Her body reacted as though physically caressed, tingling and aching in her most intimate places. Heat flash? Maybe. Probably.
“Good morning,” he said, his voice a husky rasp just as sexy as the rest of him.
“Morning.” She gulped and wiped her hands on the side of her wrinkled shorts. Don’t gawk at his chest. Certainly don’t glance lower. “My phone. My keys. Shoes.” Making words should not be this difficult. “Do you know where they are?” Better.
“Phone and keys are in the kitchen. Shoes are in your car.”
She must have been too focused on the noise—and then the food—to notice the phone and keys. “Well, then. Thank you. For everything,” she added, only to hesitate. “But, uh...I’m a little confused about why you didn’t just take Jessie Kay and me to our home.”
“Two reasons.” He set the hammer aside. “I didn’t have permission to enter your residence, and Jessie Kay had had too much to drink. She needed to be monitored, so...” He shrugged.
So he’d acted like the gentleman he’d once claimed he wasn’t. “Well, thank you. Again,” she said and turned to retreat inside. Only then, with her gaze off him and a little distance between them, was she able to breathe.
How did he affect her so strongly? And how could she make it stop?
“You didn’t eat,” he said, coming in behind her.
Her eyes widened as she rounded on him, her breath hitching when she discovered he was close enough to touch. Close enough to press against, male hardness to female softness, if only she leaned forward the slightest...little...bit. No! Bad Brook Lynn! Bad!
Then his words hit her. “That feast is for me?”
His nod was slow, and his gaze hot on her, as if he’d sensed the direction of her thoughts. “Your sister, too.”
Needing no further encouragement, she sat at the table and dug in, soon caught up in a whirlwind of different tastes and textures, moaning with rapturous delight. Yes, she would have added a few other spices to take the flavor to a whole new level, but all in all the meal rocked her socks.
When she finished, she dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. Oh, now I’m ladylike? She looked up to find Jase had removed his sunglasses, but hadn’t pulled on a shirt...and he was staring at her as intently as she’d stared at him. It was disconcerting. Especially since his features were blank, and she couldn’t read him.
A blush burned her cheeks, and she cleared her throat. “Don’t judge me.” Or my new food baby.
He arched a brow. “Is that what I was doing?”
Surely. “Well.” She cleared her throat again. “Anyway. My compliments to the chef.”
“That would be Beck.”
Never would she have guessed the pretty boy had a skill that didn’t involve a mattress and a panting partner. “Did he train at the Institute of Divine Cuisine and Hellish Addiction?” Jessie Kay had often accused Brook Lynn of sneaking into classes.
“More like the Institute of That Was Fun, But Now It’s Time for You to Go.”
Nice. “You guys and your one-night stands,” she said and rolled her eyes.
“Is that judgment I hear, angel?”
Angel? The endearment proved a thousand times more personal and tantalizing than “honey,” shocking her to the core. Of course, he’d meant nothing by it. She figured he probably used the words interchangeably with every female he encountered—even with her sister. But...
I’m still reeling.
“No judgment,” she said and stood. “And now it’s time for me to jet.” Before I do or say something more stupid. “I’m late for work, so...this is goodbye.”
His gaze still locked on her, he stepped closer to her, too close for comfort. She should have backed up, if only out of a sense of propriety, but she remained in place. He crossed his arms over his massive chest, those green eyes heating, burning. A sign of...arousal?
The provocative scent of him filled the air between them; it was masculine, sultry and heady, and it fogged her thoughts. It must have. Why else would she have continued to gaze up at him instead of running away?
“Jase?”