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“Are you sure that’s the only thing that has you tired?” Gideon asked.
Brax frowned. “What’s with all the questions?”
“Just wondering if Jenny is tired this morning, too.”
“Don’t tell me you geniuses have a bet going on as to when we’ll sleep together. That’s just wrong.”
“Seems to me you won the bet about Ryker and Amy, so I don’t know why you’re bitching. Now spill.”
“A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell. Now why are you calling?”
“Jada and I want to come over. We have some information and some questions for Jenny.”
“Tell me first.”
“Jada won’t let me. She tracked down a lot of it, based on information that Jenny gave her last night.”
“What did Jenny tell Jada?”
“Just tell me, are we good to come over, or not?”
Brax rubbed his stubbled chin. “Yeah. It’s good. But give us a half hour.”
“That’s how long it will take for us to get there, so you’re good.”
Brax hung up and grabbed the same pair of jeans he wore last night and yanked them on. It was time to find out what Jenny had been up to before he’d found her stealing chocolate from his pantry.
As soon as he opened the bedroom door, heavenly smells hit him. What in the hell were they?
“Jenny?”
“I’m in the kitchen.”
“I figured that,” he mumbled to himself.
When he got to the kitchen, he saw her in the process of taking one casserole pan out of the oven and putting another one in. She was doing it at the same time, one in each hand. He winced. He stopped short and didn’t say a word so that she wouldn’t drop one.
When she made the switch and closed the oven door with her hip, he spoke up.
“What in the hell do you think you are doing?”
She looked over her shoulder at him. “Cooking.”
“How about doing it a little more carefully. You could have easily dropped one of those pans, and if it was the hot one, you would have been badly burned.”
Jenny rolled her eyes. “Hold on there, Mr. SEAL, I’ve been cooking for myself since I was sixteen. I know what I’m doing. I’m a big girl.”
“You’re a big girl with cracked ribs. Are you even wearing your bandage?”
She bit her inner lip. “You know, you’re a lot less adorable when you’re being overbearing. I’ll grant you the bitching about the bandage, but cut it out about the pans. I know what I’m doing.”
“When you’re injured and not at full strength?” he asked in a softer tone of voice. He knew he’d blown it charging in like an asshole, but she’d scared him.
She blew the hair out of her face. “I see your point,” she admitted. “But I don’t appreciate the delivery.”
He walked into the kitchen and brushed his knuckles over her flushed cheek, happy when she leaned into the caress. “I’m sorry, Jenny. You scared me. I don’t like the idea of you being injured.”
“Okay, I can see that. And you’re probably right. I’ll take it easier.”
