The Engagement Arrangement (Boots and Bouquets #2) - Jaci Burton Page 0,17
weirdness every day. No, I know better than to have a romance in my own backyard. I’ll restrict my dating life to well outside the grounds of the family property lines.”
“I can see your point there. But what if it could work out and you didn’t give it a chance? You could be missing out on something—on someone—amazing, Bren.”
“I just don’t think I can take the chance on failing again. I haven’t been lucky in love.”
Honor pulled in front of the house and parked. Finn was leaning against the porch rail. She smiled and reached out to squeeze Brenna’s hand. “Maybe your luck is about to change.”
They walked toward the stairs and Honor walked up. “Night, Finn.”
“G’night, Honor.”
Brenna stopped. “You didn’t have to wait for us.”
“I wanted to make sure you got home safely.”
“Well, thanks.” She started up the stairs, then stopped, compelled by . . . something she couldn’t name. She turned to him. “You do realize that you and I are not . . .”
He cocked his head to the side, waiting.
She walked down so she was level with him. “We’re not . . . actually dating or anything.”
“Noticed that.”
“Okay, I just wanted to make sure that was clear.”
“Are you asking me out, Brenna?”
She frowned. “Of course not.”
“You want me to ask you out.”
“No. I don’t know. Why? Were you going to ask me out?”
“I’d like to take you out. Would you go if I asked you?”
“No. I don’t know. Maybe.”
He laughed. “That’s a lot of answers to one simple question. Go on a date with me, Brenna.”
Her stomach was doing a wild dance and her pulse fluttered all over the place, which it absolutely did not do whenever a guy asked her out. She was always calm and rational when it came to dating. Why was she never calm or rational around Finn?
She blamed his amazing hair.
She blew out a frustrated breath. “Fine. We’ll go out.”
“It’s not an execution, Brenna. It’s a date. I promise we’ll have fun.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“Yes, I can.”
She’d withhold judgment until said date. Which probably wouldn’t happen anyway.
“Okay, we’ll see.”
“We will. And you’ll have fun.” He continued to smile as if he held the key to successful dating. Which he decidedly did not.
“I’m going inside now.”
“Good night, Brenna.”
She walked up the stairs, refusing to continue to gape at him. Because in his jeans and boots and all that . . . hair, she could look at him all night. And what good would that do her?
“Good night, Finn.”
She went inside and closed the door, headed up to her room and kicked off her shoes, then lay back on her bed.
She could not believe she’d just agreed to go on a date with Finn.
What was she thinking? Wasn’t it bad enough she’d concocted this ridiculous fake fiancé scheme?
Where is your head, Brenna?
She sat up and sighed.
She wasn’t thinking with her head lately.
And that was the problem.
CHAPTER
• • • • • •
six
FINN’S PLAN FOR taking Brenna on a date had to be put on hold, because an unexpected repair project got dropped into his lap that kept him working double time. He never minded that because he liked staying busy, but it did put a crimp in his plans with Brenna.
Though it seemed as if she’d been avoiding him the past several days. He could swear that any time she saw him coming, she’d pivot and walk in the opposite direction.
They did have three weddings last weekend, so he knew they were busy as well, and her ex-husband and his wife would be showing up at the vineyard tomorrow, so she likely had other things on her mind besides a date with him.
Which didn’t mean that Finn intended to forget that she’d agreed to it. He’d bided his time—for years, actually. Now he had a chance to show Brenna he was the right guy for her. He didn’t intend to waste the opportunity.
He’d repaired the broken barn door and repainted both of them, and added new hinges as well so they looked brand new. He fixed some of the fence where the horses grazed, and despite the August heat, it had felt good to be outside.
Now all he wanted was some of Louise’s lemonade, so he trekked toward the house and walked up the back steps, inched his head inside the door.
Louise wasn’t in the kitchen so he wiped his boots on the mat and went in, washed his hands in the sink, grabbed a glass and some ice and opened the fridge, his