Jenny giggled and, to his disappointment, shimmied out of his arms. “You must be Sam,” she said, offering the asshole her hand. “I’m Jenny Riley. I’ve seen you in River Bend before, right?”

“Not I, ma’ lady.” He bowed his head with a flourish and kissed her knuckles. “You’re probably thinking about the guy who walked around the pub with his wanger hanging out. That was most definitely not me.”

Brody snorted. “Get your skeevy lips off my girl and grab the rest of the beer from the fridge, will ya?”

Walking backwards into the kitchen, Sam threw a single-finger salute and Jenny laughed again.

“I totally remember that night. I wish I didn’t, but unfortunately that’s not something you really forget.”

“Don’t worry—he only whips it out when he’s got at least a dozen spectators.”

“So we’re good as long as no one else comes over. Whew!” She winked and he tangled his fingers with hers, nodding toward the basement and the den-turned-man cave. “Ready for a little therapy a la the Kansas City Royals?”

She winked. “You mean therapy a la Alex.”

Kissed like an angel and a Gordon fan? Ah, hell.

***

Watching men interact with one another in their natural element was almost as entertaining as a Will Ferrell movie. Come to think of it, it was like Stepbrothers come to life, in Brody’s suburban Nebraska rec room.

While Brody tried to be conscious of her presence, shooting her apologetic faces from time to time, the effort was lost on Sam and Ty’s unbarred behavior. Farts, burps, talk about sports, and, of course, a very colored discussion about which combination of Victoria’s Secret models they’d most like to take on for a three-way.

By the time the game ended—and the Royals won their spring training opener—she felt like she needed a shower...and maybe a trip to the confessional.

“Hopefully we haven’t made you second-guess what you’re doing with Nelson,” Ty said as he stood in the front hallway, saying his goodbyes.

Jenny shot Brody a contemplative look. “Hmm, now that you’ve mentioned it...”

Sam chuckled, coming from the bathroom with his arms above his head, stretching. “So all the work I put into strategically hiding that camera in the shower was for nothing? Dammit all to hell.”

Brody grinned, the knowing twinkle in his eyes stirring a guilty ache in her stomach. His friends thought they were sleeping together. They probably even thought that the lock would flip as soon as they left, so she and Brody could pick up where they left off earlier.

Only, the two of them knew that wasn’t the case. At least...she hoped they were on the same page.

Then again, she was at his house on a Saturday evening, a solid four hours from home.

The guys gone, she turned a sheepish smile his way, completely unsure where they went from here. Did she play it safe and say goodbye, too? God, she didn’t want to. But if she stayed, he might...expect things.

More crappy planning, Jenn. Way to work it.

“Come here and tell me why you look like you’re ready to bolt.” From his perch on back of the couch, he crooked a finger at her and her heart began to pound like a freight train in her chest. She’d totally screwed this up, hadn’t she? “I hope it’s not because they’re disgusting pigs.”

“No.” She bit her lip and shook her head. “I grew up with the River Bend boys. I’m pretty acclimated to the locker room talk.”

He pushed off the sofa smiling softly and came to her instead, one slow, sock-clad foot at a time, hooked a finger under her chin and lifted her face to his. There wasn’t a thing she could do to hide the panic she was sure he could see in her eyes. “I’m not going to pounce on you, sugar. At least not unless you ask.”

“I’m not worried about that.” Mostly. “I just...I was so excited to see you that I didn’t think this through. I’m not ready to go, but I’m not sure you want me to stay either. If you do...” She paused to swallow. “And I stay, it’s either going to be a late night driving home or...”

“Or what?” He smoothed the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip, so at ease while she stood in his arms, twitching like a live wire. “You spend the night so I don’t have to worry about you traveling this time?”

“Brody...” Laughing softly, she put her hands to his chest, fingers splayed wide over the solid wall of muscle filling out his t-shirt. “What are we doing? Is this...anything? Are we, like, seeing each other or is this something else altogether?”

His thumb rose to her cheekbone, his touch just as gentle. “Define something else.”

Say it. You’re a grown woman, not a naive virgin. “Sex. Are we just building up to sex?”

His gaze flicked to hers and his jaw ticked beneath his stubble. “Not gonna lie—I hope we get naked at some point soon. Hell, I’ve been walking around for weeks with a perpetual hard-on, just thinking about how good it’s gonna feel to finally be inside you.” His hand stilled and he sighed. “But I’m a little out of my element with the rest of this. This seeing each other stuff. I don’t date, Jenn. I haven’t in years.”

“Oh.” So the afternoon of fishing...that was just two friends hanging out. Not any different than this afternoon with Sam and Ty. “I’m glad we cleared that up.” I’m probably going to cry the second I’m alone, but hey, now I know.

“Me, too. I should’ve said something sooner, so you’d understand why I’m pretty much a fuck-up at this dating thing, but the truth is...I can’t stop thinking about you. Then you called...” He gave his head a shake and he reminded her of the first boy who’d picked her at the front door. Nervous and determined at the same time. “I know you live on the other side of the state and the technical shit is gonna be hard to work out, but I don’t want this to be the only time you drop in. I kinda like how you look in my space.”

Wait... “What? But you just said...” she fumbled, hope rising through her only-moments-old disappointment.

“Let’s give this dating thing a shot.” He flashed a smile...and then quickly frowned, self-consciousness flaring once again. “I mean, if that’s what you want. Maybe I’m making assumptions—”

Umph! She jumped up, wrapped her arms around his neck, and her legs around his hips.

“Assume away, Superman.”

Chapter Eleven

“Are you sure about this? We could hit Midtown in ten minutes and have someone else do the cooking for us. Clean up, too.” Brody glanced reluctantly at the grocery store, closing the passenger door of his truck after Jenny slid out.

“I’m positive. Besides, this is way more fun.” She tangled her hand with his and tugged him toward the store. “Trust me, okay?”

“That’s usually my line.”

She stuck her tongue out over her shoulder and he had to practically sprint to keep up with her as she grabbed a cart and sped around the eerily quiet store like Danica Patrick on a NASCAR track. He usually did his shopping right after work, so this nighttime endeavor—with her—was doubly strange. And oddly comfortable.

Jenny tossed in way more leafy green vegetables than he’d eaten in the last month, maybe two, and he got a little nervous. Until she added not one, but two thick, juicy steaks...and a bottle of red wine. Definitely his kind of woman.

“How about dessert?” She stared at the long row of baking supplies, tapping a finger against her lip, like she was serious. Then he realized she was.

“You’re going to bake?” In his oven? Hell, did it even work? Were there dirty dishes tucked inside it? He couldn’t remember...

“I love to bake,” she sighed, pulling a box of brownie mix from the shelf. “And just for the record, this doesn’t count. This boxed stuff is cheating, but we don’t have time for scratch baked goods, so we’ll have to compromise.” Into the cart the box went. Followed by a small container of oil. “Just need some eggs and ice cream.”