“Ha. I can’t imagine that.” Jenny smiled, grateful that some of the tension seemed to have faded.
“You don’t know my mother then. She’s little but fierce.”
“Oh, I believe it. I have one of those, too. I just can’t imagine you ever being small enough for anyone to man-handle.” She tossed a flirty smile over her shoulder, tongs in hand for the meat.
“What are you saying, I’m a brute?” He jerked in his chin in, but it was hard to take his offense seriously when he also puffed his chest and flexed his biceps. Biceps that stretched the worn sleeves of the older shirt, they were so massive.
Holy hot flash.
“More or less,” she teased and he grunted, proving her point. “Do you mind grabbing the plates?”
Bruised ego forgotten, he got busy, rummaging around the kitchen and gathering everything they needed. “Since I’m such an animal, you won’t be surprised when I suggest we eat in front of the TV, right?” He lingered nearby again, this time at her back with his chin on her shoulder and his hands gentle at her hips.
She smiled, both at his sarcasm, as well as how good it felt—how right—to be doing something as simple as cooking a meal for him. Butterflies stirred in belly and she bit her lip. She’d never cooked for Reed. Or the last handful of guys that had come in and out of her life either. She knew better than to question if her lack of considerate gestures was perhaps part of the reason none had stuck around. She’d been plenty considerate—heck, she’d been more than accommodating—the men were just selfish.
Until Brody.
“In front of the TV is fine. So you don’t cook, then?” Derail those warm and fuzzies or you’ll get hurt again!
“Confession?” He brushed her hair to the side, baring her neck so he could nuzzle his lips behind her ear. “Besides grilling shit, I’m clueless. My mom’s the type that got pissed whenever someone wandered into her space.”
Shivering at the contrast of his hot mouth and the cool air, she gripped the counter with her free hand and gave into the moan of desire that rose from her chest. “If your father did this to her, I can see why.”
He chuckled lowly, his hands sliding across her abdomen, holding her tight. All the while, his mouth and tongue continued their taunting assault on her neck. The rough scrape of his stubble should’ve hurt, but instead, every scratch felt like a hundred little zaps of aroused current, hot-wiring the nerves that ran between where he touched her and her needy, neglected sex.
“I think the steak is done,” she murmured, relieved and regretful at the same time. “Hand me a plate?”
He did, but his knowing eyes sparkled down at her the whole time. That was okay, because she saw right through him, too. He thought turning her on would make her less likely to push for more about what happened at the grocery store. And maybe he was right.
She popped the pan of brownie batter into the oven and they carried their plates and drinks to the living room. Brody took one end of the couch and, hoping for space to get herself together, she took the other.
“You do realize that keeping your distance right now is pointless, don’t you?” He set his beer on the coffee table beside her glass of wine.
“I’m trying not to think about that.” That being the fact it was now after nine o’clock and the chances of her going home tonight were slim to none. She would spend the night and they both knew it. Whether she slept on the couch or shared his bed, however, still lingered, undecided, in the back of her mind.
“Did I mention the whirlpool tub in the master bath?” He stuffed a big bite of meat into his mouth and waggled his eyebrows.
Suddenly, her body ached in places she didn’t know existed...and others she’d tried to ignore. Damn him!
“I suppose you could give me a tour after we eat.” She readied a forkful of greens and sighed when the buttery goodness hit her tongue.
His focus dropped to her mouth as she chewed, so she took another bite and let her eyes flutter shut, like she was devouring a delicacy. Mostly she just wanted him to eat his, too, but part of her also like driving him insane. Maybe this game of distraction could go both ways.
“You trying make a liar out of me, sugar?”
“What do you mean?” Batting her eyes at him, she moved onto her potatoes.
“Or maybe you’re just trying to test my nobility.” Another bite of steak. “I know you’re not trying to seduce me into eating this pile of green stuff.”
“The green stuff is good for you.”
“So are you.”
Ha! Barely containing her defensive laugh, she smiled and reached for her wine. “Who’s trying to seduce who now?”
“Hey, I don’t go around saying shit like that to just anyone, so don’t try and sweep it under the rug because it makes you uncomfortable.”
“I’m not. I wasn’t—”
“Yes, sugar, that’s exactly what you’re doing.” He got up and plopped down on the cushion beside her, giving her literally no room to try and avoid the conversation. “Not enough guys have told you how friggin’ special you are and you don’t know how to deal with someone finally recognizing it.”
Crap. He was totally right and that made it a little hard to breathe, let alone think straight. What did a girl who couldn’t remember the last time a guy had made her feel like she had value beyond the bedroom do with a statement like that? What did it even mean?
“I’m not going to pretend I’ve always been the kind of guy who knows what needs to be said, because I’m not. Hell, I’m not any different than the assholes who’ve used and abused you before. I’ve done a lot of stupid shit and fucked with the heads of a lot of perfectly nice girls. But you’re different for me, and that makes me want to be different for you, too.”
“Brody...” God, she wanted that, but wasn’t it too soon? In fact, she’d spent more time thinking about him than actually being with him. She couldn’t get him out of her head and she wanted that to mean something, but it was entirely possible she’d built up a connection with him all because of that first amazing night and the fact that he’d come back. Then again...so had Reed.
“There are some things I need to tell you,” he continued on, the heaviness from before dinner falling over him once again. “Before we go any further with this.”
Ugh. Was this the part where reality came crashing in on her?
“Jenny, stop.” He reached his plate forward onto the coffee table, took hers, and did the same. “I see the wheels turning in that pretty head of yours and, if this is going to work, I need you to hear what I’m saying.”
She nodded and prayed he couldn’t feel her fingers tremble when he took her hands in his.
“This isn’t easy for me either. I’m scared as fuck that, any second now, you’re gonna see me for what I really am and high tail it out of here without looking back.”
“I’m not,” she whispered.
“And I hope that’s true, because having you in my life is the best damn thing that’s happened to me.” He lifted the back of her hand to his mouth and brushed his lips across her skin. Goose bumps raced up her arm. “But there are things I need to say that might make you look at me differently. Things I don’t normally talk about.”
“I don’t expect you to be perfect,” she said gently. “I appreciate that you don’t expect me to be either.”
He nodded as the timer for the oven went off. “Let’s grab dessert, clean up, and take this conversation to the whirlpool.”
“Ah, but I didn’t bring a suit.”
“Like that matters? Hell, the more naked you are, the longer it’ll take you to get away. Trust me, I’ve already got this planned out.” He winked and pulled her to feet.