“Granted. But I didn’t say Matt was a safe choice, Bryn.Youdid.” I pause, then figure screw it, might as well go for broke. “Personally, I don’t see what’s safe about marrying a man who’s already told you he’s not going to give you what you’ve always wanted.”
I regret the words immediately, because it’s obvious I’ve ruined our dinner. Bryn isn’t the sort to cry or carry on when she’s upset, though. She’s much more likely to get pissed.
Her gaze cuts into me. “It’s my choice.”
I lift my hands. “Obviously. Proceed. You’re not the only one who likes white bread sandwiches. I’ve heard they’re comfort food for some folks.”
Dammit. Did I say that out loud?
“Are you calling Matt—”
“I’ve gotta go to the bathroom,” I say, practically leaping out of my chair and throwing my napkin at my plate. “You know me and my trick bladder.”
I don’t even know what that means, but Bryn just scowls. I take it as permission to leave, so I skedaddle past the bar to the bathrooms.
Once inside, I use the facilities since I’m there, then stare at myself in the mirror. “You done fucked up, Holly,” I say. “You have to apologize.”
I don’t want to. I’d much rather convince my sister to say no to Matt. But she’s right. It’s her choice to make.
“More like her mistake to make,” I mutter.
A polished blond woman emerges from one of the stalls. I don’t recognize her, not even a little, so maybe the tourists have finally caught the scent of Salt and Bone. Dammit. I figured we had at least another couple of months before that happened. She sees me and then frowns, glancing around to find whatever mysterious person I might have been talking to.
“It’s okay,” I say. “I was giving myself a little pep talk.”
Her expression doesn’t ease. Oh, so she’s one of those people who don’t talk to themselves.
“My sister’s about to make a really big mistake, is all,” I say. “Her soon-to-be fiancé is a white bread sandwich, and…”
The woman’s eyes widen just as she was about to put her hands under the faucet. She gives it a longing look but then scuttles out of the bathroom without washing her hands.
A chuckle escapes me. “Some people are too literal.”
I’m feeling a little better, which probably says a lot about me as a person, when I leave the bathroom. It lasts for about as long as it takes for me to noticehim.
Cole Garrison.
My nemesis.
The man whom I’ve wanted, to my great annoyance, since high school.
He’s sitting at the bar alone, which is a shocker. He’s a single parent who owns and runs a brewery. When he’s not working or doing whatever it is parents do, he’s always with a different woman. He’s been notorious for it ever since his wife died six years ago.
I feel a little prickle, either annoyance or the other reaction I always have to him. The one that makes me want to run home and pull out my vibrator.
He’s handsome, is all.
He’s got this trim beard that frames a mouth that’s perpetually in some wattage of smirk. Just like my grandmother has a whole language in disapproving looks, Cole Garrison has a whole language of smirks. And he has these dark, broody eyes, framed with long lashes that are much too pretty for such a large, built man.
Damn him.
His gaze catches mine, and he sighs. I know this because I’m close enough to hear it. Somehow, without meaning to, I’ve drifted closer to him, as if magically compelled.
I guess I dread continuing my conversation with Bryn even more than I do talking to a man with whom I can only exchange barbs.
“Stalking me?” I ask, lifting an eyebrow.
“If I’d known you’d be here, I would have stayed away,” he says, but it’s with a smirk that says he’s notnotenjoying himself.
