Page 64 of Code Name: Atticus

“The best. Although we were supposed to go rock climbing while I’m here, but he says there’s too much work to do.” He shook his head. “Gotta keep up with Mindy’s expensive tastes, I guess.”

“Who’s Mindy?” Brenna asked.

Luke made a face. “His wife. Did you know she wanted a Hermès bag for her birthday? Thirty thousand bucks for a purse.”

“That’s insane.”

He reached for the breadbasket. “Trevor seems happy, so who am I to judge? I’d love for you both to meet him while you’re in town.”

“That would be great,” I said, wondering if I should broach the subject of Brenna and me or if she was going to. It was the one thing we should’ve talked about, but didn’t on our way here.

“If you’ve got time.” Luke set down his wineglass and studied us for a moment, his eyes tracking between Brenna and me. I watched the exact moment recognition dawned—his gaze caught on my hand resting near Brenna’s on the table, the way sheleaned toward me when she spoke, how we’d been unconsciously mirroring each other’s movements.

Luke’s eyes opened wide. “No.”

Neither of us moved.

“No way.” Luke took a drink of his wine, then refilled his glass.

“Another, sir?” the waiter asked when he passed by the table.

“Definitely. Wait. Bring us the Dalla Valle Grand Cru instead.”

“Yes, sir,” the guy said as he walked away with a big smile on his face.

I put my palm up on the table, and Brenna threaded her fingers through mine.

“Holy shit.” Luke stared at our joined hands. “You two are together.”

“Luke—” Brenna started.

“How long?”

“Since Sunday,” I said.

“Sunday. As in four days ago?”

“Technically,” Brenna added.

“Four days.” He was still staring at our hands. “And you already seem like...”

Brenna raised her chin.“Like what?”

“A couple.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Not that I didn’t see it coming.”

“You’re not upset?” Brenna asked.

He shook his head and laughed. “Upset? Mom literally called this at graduation. She said you two were inevitable; you both just needed time to figure it out.”

“She did not,” Brenna protested.

“She absolutely did. Dad bet her twenty bucks it would take less than five years. Mom said at least ten because you’re bothtoo stubborn to see what’s right in front of you.” He picked up his wineglass and raised it in our direction. “Guess Mom wins.”

“Your parents bet on us getting together?” I asked.

“Sure did.” His expression grew more serious. “Though I’ll admit, I tried to prevent it for a while.”

“By telling me all of Atticus’ dating horror stories?”