Introduction To Romance (10 Books). Кэрол Мортимер

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 nobody to insult?”

      Brody grinned. He loved her claws.

      But she had a point.

      And while he wasn’t big on apologies, he did owe her something after the way he’d treated her before. He looked at the muffin in his hand and grimaced. He hated explaining himself. Especially when he didn’t really understand why he was here. Just that he’d needed to see her.

      “I didn’t realize how hard things might be for you,” he said slowly. When she frowned and shook her head in confusion, he clarified. “Here, after. I figured you’d skate through, you know? Pampered princess and all that.”

      She pulled a weird spoon thing made up of wires out of a drawer, running it through her hands as she considered his words.

      “After? You mean when my father shanghaied you into the navy?”

      Brody almost choked on his muffin laughing.

      “Yeah. After that.” Leave it to Genna to tell it like it was.

      “I’m pretty sure you’re the only person in the world who thinks I’m a pampered princess,” she said, rolling her eyes and ignoring the rest of his words.

      So. She didn’t want to talk about what it’d been like.

      Too bad. Brody did.

      “What happened? I thought you were going to some fancy college. Didn’t Joe say you’d gotten into Stanford?” Not that Joe bragged about his sister. If Brody remembered correctly, Joe’d been bitching that Genna’s accomplishments were putting pressure on him. Apparently their parents were starting to nag that he get off his ass and do something with his life.

      Genna pressed her lips together, all of her attention on the milky sugar mixture she was stirring with that weird spoon. After a few seconds, she shrugged.

      “That didn’t work out. I ended up staying here and did the community college thing instead.”

      Maybe it was because all he’d ever wanted to do was get the hell out of Bedford, but Brody just wasn’t buying that she’d given up so easily on leaving.

      Or maybe it was the way she refused to look at him.

      Deciding this was going to take a while and he might as well be comfortable, he pulled out one of the ladder-back chairs, turned it backward and straddled it.

      “Comfy?” she asked, the sarcasm as thick as the cream she was stirring.

      “I could use something to drink,” Brody responded. “But otherwise, thanks, I’m pretty comfortable.”

      After a long look, she walked over to the sink, took a glass out of the cabinet and filled it with tap water. Since it gave Brody a great view of her butt, he couldn’t complain. Except that he wasn’t here to look at her butt, he reminded himself. He was here to find out what the hell had happened to her life after he’d left.

      “You didn’t get to go to Stanford because of what happened between us?” he guessed, watching her face closely. “Was that your punishment for getting too close to a bad influence?”

      She sighed, looking defeated for the first time he’d ever seen. Her entire being, face, body and spirit, seemed to sag.

      “Do you blame me for your impromptu commitment to the military?” she asked, sidestepping his question. Again.

      “No.” For a couple of years, he’d wanted to. But he’d never quite been able to justify it as fair.

      “Then you shouldn’t have any trouble understanding that I don’t blame you for my parents going off the deep end with the overprotective control issues.”

      “What happened?” Brody was as surprised at his words as Genna seemed to be. He never asked questions like that. He always figured people overshared anyway, so why encourage more? But all of a sudden, with Genna, he wanted to know everything.

      Maybe he was suffering delayed reactions from his injuries. Or was in desperate need of a distraction from the upcoming therapy and return to base. But he couldn’t let it go. He had to know what had happened.

      The buzzer chimed just then and she slid a thick mitten on her hand to pull out the little cake things she’d put in earlier. She touched the tops, added more water to the