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, for the last eight years, I’ve been getting cookies from my grandmother. Except they weren’t from her.”
“Did she say they were?” Genna asked, moving the cooled cookies to a rack before turning back to whatever other delicious concoction she was whipping up.
“Nope. Not once did she say, ‘Brody, I made these cookies myself,’” he acknowledged. “But neither did she ever mention they were from someone else.”
He waited a beat while Genna poured white batter into what looked like small pie tins.
“Any idea what’s behind the covert cookie care package?” he asked as soon as she set the bowl down.
“Maybe you should ask her,” Genna said, leaning forward so her hair swung down, hiding her face as she arranged the tins in a pan of shallow water.
“I’m asking you.”
Genna slid the tray into the oven, then with a sigh deep enough to do interesting things to her apron ruffles, she faced him with a shrug. Her shoulders hunched and she dropped her chin to her chest.
“I made the cookies,” she confessed with more guilt than most insurgents he’d watched be interrogated.
“No! Really?”
Some of the shame faded as her lips twitched. But the odd look didn’t leave her eyes. Like she was hiding something still. Something ugly. What? Since he hadn’t dropped dead, he knew she hadn’t poisoned the cookies.
“Why?” he asked. When she pressed her lips together, he shook his head. “C’mon. Why would you send cookies all that time through my gramma? How’d you get her to go along with it? She’s not known for keeping secrets, but she never hinted. Even when I thanked her to her face for the treats and told her how much the guys loved them.”
“She told me that,” Genna said softly. He assumed her affectionate smile was for his grandmother. Then, after giving him a long look and probably realizing he wasn’t going to give it up, she lifted both hands in the air.
“Look, it’s no big deal. I’d just moved in here and was going around meeting the neighbors. I took Irene cookies and when I realized how lonely she was, I started taking them by each week. She mentioned once that you’d loved cookies when you were a little boy. So I gave her extras. What she did with the extras was totally up to her.”
There was more to it than that. But Genna had that stubborn tilt going with her chin, so he knew he wouldn’t get the rest of the story. Yet.
Just as well.
The idea of her sending him cookies, of her thinking about him every single month for the last eight years. That did something to him. A warmth Brody had never felt spread through him, soft and gentle. Probably heartburn from eating so many sweets on an empty stomach, he told himself.
Still, better to drop the subject than risk feeding that feeling.
“So, seriously. What’s with all the food? Is that what you do when you aren’t playing messenger for the mayor? You have a bakery?”
“No. And I’m not the mayor’s messenger. I’m the community liaison. I work with the various businesses and organizations on things like outreach, civic issues, beautification and events.” She looked around the room and must have noticed there was three square inches of counter space available, so she pulled out a big bowl and started gathering ingredients.
“That’s your real job? I thought it was something you did like volunteering. You know, being a good citizen and all.” He grabbed a muffin, figuring if she was baking something else she could use the room.
“Why are you here again?” she asked, lifting her chin and giving him as cool look. “You just wanted to visit because my father put me on the off-limits list? Or did you get lonely there in that tiny house all by yourself with
