Page 68 of Code Name: Atticus

“We could have him checked out if you want.”

“That seems…invasive.”

“It is. But if you’re worried…”

“I’ll keep it in mind.” She reached over and put her hand on my arm. “Thank you for tonight. For being so great with Luke.”

“I wasn’t playing a role, Brenna. That was just me, loving you, in front of your brother.”

“I know. That’s what made it perfect.”

As we pulled into the driveway in Sausalito, my phone buzzed with a text from him.Tell Bug I already texted Mom that I ran into you both. What you tell her about why is up to you, but she knows you’re together in California. You’re welcome.

I showed Brenna the message. She groaned, then laughed. “My phone’s about to explode.”

Sure enough, as we walked inside, her phone rang. She looked at the screen. “Mom.”

“Want me to make tea while you talk to her?”

“Maybe something stronger. This could take a while.”

I kissed her forehead. “At least the hard part’s over.”

“The hard part? Atticus, we haven’t even told her we’re dating yet.”

“One crisis at a time, counselor.”

As she answered the phone with a tentative, “Hi, Mom,” I headed to the kitchen to find that bottle of brandy we’d opened two nights ago.

Behind me, I heard Brenna say, “Yes, I’m with him now. No, not just for work. Mom, it’s complicated—” Her voice rose. “No, we’re not eloping! We’ve only been—Mom, please let me explain?—”

I poured two generous glasses and returned to find her pacing the living room, phone pressed to her ear.

“Yes, he’s taking care of me. No, I’m not pregnant.Mother!” She caught my eye and mouthed, “Help me.”

I held up the half-full snifter. She grabbed it and took a large sip while I could hear her mother still chattering.

“Mom, I have to go. Yes, I’ll call you tomorrow. Yes, I’ll tell him. Love you too.” She ended the call and collapsed onto the couch. “It’s worse than I expected.”

I sat beside her. “In what way?”

“She wants to know if you think your parents would prefer chicken or fish for the main course.”

“For what?”

She turned her head and raised a brow.

“You’re right. That’s bad.” I pulled her feet onto my lap and rubbed her arches. “Could be worse, though.”

“How?”

“She could hate me.”

“Nobody hates you, Mason. You’re annoyingly likable.”

“Annoyingly?”

“Promise me your parents won’t be this bad.”