When Christopher remained silent, he sighed and dragged a hand through his hair. “Look, man. We were just talking. You know I wouldn’t do anything to hurt her. We’ve already talked about this a thousand times.”
Chris’s hands relaxed a fraction. “I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have jumped on you like that.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I’m on your side. I would never touch her.”
“Well, then.” Anna shot him a look that stabbed him straight in the heart and stood. “Glad that’s settled, and I’m safe from being ruined tonight.”
Christopher shook his head. “You don’t get it. Men are—”
“Assholes? Pigs? Chauvinistic maniacs?” She looked mesmerizing in the moonlight, her eyes shining with fury. “Yeah. I agree. You two are the worst of them.”
Brett stood, too. “Anna, I didn’t mean to—”
“Don’t.” She held a hand up. “I expected more from you.” Though she didn’t raise her voice, her words hit Brett as if she had shouted them in his face.
Chris narrowed his eyes. “Why the hell would you expect—”
“And you?” She whirled on Christopher, her back stiff and her hair blowing in the breeze. “Brett has been your best friend for as long as I can remember. Give him a little bit of credit and stop accusing him of climbing into bed with me every time we’re alone together. He’s made it very clear he never will, so back off.”
She held her head up high and marched through the garden, to the veranda, and into the house. The silence she left behind seemed to be louder than words.
Once again, she came to his rescue—even when pissed off at him.
Even when he’d hurt her.
Shit.
He hadn’t even realized he took a step after her until Christopher’s hand clamped down on his shoulder. “Let her go.”
“Dude.” Brett looked down at the hand gripping him. “I might be your best friend, but you need to let go of me. Now.”
Chris dropped his hand and squared his jaw. “Don’t be such an ass.”
“Me?” Brett let out a sardonic laugh. “You’re the one being a dick. We were just talking. It’s not like you caught us fucking in the garden.”
“She was looking up at you like…like…”
Brett took a breath to calm his temper. “Like she was listening to me?”
“No. It was more than that.” Christopher sighed. Brett didn’t say anything, because Chris was right. It had absolutely been more. “Anyway, let’s go. The rest of the boys are waiting for us in the library with drinks.”
“Sounds good.”
They walked together in silence. The second they reached it, the library door opened, and Cole peeked out at them. His eyes scanned Brett. Cole opened the door wider, frowning. “Wyatt’s pouring the whiskey and setting up the cards for poker. Hope you brought cash.”
Chris raised a brow. “Illegal gambling with a cop in the room?”
“Tonight, he’s just my brother,” Cole retorted.
“I need a damn drink,” Chris muttered, pushing past his brother. “Or ten.”
Brett tried to follow Chris inside, but Cole stepped in his path. “We all saw you out there with her, and none of us liked it. You weren’t thinking of breaking your blood vow, were you?”
Stiffening, Brett stared at his friend.
Again with this bullshit.
If one more person reminded him he wasn’t good enough for Anna, he’d punch them in the fucking face…wedding pictures be damned. He smiled the fake smile that Anna hated so much, reeling in his anger. Barely. “Wouldn’t dream of it, man.”
As he headed toward his friends, he kept the fake-ass smile firmly in place. Was it his imagination, or did it seem a little bit harder to hold on to now?
Especially with the people who were supposed to know better.
Chapter Four
A few hours, and a lot of drinking, later…Brett stumbled into his appointed bedroom, not quite steady on his feet anymore. He blinked at the shadowed room. Wyatt had told him third door down the hallway on the left, but this didn’t look like a guest room. It had pink curtains. Had they run out of spare rooms and used the family bedrooms for guests? That made sense. He leaned against the door, blinking at the big bed on the other side of the room.
Or were there two beds?
Christ, he should’ve quit after the first bottle of whiskey. Granted, he hadn’t been drinking alone. But still. He was fairly certain there shouldn’t be two beds in one room.
Unless…