The Gratitude Guarantee (Boyfriend in the Bargain #4)

12. Brenna

12

brENNA

I t’s nearly midnight by the time I finally fall into bed. I’m exhausted, and I know I should get some sleep since we have to get up in just a few hours for the race, but my brain is wide awake. The peace and quiet I enjoyed with Zach on the roof was replaced with a frenzy of activity as Heather’s family brought themselves and all their bags inside. I managed to cover my pie with a dish towel and hide it in an upper cabinet just before my nieces trailed into the kitchen looking for the hot chocolate their Nan had promised. Two hours and a half a gallon of milk later, everyone is full of cocoa and finally settled in for the night.

I roll over in my twin bed and stare at the wall to my right that divides my room from the guest room. Where Zach is.

If I’m being honest, he’s the main reason I’m unable to sleep right now. He continues to surprise me at each turn, and what’s more, each surprise fuels a growing sense of fascination. The comment he made to Kenzie in the driveway about me wanting him but not needing him replays on a loop in my memory. It was exactly the right thing to say in the moment and made me feel so much better after hearing Kenzie repeating what she’d heard from Heather.

I huff out an annoyed sigh.

It’s hard not to get your feelings hurt when you hear things like that. I love her dearly and I know she loves me too, but her habit of offering unsolicited opinions about my personal life can be hard to ignore sometimes. I know she wants good things for me and that it’s just part of her personality, but occasionally I get tired of her acting like the big sister with all the answers. It’d be nice to just hang out with her like a friend, to relax and not be waiting for her to tell me how she would do things.

Before this trip, I wondered if not coming clean to my family about Zach being a boy who is my friend rather than a true boyfriend would make me feel guilty, and on some level, I guess it does because honesty matters to me. But when I consider that bringing Zach was a direct response to my mom arranging this ridiculous mandatory contest combined with Heather’s comment, I feel absolved. After all, I was planning to come to Thanksgiving by myself like usual. But apparently, that wasn’t good enough.

So, like always, I do what needs to be done. And what needed to be done this time was recruit a man who would win me some respect from my family, since they clearly all think I need someone to be my better half.

It’d be easy to resent the guy if he wasn’t so likable. With his easy smile and laidback temperament, it’s no wonder every member of my family flocked around him this evening. Even Ben had no problem letting go of any initial distrust from their unfortunate introduction after discussing the ends and outs of lawn fertilizer. Apparently, an immaculate, weed-free yard is something my brother-in-law cares deeply about. I guess you never stop learning about people.

I’m sure there was an aspect of novelty, too, as there usually is when you bring a new person into an established group. And, as my mom pointed out and Heather reiterated later, he’s not bad to look at.

At all.

Which has me wondering, why did I never notice that about him before? It’s not like it’s subtle. He’s got the strong jaw, broad shoulders, and charming smile that most women I know would collectively agree is appealing. So what’s changed?

As much as I’d love to come to a solid conclusion, I’d rather save the rest of the necessary pondering until later. The clocking is ticking on my sleeping time, and I need to make the most of it. I didn’t go to all the trouble of finding a suitable partner just to lose the competition to my brother and sister who are presumably sleeping peacefully instead of evaluating their life choices and thinking incessantly about their handsome fake boyfriend.

Tugging my comforter up under my chin, I try to visualize the last time I felt totally relaxed and smile when I realize it was only a few hours ago. Slowly, I drift off remembering the serene appearance of the star-studded night sky and the warmth of Zach’s comforting presence beside me.

Despite the late night and early alarm, I wake up feeling energized and excited for the day. I’ve always loved Thanksgiving, and I’m determined to have a great day with my family and Zach. As every girl knows, the first step to having a good day is dressing for the occasion, so I tiptoe across the hall to use the bathroom and wash my face, then pull on my favorite cool-weather running set. The leggings and matching half-zip top are silky against my skin, and the soft periwinkle is a lovely complement to my skin tone and hair color, if I do say so myself. I take the time to French braid my hair and swipe on a quick layer of mascara and tinted lip balm, the only makeup that will be safe from the effects of sweat later on.

Eyeing myself critically in the mirror, I deem myself acceptable, at worst. Dare I say cute, at best?

