and winced―7:00 p.m.? Pissed off, miserable and frustrated made for an exhausting cocktail.
She stepped back into the kitchen and looked around.
It did look like she was stocking a bakery with goods.
Maybe she could set up a stand in the front yard. Three cookies for a dollar. A few hundred dozen and she might have enough money to afford a sheriff-approved storefront.
Playing with that dream, a nice distraction from her earlier thoughts, Genna returned to building her cheesecake crust. Butter, graham crackers, ground almonds. All yummy goodness.
She was entertaining the mental debate over decorating her dream bakery in modern teal and brown, or going with a fun black-and-pink palette when there was a rap at her back door. Loud enough to make her jump and almost drop the cream cheese. Her heart pounding just as loud now, she shifted to the side of the kitchen to look out the window.
Brody?
She blinked, moved closer to the window in case the porch light was casting illusions, then looked again.
Tall, sexy and gorgeous. Yep, that was Brody all right.
She scowled. What did he want?
She debated for all of three seconds before checking to see that the lock was engaged, then jaw set, took the cream cheese back to the mixer. When the knock came again, she flipped the mixer on high to drown it out.
“It’s usually better to hide in another room if you’re pretending not to be there when someone knocks.”
Genna jumped, but managed to contain her scream. She was so proud, she gave herself a couple seconds for her heart to slow again before turning off the mixer. Had he learned lock-picking in SEAL school? Or was that a leftover from his badass days? Pasting on her most distant expression, she tossed a cool expression over her shoulder.
“It’s usually better to take the hint. When someone doesn’t answer the door it means they don’t want to see you.”
“I’ve never been good with subtleties.”
No question about that. Brody and subtle didn’t even belong in the same sentence. Genna pulled her gaze back to the creamy mixture in her bowl, wishing he didn’t look so good. A quick glance told her he’d lost some of that pallor, the crisp evening air and scent of the outdoors adding to the healthy impression.
Too 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
