His gaze flicked to hers and his jaw ticked beneath his stubble. “Not gonna lie—I hope we get naked at some point soon. Hell, I’ve been walking around for weeks with a perpetual hard-on, just thinking about how good it’s gonna feel to finally be inside you.” His hand stilled and he sighed. “But I’m a little out of my element with the rest of this. This seeing each other stuff. I don’t date, Jenn. I haven’t in years.”
“Oh.” So the afternoon of fishing...that was just two friends hanging out. Not any different than this afternoon with Sam and Ty. “I’m glad we cleared that up.” I’m probably going to cry the second I’m alone, but hey, now I know.
“Me, too. I should’ve said something sooner, so you’d understand why I’m pretty much a fuck-up at this dating thing, but the truth is...I can’t stop thinking about you. Then you called...” He gave his head a shake and he reminded her of the first boy who’d picked her at the front door. Nervous and determined at the same time. “I know you live on the other side of the state and the technical shit is gonna be hard to work out, but I don’t want this to be the only time you drop in. I kinda like how you look in my space.”
Wait... “What? But you just said...” she fumbled, hope rising through her only-moments-old disappointment.
“Let’s give this dating thing a shot.” He flashed a smile...and then quickly frowned, self-consciousness flaring once again. “I mean, if that’s what you want. Maybe I’m making assumptions—”
Umph! She jumped up, wrapped her arms around his neck, and her legs around his hips.
“Assume away, Superman.”
Chapter Eleven
“Are you sure about this? We could hit Midtown in ten minutes and have someone else do the cooking for us. Clean up, too.” Brody glanced reluctantly at the grocery store, closing the passenger door of his truck after Jenny slid out.
“I’m positive. Besides, this is way more fun.” She tangled her hand with his and tugged him toward the store. “Trust me, okay?”
“That’s usually my line.”
She stuck her tongue out over her shoulder and he had to practically sprint to keep up with her as she grabbed a cart and sped around the eerily quiet store like Danica Patrick on a NASCAR track. He usually did his shopping right after work, so this nighttime endeavor—with her—was doubly strange. And oddly comfortable.
Jenny tossed in way more leafy green vegetables than he’d eaten in the last month, maybe two, and he got a little nervous. Until she added not one, but two thick, juicy steaks...and a bottle of red wine. Definitely his kind of woman.
“How about dessert?” She stared at the long row of baking supplies, tapping a finger against her lip, like she was serious. Then he realized she was.
“You’re going to bake?” In his oven? Hell, did it even work? Were there dirty dishes tucked inside it? He couldn’t remember...
“I love to bake,” she sighed, pulling a box of brownie mix from the shelf. “And just for the record, this doesn’t count. This boxed stuff is cheating, but we don’t have time for scratch baked goods, so we’ll have to compromise.” Into the cart the box went. Followed by a small container of oil. “Just need some eggs and ice cream.”
Now that was more his speed. Taking control of the cart, he led her toward the dairy section and then the frozen foods. Only to freeze in his tracks when he rounded the corner and saw Ernie Martin’s eyes staring back at him.
“Corporal Nelson,” the older man smiled and all Brody could see was the man sitting amidst the crowd of funeral goers, his wife in tears beside him, as they prepared to bury their son. Twenty-one guns, silver stars...a flag that should’ve been on a shelf somewhere, not clutched Mrs. Martin’s hands.
“Mr. Martin. Sir.” Brody held out his hand and, damn, if the fucking thing didn’t already shake.
“Ernie. Please.” The older man held on longer than was customary, and Brody’s gut went from hungry to full on nauseous in seconds. Don’t look at me like that. Don’t look at me like I’m a goddamn hero. I failed you, remember? I fucking failed. “Susan and I were just talking about you and Sam the other day.”
“Why was that, sir?” Brody clenched his teeth and his jaw popped, sharp pain shooting through his face and down his neck. So he ground harder, hoping for a little more of that temporary release.
“Just wondering how you were doing. Seems you dropped off the face of the earth after you brought our boy home.”
Fuck. How could this man stand there, making small talk in the middle of the friggin’ grocery store about one of the worst days of Brody’s life? Probably the worst day ever for the Martins.
“Doing fine, sir. Working, mostly.” Please, God, just end this now. Please...
“Does this beautiful young lady belong to you?” Ernie Sr. tipped his head to the side, looking around Brody with a curious grin on his face.
Shit. Jenny. Who probably wondered what the hell this was all about.
“I’m Jenny, Brody’s friend.” She took the man’s hand between both of hers. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Mr. Martin.”
Dammit. She paid way too much attention.
“Ah, thank you, my dear, but that’s the nature of living a military life, isn’t it? Damn proud of what my boy did. Ain’t no sadness in that.”
Except that the Martin’s would never have grandchildren now. They’d never see Ernie get married. They’d never see Ernie have an actual girlfriend either.
And that felt like a slap across the face all its own. What the hell was he doing, thinking he deserved Jenny in his life? How fucking unfair was it that he got to meet someone who wanted to feed him vegetables and bake him goddamn brownies while his buddy lay six feet under?
“I’m proud of you, son,” the older man said, shifting his watery-eyed focus back to Brody. “You deserve to be happy. You know that, right?”
No. No, no, no. Not this. Not now. Not ever.
“Look, Mr. Martin, we’ve gotta get going. It’s getting late and...” There’s this food to cook that I suddenly have no appetite for.
“Sure thing. It was nice to meet you, Jenny. Take good care this boy, you hear?”
Jenny curled into Brody’s side and squeezed. No way could she not feel him shaking. “I intend to,” she said sweetly and another surge of guilt rocked his conscience.
He needed to tell her the truth. It couldn’t wait any longer.
***
“I’m gonna grab a shower.” Brody dropped the grocery bags on the kitchen island and rubbed a hand around the back of his neck. He’d been distracted ever since the run-in with Ernie’s father and, frankly, it scared the crap out of her. She knew enough about what had happened to put the pieces of the puzzle together. Add in the remark Reed had made about Brody not passing his evaluation and it was clear there was more to the story than Brody had originally let on.
“Okay.” She smiled softly and began taking the food from the plastic bags. “If you don’t mind me poking around for pans, I’ll start cooking.”
He nodded, his dark green eyes distant and his brow pinched. “Yeah. Sure. Whatever.” He turned on his heel without saying anything more and, a few seconds later, what she assumed was his bedroom door closed with a loud thud. Not quite a slam, but with enough force that she second-guessed whether or not she should stay. Then again, he hadn’t asked her to go either.
She worked quickly and found the pans she needed to sauté the greens, sear the steaks, and roast the potatoes. While the potatoes did their thing, she mixed the brownie batter and got it ready to bake while they tackled the main meal. By the time Brody returned, dressed in a pair of baggy jogging pants and a threadbare Royals t-shirt, she had the meat just about finished. He still looked tense, but somewhat less so.
“Damn, you don’t mess around when it comes to cooking, do you?” he asked, arching an eyebrow as he lifted the cover on the greens and wrinkled his nose. “I haven’t eaten those since I was small enough for my mother to force them into my mouth.”