” Reilly told him.
Another nod, but this time, he didn’t even look at her.
Reilly took that as her cue and hurried out the door with Brady leading the way. She giggled when he took her hand and darted around the side of the building. As soon as they turned the corner, Brady pulled her up short, pressing her against the rough wood siding.
She gasped in surprise as she stared up at him. “What’s wrong?”
