“Name one person,” Brady insisted.
“Tate.”
Tate barked a laugh. “I donotcall you that.”
“Well, you should,” she told him before turning her attention back to Brady. “That one.” She pointed at his face. “That’s the look. Thenon-looklook.”
He glanced at her. “What?”
“Stall tactic one-oh-one. Ask a question to buy time so you can come up with a lie.”
Brady’s smile started slow and ended with a wide grin and a shake of his head. “I’m not gonna lie to you.”
“But you’re not gonna tell me the truth, either. I saw it. As soon as Tate mentioned that Nico was the guy Stone punched for makin’ Chelsea cry, Stone instantly avoided lookin’ at you. Tate saw it. Right?”
“I saw nothin’,” he said.
“Liar.”
He chuckled.
“You know somethin’,” Reilly accused Brady. “About what happened back then.”
“Nothin’ happened.”
Reilly looked at Donovan and noticed him glancing back at them in the rearview mirror.
“Doyouknow?” she asked her brother.
“No.”
“Really?”
He met her gaze in the mirror. “Really.”
Darn it. She believed him.
Reilly glanced at Brady and lowered her voice. “This isn’t over.”
He laughed as he took her hand and linked their fingers. And just like that, she knew what she had to do.
Fifteen minutes later, after Donovan dropped them off at their house, Reilly filled a glass with water and faked a yawn. “I think I’m gonna turn in. See you in the mornin’.”
Brady looked up from where he was, glancing at the pile of mail he’d dropped on the counter yesterday. “You don’t wanna watch a movie?”
Oh, she definitely did. Especially because they’d made it their Sunday night tradition—that is, if a handful of Sundays could be considered a tradition. Because she closed the General Store early on Sundays, it gave them time to spend together. Alone. And for the past few weeks, they’d opted to camp out on the couch and watch a movie. Reilly preferred it because it always led to some spicy extracurricular activities.
“Nah. I think I’m gonna hit the hay.”
“Everything okay, Rye?”
Reilly stopped at the base of the stairs and turned toward him. She pretended to yawn again, stretching her arms over her head. The move lifted her sweater, instantly drawing Brady’s attention to her bare belly. The heat in his gaze was instant, just as she knew it would be.
“I could probably be persuaded,” she told him, lowering her arms.
He huffed a laugh as he walked into the living room. “Could you now?”
“Yep.”