I haven’t heard anyone else moving around yet, so I open the door expecting to find an empty, dark hallway. Instead, I find a dark hallway with a large figure looming out of it. I instinctively convulse in surprise, and my phone goes flying out of my hand as I shriek and kick out with one foot. The figure grunts and I fall backward onto my rear, the toes of my right foot throbbing where I made contact with my kick.

“It’s me, Brenna! It’s Zach.”

I freeze, except for the hand that reaches to cradle my foot, massaging at the pain in my toes. “Zach? You scared ten years off me.”

He holds out a hand to help me up, pulling me to a stand in one easy motion as if I weigh as much as a child. “I’m sorry. I was just waiting for a turn in the bathroom.”

Which is perfectly reasonable. Only a complete lunatic would react the way I did to a nominally frightening situation. I take a deep breath to calm my racing heart as the door to Heather and Ben’s room flies open.

“Brenna?” Ben calls, dashing into the hallway. “Are you alright?” Heather is right behind him, though she peers around the doorframe more cautiously, letting him evaluate the threat before venturing forth.

“I’m fine, guys,” I tell them, waving them back toward their room. “I just bumped into Zach in the dark and stubbed my toe.”

“Yeah, that’s what happened,” Zach murmurs sarcastically. I glare at him, prepared to shush him to save my dignity, but his amused smile puts me at ease. He’s not going to rat me out for being a fraidy-cat.

“Sorry we woke you up.”

Heather yawns and bats a hand at me. “We needed to get up anyway. I’ll go get the girls up.”

She pads down the hall to Isaac’s old room, where Mom and Dad parked Bella and Kenzie for the next few days. Ben eyes Zach warily, and I bet he’s thinking this is the second time in less than twenty-four hours that my new boyfriend has posed a false security threat. I thought they’d made nice last night over cocoa, but Ben’s not looking too friendly at the moment.

“We’d better let you get dressed,” I tell Ben. I grab Zach’s arm and pull him behind me through the closest open door, which happens to be his room, closing it behind us as I flip on the light. As soon as we’re alone, I let go and clasp my hands in front of me. “Well, that was…interesting.”

“That’s one word for it.” Zach crosses his arms. “Are you okay?”

“Fine. I’m just fine. Great, really. How are you? Did I kick you hard?” My toes are barely hurting now, so probably he’s fine? But it seems like the polite thing to ask and be sure.

“Not too hard. I’m fine too, except that I still really need to use the bathroom. Did you need something or can I…?” He gestures vaguely toward the door.

For the first time, I register that he’s still in his nightclothes, which consists of a pair of knit drawstring shorts and a white T-shirt. His eyes still look slightly bleary, like he stumbled out of bed and across the hall to the bathroom only to be accosted by a crazy lady…because that’s pretty much what happened.

I don’t need a mirror to tell me my face is the color of a ripe strawberry. Why did I drag him in here and close the door? Why have I made any of the choices I have in the last five minutes?

“By all means.” I make a shooing motion toward the door. “Don’t mind me.”

He scrutinizes my face for another long second, then nods and twists the knob. “I’ll be right back.”

I give him a thumbs-up. I suppose he has no way of knowing that I plan to flee the scene as soon as he leaves, although he probably should guess that since it’s the only course of action that makes any sense. No way am I waiting in his room for him to come back from the bathroom so we can compare notes on how awkward I’m being this morning.

I move to stand just inside the door. As soon as I hear the snick of the latch on the bathroom door, I dart through the hall and into my room. Scooping up my running shoes, I sprint for the stairs.

Mom is already in the kitchen when I enter. She’s always been a rise-and-shiner, so I’m not the least bit surprised to find her dressed to run and in the process of setting out a selection of granola bars, fruit, and sports drinks on the island. I am a little surprised to see her wearing a toboggan that looks like a turkey, complete with tail feathers springing from the top and wide eyes perched above a beak in the front.

I can’t help myself. “What are you wearing?”

“What does it look like I’m wearing?” she retorts good-naturedly. My mother is the person who kindly taught me that there is, in fact, such a thing as a stupid question.

“I meant to say, why are you wearing a turkey on your head?”

“Because I bought it to support a fundraiser and it seemed like a waste to not wear it at least once, especially since it couldn’t be more perfect for a Turkey Trot.”

