Two male voices inside were arguing. Huh. She glanced at her watch. Six thirty in the morning. Too early for Pop to be up, or Grant, who was a late sleeper. She tended to get up with the sunrise, just like Colt and Dane. Habit from Alaska for them, she supposed, and habit for her from years of living in the back seat of a car.
Like any good nosy busybody, she pressed her ear to the front door to listen in.
“You can’t leave right now.” Dane sounded almost betrayed. “What am I supposed to do while you’re gone?”
“Same thing you always do. Hold classes. Keep Brenna out of trouble. Keep Grant from killing Brenna.”
“But we have classes booked every week for the next three weeks.”
“Then we’ll go in four weeks.”
“But what if we have classes then?”
“Dane, Beth Ann and I are going to have our damn honeymoon, whether or not it fits into your precious schedule. Now you’re starting to sound like Grant.”
“Fuck off, man. I’m just thinking of the business.”
All right, time for her to step in and distract them before things got ugly. Brenna opened the front door and yawned loudly, alerting them to her presence. “Morning, boys.”
They both nodded at the sight of her. Dane sat at the wooden desk that he shared with Colt, which was a pretty nice desk when it wasn’t covered with magazines, books, old coffee mugs, and various other crap. Colt, naturally, was seated on the couch, staring at the Xbox. And both had stopped talking.
Screw that. She smiled brightly at them. “So what’s up? I heard something about a honeymoon?”
“Romeo here wants to abandon us for a few weeks and take his new missus up to Alaska and visit the cabin,” Dane said, crossing his arms over his chest. “I told him we had to be responsible adults because of the job.”
Colt glared at Dane. “Not my fault you’ve been roped into a big church wedding, buddy. Don’t take it out on me.”
Dane rubbed a hand down his face, looking frustrated. “God, don’t remind me.”
“You can still back out,” Colt pointed out.
“No, he can’t,” Brenna said cheerfully, moving to her chair and curling up cross-legged. “Then Miranda and Beth Ann will never talk to either one of you again.”
“Miranda wants a big wedding, so that’s what she’ll get,” Dane said, though he sounded a little weary at the thought. “Who’d have thought I’d end up with the high-maintenance girl?”
Colt snorted.
Dane just smiled that silly, lovesick expression he had on his face every time someone mentioned Miranda.
Brenna put a finger to her mouth and pantomimed gagging. “You two are pathetic.”
“You’re just jealous,” Dane said cheerfully.
“Nope. I just feel sorry for any women who have to put up with you two clowns.” She pulled a box of Pop-Tarts out of her desk and sighed when she realized it was empty. “Who was supposed to buy groceries for the lodge?”
“You,” Colt said.
“Oh crap. That’s right. I forgot.” Brenna tossed the box over onto Grant’s immaculate desk and shrugged. “Anyone for a donut run?”
Two male hands went up.
“Ok. I’ll get my keys.” She dug through the messy drawer of her desk until she located her keys, held them aloft, and then bounced out of her chair. “Be back in ten minutes.”
“Hey, Bren,” Dane called. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
She turned and snapped her fingers. “Right. If Pop asks, one of the four-wheelers looks a little low on two tires. Can you get him to take a look at it?”
“I think he meant your pants,” Colt drawled.
She glanced down at her legs. She wore a pair of men’s boxer shorts. SpongeBob SquarePants. “What’s wrong with my pants?”
“They’re missing,” Colt pointed out dryly. “Along with your shoes.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m going to the donut store, not the prom. Like I said, I’ll be back in five.” And she made sure to wiggle her bare feet as she left.
BY THE TIME SHE RETURNED with a box of fresh donuts and a tray of hot coffees, she was disappointed to see that Grant was up. He frowned at the sight of her bare legs and boxer shorts and ratty T-shirt. Hey, at least she’d brushed her hair. She gave him an arch smile as she entered the room, setting the donuts down in front of Colt on the coffee table and snagging a coffee.
“Morning, boss,” she said in her sweetest voice, because she knew it would drive Grant crazy. She grabbed a donut and headed back to her desk.
Grant frowned over at her as she sat down. “Don’t eat that at your desk, Brenna. You’ll get crumbs into your keyboard.”
She deliberately took a messy bite of donut, half the food falling out of her mouth and dribbling crumbs all over her desk.
He sighed and turned away, his hands going to the pockets of his slacks as he paced before the fireplace. It was before nine and the man already looked immaculate. Sheesh. She gave him an annoyed look as she ate, noting his dark gray slacks with a pleat pressed into them, the lighter gray sweater he wore over a black collared shirt. Even his hair looked perfect. Tousled, perfectly styled waves that probably wouldn’t look that way without a ton of product. He was perfectly shaven, not a hair out of place. And he was frowning as the two other men attacked the donuts as if they hadn’t eaten in weeks.