Only with You (The Best Mistake 1)

On one hand, it was a relief that there was no longer someone out there thinking she was a prostitute.

But on the other hand, the man made her uncomfortable.

And angry.

And, most annoying of all, he made her feel a little…tingly.

Hearing her mother yelling for her, Sophie reluctantly shuffled into the kitchen and reclaimed her spot at the bar stool next to Will. Nobody acknowledged her return.

Sophie risked a glance at Gray. But he’d apparently decided the best course of action was to pretend she didn’t exist, and didn’t once look her way. Which suited Sophie just fine—she’d happily let Brynn absorb all of that surly, scowling attention.

Didn’t mean she couldn’t study him, though. It was somewhat reassuring to realize that he looked exactly the same as she remembered. Fastidious and boring. The suit had been replaced by khakis and a button-down, but the military-cut dark hair, tense jaw, and piercing gaze were all familiar.

Sophie’s eyes moved to her sister. As usual, Brynn’s light blonde hair fell in a sleek, straight swish around her shoulders. Her light blue sweater set was the perfect color for her gray-blue eyes, and her conservative silk skirt didn’t have a single wrinkle.

Gray had said they’d only been on a couple casual dates. Did that mean…sex? Sophie glanced between the two of them, considering. Instinct told her no. There was too much pretense. Brynn hadn’t once let her orthodontist smile waver, and Gray was hardly staring at Brynn with besotted adoration.

His knuckles were clenched around his wineglass, and his posture held all the approachability of an army general. Sophie had to admit that his tension was perhaps warranted for once. Marnie was currently trying to convince him of the merits of buying a home in the suburbs.

“There’s just so much more room away from the city to start a family!” Marnie was saying to a stricken-looking Gray.

Sophie couldn’t help it. She felt sorry for the guy. There were some things you protected even your worst enemy from. Marnie Dalton was one of them.

She dug her tennis shoe into Will’s shin, trying not to think about how scrubby she must seem in comparison with Brynn’s country-club attire. At least she wasn’t wearing her hooker boots.

Will shot her an irritated glance. What?

Do something! She flicked her eyes obviously in Gray’s direction.

His lip curled. No.

Her toe hit his shin again with more force.

He cut her a glare. You owe me.

“So, Gray,” Will interrupted grudgingly, “how did you and Brynn meet?”

Marnie gasped. “Of course! I didn’t even think to ask. How considerate, William.”

Sophie rolled her eyes. Easy, Mom. Take on one dinner guest at a time. And she’d have bet her nonexistent life savings that Brynn had already told her mother exactly how they’d met. Marnie probably had an entire scrapbook dedicated to it.

“We met at the gym, actually,” Brynn said, setting her hand on Gray’s overworked bicep. “He was at the treadmill next to me, and when I dropped my iPod, he picked it up.”

“Naturally, I had to ask her to dinner,” Gray said with all the emotion of a cyborg.

“Oh, naturally,” Sophie said around a piece of bread. Her mother gave her a warning glare.

“Honey, is dinner ready? I’m starving,” Sophie’s dad said distractedly, tearing himself away from the kitchen TV.

“Let me just plate this chicken and we’re all set. Sophie, dear, if you could grab the wine, and, Brynn, take that salad to the table with you…”

“May I carry anything for you?” Gray asked.

Sophie rolled her eyes. Where

were all these pretty manners when he’d left her standing like a cheap whore in a Las Vegas elevator lobby?

Marnie’s hand fluttered to her chest. “Oh, goodness, no. You just make yourself comfortable for our cozy little family meal. Will, show Gray into the dining room, would you?”