She turns away from me, and I see the words “Run now, gobble later” embroidered on the back. I blink once and decide not to inquire further. I suspect Heather and the girls will do the job when they get down here. I settle onto a stool at the island, pull on my shoes, and grab a banana and a cinnamon almond bar.

I have a solid four minutes to compose myself before I hear footsteps on the stairs. I keep my eyes on my phone, pretending I’m absorbed in checking my email as Zach slides onto a stool next to me.

“Good morning,” he says. “I didn’t get a chance to say it earlier.”

I’m about to return the greeting when all of sudden an email actually does catch my eye. It’s from Mr. Springfield himself—not from his secretary as it normally is.

I tap it open and immediately feel my blood begin to boil at the contents.

Ms. Hartford,

It seems I was mistaken about the timeline for the project I gave you. The client needs the updated contract completed by Monday, so I’ll need your changes marked and returned to the office by end of day Friday, including the memo flagging any issues the merger might create in the terms of the document.

Happy holidays,

Richard Springfield III

“Something wrong?” Zach’s voice holds a note of concern, and I smooth my features out before I click my phone off and look up at him.

“Fine, just a…work thing.” I mark the message as unread to deal with later and tuck my phone into the side pocket of my leggings. “Nothing to worry about.”

Zach doesn’t look convinced by my vague assurance. “You sure? You looked pretty angry at whatever you were reading.”

“This is how I always look in the morning,” I say with an exaggerated frown.

“If you say so.”

I’m saved from further scrutiny by Bella and Kenzie’s arrival. Bella looks bleary-eyed and cold with her hands retracted into the sleeves of her oversized hoodie, her steps slow and tired. In contrast, Kenzie looks like she’s already chugged an energy drink as she skips in and wraps my mom in a hug.

“Morning, Nan. I love your hat!”

“I thought you might say that.” Mom opens a drawer to withdraw an identical toboggan. “I got you one too.”

Kenzie gasps in delight and tugs it on over her fluffy blonde bed hair. “Thanks! I think this will definitely help me run faster. Look, Bella, isn’t it awesome?”

I laugh at the horror on Bella’s face. “I don’t think it’s Bella’s style, Kenz, but it looks great on you.”

Kenzie curtseys. “Thank you.”

The kitchen continues to fill over the next few minutes as Dad, Ben, and Heather join us.

“Okay, here’s how the scoring is going to work for your first challenge,” Mom announces when we’re all gathered. “I sent Isaac a text already to explain. It’s very simple—the team with the lowest combined time wins. So even if you’re slow, you still have a chance if your partner is fast.” She cuts a not-so-subtle glance at Heather who gives an outraged, “Hey!”

Ben chuckles and pats her affectionately on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, honey. I’ll have to leave you behind, but I’ll do my best to lower our time.”

Once everyone has had a snack, we’re ready to go, dividing up between my car and my parents’. It’s a quick drive to the race site, and the parking isn’t even as bad as I expect it to be, which is a win all on its own. We troop over to the registration area where we meet up with Isaac and Sara and get our numbers.

Isaac greets me with a hug but has surprisingly little to say when he and Zach are introduced. I have to wonder if Heather or Mom gave him a heads up about the “Brenna’s new boyfriend” situation. Or maybe he’s just matured enough to be happy for me and mind his own business. Either way is fine by me. I’m not about to complain at the lack of teasing from my little brother.

“Pin me?” I hold out four safety pins and my number tag to Zach and turn my back. He accepts them without commen,t and I feel a light pressure as he positions the tag between my shoulder blades. An unexpected wave of self-consciousness comes over me as I shiver at the gentle brush of his fingers on my back, somehow warm even through the fabric of my running top.

“Looks like we need to get you warmed up.” His low voice rumbles in my ear as he leans forward to be heard over the milling crowd, and I shiver yet again as his breath tickles the back of my neck.

“I guess so,” I agree, happy to let him think that it’s the temperature causing my reaction. What is wrong with me? There’s nothing remotely intimate about him helping me with my number, and he doesn’t seem to be affected at all when he faces away for me to return the favor. I fasten his number as quickly as I can without jabbing a pin into his broad back, determined not to pay any attention to how solid his muscles feel under his fleece pullover.

With everything I have going on right now, I absolutely cannot afford to get distracted. Time to put on my game face and get ready to run.