“Good. I hear that it can take a few cocktails before they get the right mixture.”
After a few minutes of letting the cookies cool, I scooped them onto a plate and brought them back to the counter. Something felt right about being in his condo, having a normal conversation. I talked with Zoey all the time, but sharing things about my life with Brogan felt…special. When I was ready to get back on the dating horse, I’d want the guy to be like Brogan. Smart, successful, sexy as hell. Yes, that killer combo would be the death of me. No other guy seemed to even be on the same playing field as him.
I cleared my throat, extinguishing those thoughts. They wouldn’t help in my already pitiful dating life. “Seems like you know a lot about cancer.”
He shrugged. “I may have done some research after you left the other night.” Brogan grabbed a cookie off the plate and took a tentative bite. His eyes closed and he moaned, and my mouth suddenly went dry. His lashes fanned over the tops of his cheeks as he squeezed his eyes shut, and my heart went sideways in my chest. I’d give up ice cream for a year to hear that sound come out of his mouth again. “Holy shit. These are amazing.”
“I told you—blue ribbon cookies reign supreme.”
I took a bite of cookie, keeping my mouth busy because, holy crap. He’d done research. Because of something affecting my life. If my mouth wasn’t full of chocolate chips, I’d probably say something like could you be any more perfect? Or, please keep making those cookie moaning sounds.
“You got a little something…” He swept his thumb over the corner of my mouth. “Right here.” He brought his thumb to his lips and sucked the chocolate off his finger.
A sound, something between a gasp and a deflating balloon, came out of my mouth. My pulse kicked up to a strong gallop, hammering against my temples. Heat radiated through the space between my thighs, and words drained from my mind. Not a single coherent thought formed as I watched his finger edge along the seam of his mouth.
I stared at his bottom lip and the stubble that ran across his chin. My tongue ran across my lips. If I leaned over a few inches, my lips would sweep across his. I gripped the counter, not trusting my hands to keep to themselves.
Before I made a complete fool out of myself, I pushed back from the counter and began piling dishes into his sink. “I’d better clean up.”
Looking around the high-end kitchen, the thought of me and Brogan existing together in the house was a joke.
I hadn’t grown up wealthy. Everything I needed, I had, but there were no extraneous gadgets, definitely not a dishwasher or a fridge that talked to me. Brogan and I came from two opposite ends of the spectrum. He had a maid that did his laundry and dusted his immaculate house. I had week-old soda cans scattered on my nightstand and managed to throw a load of clothes in the washer when the bra and panty situation was at Code Red. The thought of him setting foot in my mom’s nineteen-fifties bungalow was almost laughable. Two people from two separate worlds had no place being together. Not that I was even considering this. I was there as his dog walker and second assistant, purely in a professional capacity.
That didn’t derail the incessant crash of my heart against my ribs. Or the fact that I had the worst case of sweaty palms I’d ever experienced in my life. And that was saying something, because teenage Lainey had palms sweaty enough for it to be considered a chronic disease.
“I was just about to sit down and watch some Netflix after I finished up my paperwork. Do you want to join?” He motioned toward the couch where Bruce was currently belly-up, snoring.
I hesitated. Everything in me yelled, Yes! I want to Netflix and chill with you so hard. But I had the proposal to work on for the Gizarra account and the slime of a twelve-hour work day to wash off. “I should really be going.”
“Oh.” His lips turned into a pout which was almost as adorable as his dimples. “Well, at least let my driver take you home.”
I waved him off. “It’s no big deal. I can take the light rail.”
“Listen, I’m not in charge of you—” A devious smile twisted his lips, and his eyes brightened. “Wait, yes I am.” He scrubbed his chin and regarded me. “And as your boss, I’m giving you direct orders to use my driver.”
I rolled my eyes. “Anything else I can do for you, boss?” I made an exaggerated curtsy.
“Take some cookies with you. I can’t possibly eat this many.” He motioned toward the dozens of cookies spread on cooling racks along the counter.
Now that was something that I could get behind. “Okay. I’m sure my roommate will appreciate that.” No way was Zoey getting any of these.
We stood in the doorway for a few moments. I made the mistake of glancing up at Brogan’s face. More specific, his eyes. Those brown eyes raked down my body with a heat I wasn’t prepared for.