bad.
She’d been imagining him wasting away with guilt, miserable over having rejected her and pining away to nothing.
“Saw your old man tonight,” he said, letting the door slam shut behind him. “So what’s the deal? You tell your daddy I’m being mean to you?”
“Wow, not subtle or polite,” she said, pretending to measure the vanilla instead of just pouring it into the bowl to give her face time to cool off. Damn her father.
“Genna?”
Pressing her lips together, she finally turned to him. And immediately crossed her arms over her chest. Both to keep her hands to herself, and to hide the instant evidence of her body’s reaction.
He was so damned sexy.
His leather jacket did nothing to disguise the breadth of his shoulders, and instead of sweats he was in jeans tonight. Jeans that molded nicely to his hard thighs. Whew, it was hot in here.
“Well?”
Well, what? Did he want her to say it out loud? That he was gorgeous or that she went into instant meltdown just being in the same room as him.
Then she replayed the conversation and grimaced.
“I didn’t say anything to my father. He was at the meeting when the mayor asked if I’d contacted you again. I said no, my father said never, I walked out. End of story.”
Brows furrowed, Brody stared long enough to make her want to squirm. Then he nodded and looked around the room. His eyes got wider as they passed from counter to tabletop to counter.
He gave a baffled shake of his head. “Do you run your own bakery? Or are you supplying treats for the Fifth Fleet?”
Starting to get a baking complex and wondering if she should look into a twelve-step program, Genna followed his gaze and sighed.
Then, not willing to relax her guard since the minute she did all those schoolgirl dreams would come floating right back, Genna gave him an arch look.
“Why are you here?”
All the way in the room now, he was peering from tray to plate, then chose a butter pecan cookie and popped it into his mouth.
“I told you,” he said around the cookie. “Your father came to see me.”
“And told you I said you were mean?”
“Actually he warned me to stay the hell away from you.”
Genna closed her eyes against the humiliation. She was twenty-seven and her father warned away guys he didn’t like. Her mother called her three times a day and sicced emergency personnel on her if she didn’t respond. Could her life be any more pathetic?
Forcing herself to meet his gaze again, she offered a stiff smile and a shrug.
“Okay. So he warned you. That shouldn’t be a big deal since according to you, you don’t want to be anywhere near me anyhow.” She waited, but his expression didn’t change. “So I’ll ask again. Why are you here?”
“I told you. Because your father told me to stay away.”
“Seriously? You’re here to defy my father?”
“Sure.” He shrugged. “Why not?”
Genna was pretty certain she wouldn’t have been more shocked if he’d stripped naked and asked her to eat cookies off his body.
* * *
IT WAS ALL BRODY could do not to laugh.
The look on Genna’s face was priceless. Baffled fury, coated in a pink wash of embarrassment.
She was adorable.
And he was pretty sure that was the first time in his life he’d ever used the word adorable.
The kitchen timer dinged. After a couple of blinks and a bewildered shake of her head, Genna grabbed a cloth and hurried to the oven. As soon as she opened it, a spicy rich scent filled the room. Giant cookies, the size of his hand and studded with chocolate, covered the tray. His mouth actually watered.
“Let me get this straight.” She set the tray of cookies on the counter, opposite Brody and too far for him to sneak one. A frown between narrowed eyes, she gave him a long look. Strikingly similar to her father’s look, actually. Brody’s lips twitched. She probably wouldn’t want to hear that.
“I write to give you bad news, and you hit on me by mail. I come to see you to pass on an invitation and a message—neither of which are from me—and you feel me up then kick me out. And today my father, clearly overstepping both his parental and legal bounds, warns you to stay away from me.” She paused, as if waiting for him to dispute anything she’d said so far. Since she was pretty much on track, he just shrugged. “And now that I am, according to someone who has no say in it, off-limits, what? You want me?”
“I didn’t say I wanted you,” Brody corrected quickly. No point giving her the wrong idea. Or in this case, the right idea that he planned to ignore.
“Ah, my mistake.” She tossed her hands in the air, the move sending the scent of fresh-baked cookies through the room. Brody’s stomach growled. Risking her glare, and the spatula she was currently smacking against her palm, he snagged a cookie from the closest tray.
It melted in his mouth, rich molasses goodness coating his tongue and sliding down to create a celebration in his stomach.
Incredible.
He lifted the small piece left in his hand, peered at it, then looked closer at the trays around the room. He knew these cookies.
“I’ve had this before.”
“I brought you a plate of them less than a week ago.”
He shook his head. “I tossed those out.”
“You threw out my cookies?” Outrage and shock rang out, her voice rising with each word. Eyes wide, mouth half-open, she kept trying to say something but the words seemed to be stuck somewhere. Instead she shook her head and gestured, tried again, then settled on a low growl.
Brody smothered a laugh.
Well, well.
He’d intimidated her.
He’d groped her.
He’d put on his meanest face and tried to scare her.
And she’d had a sassy comeback every single time.
But now he’d finally done it.
He’d rendered Genna Reilly speechless.
All it’d taken was to insult her cookies.
He couldn’t help it. He laughed out loud.
Shock faded, leaving Genna’s expression blank before it slowly shifted to fury. Red washed over her cheeks and her eyes sparked enough fire to turn the cookies to charcoal.
“I’m sorry?” he offered, trying to smother his laughter. It was hard, though. She was so damned cute with her outrage.
“For...?”
What? She wanted a detailed list? Oh, no. He might limit his experience with women to the length of a long weekend. But he wasn’t stupid. The minute he started confessing, she’d start keeping score. Since she was ahead of the game anyway, he wasn’t about to hand her that kind of ammo.
“You know,” he said slowly, changing the subject. “Every month my gramma sent me a care package. Wherever I was, I’d get a box of cookies. Sugar cookies in Cairo, spice cookies in Dubai. In Korea I got a box of chocolate chunk that were so good, the entire SEAL team was licking crumbs out of the box.”
“So?” Her expression didn’t change. But the way her eyes lit with pleasure assured Brody he was right in his suspicions.
“So,