19
Ididn't get a chance to talk to Brody on the drive home about his efforts to control me during the dinner with his parents. He had to drop me off at my house with nothing but a quick kiss just inside my front door.
By the time he called me just before bed, I'd calmed down enough that our conversation was actually civil. And he agreed not to do that again.
It was strange to be completely honest with the guy I was dating and not have it turn into a fight. He listened to what I had to say and apologized.
Let me repeat that for the cheap seats.
He. Apologized.
Maybe Sierra was right and I'd spent too much time dating immature little boys rather than grown men.
Or maybe things were just different with Broderick Murphy because he was Brody, the same boy I'd loved since I was eight and who'd grown into a fine man.
I knew my time with Brody would be limited during the week because he wanted to spend as much one-on-one time as possible with Jacks before she left to spend two weeks with her mother. That lasted two whole days before they showed up at Crave.
Apparently, Jacks missed me.
Thursday night, we all made dinner together and watched the first Harry Potter movie. Jacks and Brody had finished the book, so she was eager to see the movie.
I was able to take the night off because we had hired Lee Prescott on the spot when she showed up for her interview. Well, at the end of the interview anyway. We were desperate, but Sierra and I realized right away what a gem Lyria Prescott was.
Figures that Natalie Phelps was right about who we needed.
I was also taking Friday night off to do my job as distraction. Lee had only been training for a week but she was a damn quick study. Plus Sierra would be helping her out.
I wasn't going to Brody's house with seduction in mind. I brought burgers and curly fries from the local shack. I also brought a couple of bags filled with movie snacks, ice cream, sodas, and DVDs.
At six sharp, I rang the doorbell and waited. And waited. I beat my fist against the door. Still nothing.
Finally, I dug my phone out of my purse and called him. "Hey, Brody. Whatcha doin'?"
"Strange you should ask. I was just knocking on your door."
"Hmmm. Well, I didn't hear anything. Probably because I'm at your house, knocking onyourfront door."
Brody laughed. "This is what happens when I don't make concrete plans with you."
"Think you can get home pretty quick? The ice cream's gonna melt."
"You could come home," he suggested.
"You want me to haul five bags of food back out to my car and all the way home?"
"Good point. I'll be there in a few minutes."
He hung up without saying good-bye and I laughed to myself. Approximately six minutes later, Brody's SUV turned into the driveway and he pulled around the house to the garage. I'd just finished picking up the last bag when the front door opened and he reached out to take them from me.
"Here, let me take—"
I handed him three and then carried the other two past him inside.
"The ice cream will need an hour or so in the fridge to firm back up, but it's hot enough out there that the burgers are probably still warm," I said as I made a beeline for his fridge.
Once I had the ice cream in the freezer drawer and the sodas on a shelf inside the door, I went to the sink and washed my hands.
Brody was smiling at me when I turned around. A big, goofy grin that I'd never seen on his face before.
