Beth Ann just snorted and pulled out her broom, beginning to sweep. Elise just stared at her with wide eyes. “You gave that man your entire paycheck?”
“Not the entire thing,” Brenna amended. “I filled up my gas tank first. And bought drinks for the house!” She grinned.
But Elise wasn’t smiling back at her. She looked troubled.
Time to circle the conversation once more. “So I was thinking about getting more tattoos,” Brenna said blithely. “I haven’t been able to take my eyes off those big guns of Rome’s. Why do you think he’s so covered? Prison tats? Needle fetish?”
Elise blushed and ducked her head again. “I don’t know.”
“Prison tats?” Beth Ann sounded horrified. “Does he look like a prisoner?”
“Not at all,” Elise protested.
Distraction taken care of, Brenna thought smugly.
EIGHT
Grant’s parents insisted on having another big family dinner that evening. The local Mexican food place, Maya Loco, was a favorite growing up, and was still the only restaurant in Bluebonnet that served alcohol, so it was the place of choice. Brenna was her usual effervescent and irreverent self, chatting happily with Elise and his parents about one of their first classes and how Miranda had insinuated herself into Dane’s group, unbeknownst to Dane until it was too late. Her voice was animated, and she squeezed Grant’s knee while they sat outside the restaurant on benches, waiting to be seated.
Watching her, you would think that she’d been his girlfriend for years. She was so easy with him, her posture relaxed and happy, and she had charmed his parents despite her offbeat airs. She was dressed in a cute black dress, the fabric dotted with cherries, and a matching red cardigan tossed over it. He was pretty sure he’d seen Beth Ann in the same ensemble. But while the cool Southern blonde had looked merely pretty and put together in it, there was something about Brenna that made the outfit perfect for her vivacious personality. Her bangs were bright purple and curled into the Bettie Page hairstyle she loved, and with the dress and hair, she looked like a wickedly sexy, sensual rockabilly sort. Totally wrong for him. But then she’d put her hand in the crook of his arm and lean in, and it felt . . . perfect.
Even if it was a lie.
His thoughts kept him occupied even when they were seated in the restaurant. As soon as they were, the waiter rushed off again. He stood. “I’ll get drinks from the bar. The usual for everyone?” When his parents nodded, he looked to Brenna. “What would you like?”
“Get me something fruity with an umbrella,” she told him, grinning. “I feel fancy tonight.”
“I’ll join you, Grant,” Elise said quickly, and got up as well.
They made their way through the crowd—Maya Loco was always packed to the gills—and headed to the counter. He flagged down the bartender to let him know they needed to be served, but the man was at the far end of the bar.
“Please don’t take this the wrong way,” Elise said under her breath. “But I have some concerns about Brenna.”
Grant frowned and glanced over at his sister. “Oh? Why is that?”
She smiled at him. “Please keep smiling, Grant. They’re looking over here and I don’t want them to know we’re talking about Brenna.”
He forced a smile to his face, though it felt false. His stomach had clenched up hard at Elise’s words. “What’s going on with Brenna?”
His sister tilted her head and then said, after a long pause, “Are you sure she’s not with you for your money?”
He couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m pretty sure she’s not. Why do you ask?”
Elise dragged a finger on the scarred wooden bar, digging a fingernail into an old scratch. “She just seems . . . careless with her finances. I worry that she latched onto you because you’re grieving and you’re wealthy. That’s all.”
Grant stared at Elise. He moved closer to his sister, turning his shoulders so the others couldn’t see their discussion. “Brenna’s careless with everything. What did she do to make you worry?”
Elise chewed on her lip, thinking. “I know you like her a lot, Grant, and I’m so happy that you’re dating again . . .”
“But?”
“But she gave away her entire paycheck to a street musician. And her friends say she never has any money on her, no matter when she’s paid.” Her brows knit together. “Is it possible she has a drug habit?”
“I don’t think she does.” But he wondered. Brenna was so open with almost every aspect of her life. It was possible that she was hiding things simply because of omission. He’d had no idea that she lived in such an empty cabin. He’d had no idea that all the items on her desk belonged to other people. She drove an old beat-up car and seemed enthusiastic about her job, but did he truly know her? He made a mental note to ask Dane and Colt more about her when he got back to the lodge. The others had known her since their days in Alaska. Grant hadn’t.
Was it possible that he was missing a big piece of the puzzle?
“I’m pretty sure that she’s not using me for my money, Elise.” Grant patted his sister on the shoulder to reassure her. It was almost comical. He would have loved it if Brenna were using him for his money, because that meant she was interested in something long-term. If anything, Brenna was the opposite of a gold-digger. She didn’t want anything from him. But he couldn’t tell Elise that. “I’ll be careful. If it’ll make you feel better to know it, I’ve never bought her anything.”
Elise relaxed a little. “I’m glad to hear that. I just don’t want someone taking advantage of you while you’re still vulnerable.”
Vulnerable? It was on the tip of his tongue to ask what she meant by the puzzling comment, and then he realized she was talking about his widowhood. Except for the first time in five years, he felt like a regular guy, not someone who’d been ripped in half and left bleeding. For the first time, he could safely say he’d truly moved on from Heather. He still loved her and always would, but it was time to move forward, and he was more than ready.
“I’m doing just fine, I promise.”
A hint of a dimple shone in Elise’s face. “You do seem happier than I’ve seen you in a long time. Is it because of Brenna?”
“She infuriates the hell out of me,” he admitted. “Half the time I want to strangle her for her hare-brained ideas. And she seems to thrive on antagonism.”