general direction.
“I only drug people when I really have to.” Brock laughed over the rim of his coffee mug. “Normally, I’m more of a live and let live type of guy.”
I couldn’t help but admire his smile. He didn’t look scary and didn’t act like a silent, unpredictable sociopath. Like my husband . It made hating Brock a challenging task.
I snorted, desperate to gain some control of the situation. Even if it meant being bitchy to him for no reason. “Thanks for sharing, Buddha.”
“Actually…” He looked around him to make sure no one was listening and leaned forward as he dropped his voice. “I wanted to check on you. You seemed upset at the wedding.”
I looked away. He doesn’t care .
He eyed me intently, ignoring my grouchiness. “Talk to me. I’m not one of the bad guys.”
“Pretty sure you’re not one of the good ones either.”
He paused, actually considering my statement. “I’m not here because Troy sent me to sniff around, if that’s what you think. I’m just…worried. Talk to me, Sparrow. How’s married life treating you?”
“Badly,” I deadpanned, “and since I heard the secret to a happy marriage is to want to be married to the person you’re with, guess I’m screwed.”
I was so brutally honest it almost felt reckless. Almost. I wasn’t afraid of him telling my new husband how I’d badmouthed our marriage. Brock knew I was forced into this bond. I’d read that between the lines when he spoke to his son at church the other day. But even if he did decide to rat me out to Brennan, it’s not like what I shared with him would be news to my husband.
“It gets better,” Brock said softly, rubbing the back of his neck and looking adorable.
The air thickened.
So did my voice. “Does it?” I cleared my throat.
“That’s the rumor, anyway.” He downed the rest of his coffee like a shot and banged his mug down on the kitchen island. Getting to his feet, he grabbed his jacket, draped on the back on the chair, and shot me a charming smile, flashing those pearly-white teeth and making my knees weak.
“You’d better check on your bath before it overflows.” He nodded in the direction of the distant sound of streaming water.
I nodded wordlessly and turned, walking back toward the bathroom. I was glad to put some distance between us. Being attracted to him was not something I was proud of, and I knew it’d only bring more complications to my already messy love life.
“Sparrow…” His voice halted me mid-step. “What do you do all day?”
I didn’t turn around. Was afraid he’d read the confusion on my face.
“Sit around here,” I answered, my voice brittle with the burden of the truth. “Mostly just trying to remember who I am, figuring out what to do next.”
“Your husband is a very capable man, you know.”
I gripped the belt of my robe, my teeth digging hard into my lower lip. “So people keep telling me.”
I turned around now, and our eyes locked. There was some space between us, but not much. Not enough for me to ignore the heat pouring from his body.
“What I mean is…” He licked his lips before taking another step in my direction. “Troy owns a restaurant just off Tremont Street. Rouge Bis. I manage it for him. Maybe you’d like to help out there.”
I almost clapped a hand over my mouth in disbelief. Rouge Bis was widely considered the most romantic place in Boston, so it was comical to find out that it was owned by the least romantic man in New England.
“Wait, how do you know that I’m a cook?” I frowned.
“Maria mentioned you keep making a mess in her kitchen. Plus, I noticed the fridge’s full of stuff that’s not just condiments. That’s a first in the Brennan household. Also, there’s the newspaper.” He nodded toward the island where he’d sipped coffee. “You highlighted a job as a cafeteria cook in the local schools. So, yeah, you’re not really keeping a low profile about it. Look, I’m sure you can
“I only drug people when I really have to.” Brock laughed over the rim of his coffee mug. “Normally, I’m more of a live and let live type of guy.”
I couldn’t help but admire his smile. He didn’t look scary and didn’t act like a silent, unpredictable sociopath. Like my husband . It made hating Brock a challenging task.
I snorted, desperate to gain some control of the situation. Even if it meant being bitchy to him for no reason. “Thanks for sharing, Buddha.”
“Actually…” He looked around him to make sure no one was listening and leaned forward as he dropped his voice. “I wanted to check on you. You seemed upset at the wedding.”
I looked away. He doesn’t care .
He eyed me intently, ignoring my grouchiness. “Talk to me. I’m not one of the bad guys.”
“Pretty sure you’re not one of the good ones either.”
He paused, actually considering my statement. “I’m not here because Troy sent me to sniff around, if that’s what you think. I’m just…worried. Talk to me, Sparrow. How’s married life treating you?”
“Badly,” I deadpanned, “and since I heard the secret to a happy marriage is to want to be married to the person you’re with, guess I’m screwed.”
I was so brutally honest it almost felt reckless. Almost. I wasn’t afraid of him telling my new husband how I’d badmouthed our marriage. Brock knew I was forced into this bond. I’d read that between the lines when he spoke to his son at church the other day. But even if he did decide to rat me out to Brennan, it’s not like what I shared with him would be news to my husband.
“It gets better,” Brock said softly, rubbing the back of his neck and looking adorable.
The air thickened.
So did my voice. “Does it?” I cleared my throat.
“That’s the rumor, anyway.” He downed the rest of his coffee like a shot and banged his mug down on the kitchen island. Getting to his feet, he grabbed his jacket, draped on the back on the chair, and shot me a charming smile, flashing those pearly-white teeth and making my knees weak.
“You’d better check on your bath before it overflows.” He nodded in the direction of the distant sound of streaming water.
I nodded wordlessly and turned, walking back toward the bathroom. I was glad to put some distance between us. Being attracted to him was not something I was proud of, and I knew it’d only bring more complications to my already messy love life.
“Sparrow…” His voice halted me mid-step. “What do you do all day?”
I didn’t turn around. Was afraid he’d read the confusion on my face.
“Sit around here,” I answered, my voice brittle with the burden of the truth. “Mostly just trying to remember who I am, figuring out what to do next.”
“Your husband is a very capable man, you know.”
I gripped the belt of my robe, my teeth digging hard into my lower lip. “So people keep telling me.”
I turned around now, and our eyes locked. There was some space between us, but not much. Not enough for me to ignore the heat pouring from his body.
“What I mean is…” He licked his lips before taking another step in my direction. “Troy owns a restaurant just off Tremont Street. Rouge Bis. I manage it for him. Maybe you’d like to help out there.”
I almost clapped a hand over my mouth in disbelief. Rouge Bis was widely considered the most romantic place in Boston, so it was comical to find out that it was owned by the least romantic man in New England.
“Wait, how do you know that I’m a cook?” I frowned.
“Maria mentioned you keep making a mess in her kitchen. Plus, I noticed the fridge’s full of stuff that’s not just condiments. That’s a first in the Brennan household. Also, there’s the newspaper.” He nodded toward the island where he’d sipped coffee. “You highlighted a job as a cafeteria cook in the local schools. So, yeah, you’re not really keeping a low profile about it. Look, I’m sure you can
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