He didn’t want to leave the kitchen. He wanted to go back to his conversation with Rosie. But when he looked her way, he found her focus on Vanessa’s hand, where it rubbed circles on his back.

It made him step out of Vanessa’s reach. Which made no sense. Why should he care about Rosie’s reaction? She was leaving the day after tomorrow, and his life would go back to normal.

Except, he no longer knew what was normal. Not since he’d discovered Vanessa was hurt about the wedding. Right. They needed to have a conversation about that. Not in front of Rosie. “Yeah, let’s go.”

It occurred to him that he’d learned more about Rosie in the past eighteen hours than he ever had about Vanessa. In the six months they’d worked together, they’d never talked about anything other than their projects. He didn’t know about her family dynamics or any of the things a man should know about the woman he was dating.

As he headed toward the hallway, Vanessa jammed her fingers in his back pocket. Brodie couldn’t help glancing at Rosie. He found her focused on the point of contact and looking oddly unhappy. When she noticed him watching, she broke out in a shy smile.

A pop of excitement rocked his nerves.

How the hell could one little smile have so much power over him? Fuck.

Brodie saw the world pretty much in black and white, so this riot of emotions made him uneasy. Rosie was a houseguest. He shouldn’t care what she thought of anything outside her project. He certainly shouldn’t be reacting to her smile.

At the end of the long L-shaped hallway, he turned left into his master suite. Vanessa closed the door, giving him a seductive look. She reached for the top button of her silk shirt.

“Hang on a second. We need to talk.” But not in his bedroom. He led her out the French doors onto his small, private patio. A warm, sage-scented breeze rustled the tall grasses of the surrounding meadow. Twilight turned the granite mountain range purple.

The moment he turned to face her, she sidled up to him, running her palms from his stomach to his collarbone. “Mm, I’ve missed you.”

He caught her wrist. “Wait. I want to talk about the wedding. I didn’t mean to hurt you by not inviting you.”

She dropped her arms to her sides. “Well, you did. I mean, did it even occur to you to bring me?”

“No.” He could probably be less blunt. “We’re not dating, so if I had, it would’ve changed our relationship.” Created expectations. “We’re not…” He couldn’t say “in a relationship,” because friends with benefits was one. Probably best to ask her. “Let me start over. Where do you see us?”