“A heck of a shock.”
Jenna smiled briefly. “A heck indeed. And when Veronica brought Logan home with her, it went to hell fast. They really seemed to love each other, and he needed her so much. I think she needed to be needed. If that makes any sense? But once he healed, that connection faded. It was like, the Florence Nightingale syndrome or something. Nurses and patients falling for each other.” She laughed. “I don’t think that’s what it’s called. I need to apply more coffee.”
Seth smiled. “I understand what you’re saying.” He passed her his ridiculous cat mug, and she finished the last few gulps of dark roast with a grateful smile.
“Anyway. He just seemed a bit unclenched this weekend. He’s been wound tight for a long time. And you’re wound pretty freaking tight yourself, if we’re being honest.”
He could only laugh. “Which apparently we are. Yes, I’m wound tight. I can’t deny it.”
Jenna tilted her head. “You’re both uptight in different ways, but maybe together you can loosen each other up.” She laughed, slapping a hand to her forehead and whispering, “Oh my god, listen to me! I’m talking like you two are really a couple and this isn’t a fake relationship.”
Seth laughed, then blurted, “We ran into Brandon and Peter yesterday.”
She sat up comically straight, eyes wide. “What? How? Where?”
“Saratoga Springs. We were shopping for a table and chairs.”
Jenna’s eyebrows sailed north. “Okay, I need a minute to process the idea of my brother…antiquing.”
“He was a good sport. In more ways than one.”
After a pause, Jenna poked Seth’s arm. “What happened? Tell me already.”
Seth gave her a quick version of events. “So he pretended to be my boyfriend, and we walked off like… Like Brandon and Peter and the others didn’t matter at all.”
“Yes!” She pumped her fist and whispered, “I love it.”
He had to grin. “It felt pretty good.” So did your brother’s hand on my butt. Seth imagined he could still feel the pressure of Logan’s palm and fingers, firm against the swell of his backside.
She asked, “Hey, did Dale set up the dinner?”
“Oh. Let me check.” Seth typically checked his work email at home in evenings and over the weekends in case of anything urgent, but realized he hadn’t.
His brain helpfully supplied a collage of images of what he’d been doing instead—seeing Brandon and Peter, Logan’s hot breath and scruff against his face, his hand on Seth’s rear…
“Imagine I’m saying something really dirty.”
“You sure you’re okay?”
“Yep!” Seth could feel Jenna’s gaze on him, his skin prickling as he clicked the mouse too hard to open his email. There it was:
Sender: Gupta, Dale Subject: Dinner with Angela Barker
Seth double-clicked and read the short message. To Jenna, he quietly said, “Thursday night, seven p.m.”
She scanned the email, leaning in close, smelling like apples and Tide. “Okay. This works.”
He took a deep breath. “Dinner Thursday. Then we leave Friday after work for the retreat.”
Jenna said, “It is blowing my mind to think of Logan…canoodling with you.”
“Well, we are in a committed fake relationship,” he murmured. “He did a great job. I admit I was surprised.” He quickly added, “Not that I thought Logan was a homophobe or anything. He just comes across very macho, I guess.”
“Yeah, between the Marines and the railroad, he’s not used to being in touch with his feelings or anything. Not that all gay men are in touch with their feelings.” She eyed him speculatively. “Speaking of which, I’d expect you to be moping today, and probably pining after seeing Brandon. Ruminating at the very least.”
Huh. She was right. “How do you know I’m not?”
“Not what?” Matt’s shaggy head appeared over the partition between their pods. “What are you whispering about?” He mouthed, “Caper?”
Jenna nodded and waved him over impatiently. In his usual sneakers and dark jeans, Matt came around and wheeled over one of the desk chairs the interns had used, spinning it to sit backwards and lean his forearms on the top of the backrest. Under his suit jacket, his graphic T-shirt had the image of a guitar and the name of a band Seth had never heard of.
After Jenna filled him in, Matt grinned. “Oh, man. How much do I love that you got to rub your hot new boyfriend in that douchenozzle’s face?”
“Fake boyfriend,” Seth whispered. “Well, fake fiancé, actually.”
“Whatever. Douchenozzle doesn’t have to know that.” Matt’s brow furrowed. “But yeah, I’m shocked you’re not brooding about the whole thing.”
“Again, how do you know I’m not?”
“No fidgeting,” Jenna said. “It’s your brooding-about-Brandon tell. You fidget endlessly, like you want to climb out of your skin.”
Matt said, “I can hear your chair when you do it. Squeak, creak, squeak.”
“Oh.” Seth was taken aback. He shifted then, recrossing his legs, feeling dangerously exposed. His chair creak-squeeeeeaked. He froze. “Uh. Guilty as charged, it seems.”