to have some fun, too?”
Her sister had a point. “You’re right. Maybe I have been overly picky. I just don’t want to get hurt again.”
“I don’t want you to get hurt again, either. You and Mitchell were not right for each other. But you and Finn? Now that has potential. Why don’t you see where it could go and instead of worrying about next month or next year, just live in the moment with him.”
“Well, we are engaged, you know.”
Honor laughed. “Plan a very long engagement with him. In the meantime, how about just dating him?”
“It’s a plan. That is if he’s still speaking to me.”
“Uh-oh. What did you do?”
“I might have in a roundabout way vacillated about all these upcoming events, giving him the impression that I might not be interested? I don’t know. I was confused and not communicating well. And I’m sure he’s angry with me for getting close to him, then backing off. It was juvenile behavior.”
Those mixed signals? Bad, Brenna. So bad.
“Oh, Brenna. You need to go fix things with him.”
“I know. I will. Tomorrow.”
Honor stood and grabbed Brenna’s other hand, hauling her out of the chair. “No. Fix it tonight. Go over to his place and apologize, then make your intentions clear to him.”
She frowned. “You’re mean. And bossy. I thought Erin was the bossy one.”
“You’d like to think that.” She pointed her sister toward the door. “Go.”
“Okay, I’m going.”
She went upstairs, slipped on her sandals, swiped her hair into some semblance of order and sucked in several breaths of self-encouragement as she came downstairs and walked out the door.
He was probably still mad at her, she thought as she made her way along the path in the dark. She’d been rude and confusing instead of excited about the prospect of the two of them spending more time together. She wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t want to talk to her.
She batted away mosquitoes as she wound the corner to Finn’s house, then immediately started scratching her arms. She was going to be eaten alive before she ever got there, swarmed by these bloodsucking bastards. They’d find her body in the morning, bumpy and unrecognizable after the mosquitoes feasted on her flesh all night long. And she’d have never had the chance to tell Finn she was sorry.
Or maybe she was making up this revolting death story in her head because she was afraid of facing him.
“Woman up, Brenna. You can do this.”
As she got to the house, she saw that the lights were on but he wasn’t outside with Murphy. Maybe he’d gone out.
Maybe you wish he’d gone out, you big baby.
Just to shut up her annoying conscience, she rapped loudly on the door.
Murphy barked, and a few seconds later the door swung open.
“Oh, hey. You should have texted to tell me you were on your way over. I’d have met you halfway.”
Even if he was mad he’d have done that, because that’s who Finn was.
“No big deal. I thought we could talk.”
“Sure. Come inside. Mosquitoes are vicious tonight.”
“Don’t I know it. I already have like fifty bites on me.”
She followed him in and he turned as they made their way into the small living area.
Murphy came over, excitedly wagging his tail. She bent down to give him some love.
“Didn’t you put repellent on?”
She straightened. “I forgot.”
“Ouch. Let me get you something before you swell up. Grab yourself a drink. I’ll be right back.”
“That’s not—” But he had already disappeared into his bedroom, Murphy trailing behind him.
She shrugged and went to the fridge. Seeing an open bottle of chardonnay, she pulled it out and found a glass to pour some into.
“I have lotion that’ll kill the itch,” he said as he came back in. “Where did you get bit?”
“My arms. My neck.”
“Come on. Take a seat here and let me take care of you.”
“I can do it.”
He held some cotton balls and the lotion in his hand, then smiled at her. “More fun if I do it.”
Evidently he wasn’t angry with her. Or at least not as angry as she’d thought. “Okay.”
She picked a spot on the sofa and he sat facing her, poured some of the lotion onto a cotton ball and dabbed it onto each of the bites on her arm. It instantly cooled and calmed the annoying itch, giving her relief. But she supposed she couldn’t sit there silently, not when she’d come over with specific intentions.
“I came over to apologize for my behavior earlier.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes. I was momentarily