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“Lass, who told ya if not twigs?”
“Jamie.”
“Feckingnugget. Perceptive nugget. Jamie’s the shy one. Sometimes I forget Lachlan, Rory, and Jake are younger. How’d ya get Jamie to open up? He’s mam’s . . . favorite bairn.”
How did I?Although lanky, Jamie’s shaping up to be the tallest MacKenzie. I smile at Brody’s statement that Jamie’s Nan’s favorite. Leith called Camdyn her favored one. It’s all good-hearted jealousy and love. But Jamie seems different. I heft a shoulder. “Jamie and I weren’t exactly carrying on a conversation. He just said his family’s very close and would support me.”
Brody’s eyebrows rise.
“Our convo was a handful of words or less. I almost felt like he perceived the hoops Marcus has made me jump through all these years. He seems observant. Like he can really see things, you know?” I pick at the donut, leaving the pinch of sugary goodness on the napkin. “Look, I’m not family, Brody. You guys seem to be dealing with something. Leith and Chevelle were looking at million-dollar homes—virtually—this morning. Because their other million dol—”
“Leith’s money is clean money.”
“That’s not what I’m saying, Brody.” I settle back into the fake red leather seat. “You’re all clearly busy with other things. Still, you, for some odd reason, are helping me.”
Brody lifts one of his huge shoulders. “Is this the part where ye fecking ask me am I keeping a tally of how ye will pay?”
Though I’m wondering if my dejected demeanor is that evident, I retort, “I don’t know. Is it?”
Brody points a fry at me. “Is ye leaving meant as some sort of reverse psychology shite? Should I threaten to cuff ye in my basement, eh?”
I laugh.
“Eat. It’s good?”
“Pretty good.” I groan, sliding a plate with a perfectly balanced BLT in front of me. “I was losing weight before you, Brody.”
“Yeah?”
“Yup. I cut out all midnight snacks.”
“Who said that was a good thing? Not me. Second, this ain’t the type of midnight snack I want from ye.”
I cleave my bottom lip. Well played. At least I know he’s feeling me.
“Reverse psychology.” Brody nods.
“Since we’re at a mock interview, my turn for questions.”
The massive surface of his chest lifts slowly. My palms itch to sweep across the chiseled area of him, but I lack nerve. Nor would I have the audacity to touch him and stop there.
“When we met, you were either tight-lipped or talking dirty.”
“Aye. That’s yer question. My turn again.”
I toss a fry at him. “Hey, not fair.”
“Life’s not fair.”
I may second guess Brody’s feelings, but he’s penetrated my defenses. It might have been during his quest for ass. Hell, I should’ve nipped his antics in the bud on day one. But I’m vulnerable. Misery loves company, and my weakness searches out his weakness for me. “What’s made you so guarded, Brody?”
