Page 39 of The Billionaire Experience

“Calling a PI seemed like an overstep.” He offered an almost bashful smile. Since he’d talked so candidly about his childhood today, she’d seen a different side of him.

“Sorry to bust in on you so late. If I hadn’t left my wallet, I would have gone to Kelly’s instead of bothering you.” Her stomach roared and she was certain he’d heard it.

“Never a bother. Sounds like you’re hungry.”

“Starving. I was choosing from an entire screen of tacos when I noticed I had no money.”

“I made chicken parmigiana for dinner. Want some?”

“You, who can’t bake a frozen pizza, made chicken parmigiana?”

“I couldn’t write after you left. I had to do something. Come in.”

After a piece of chicken parmigiana and a side of buttery orzo pasta that was nothing short of heavenly, she leaned back in the kitchen chair and sighed. “That was so much better than tacos.”

“You gotta take better care of yourself.” He glanced down at her bare feet. She’d taken off her wet socks and shoes when she’d entered the house. “Want a pair of socks?”

“I need a shower.”

“I have a shower.” Heat infused the air between them. He didn’t take his eyes off her, which had her visualizing stepping into the shower with him.

She tucked one foot beneath her leg and changed the subject before she did something insane…like accept his offer. “How do you know how to make chicken parmigiana?”

He spun his beer bottle while he spoke. “One of my jobs while writing Billionaire on the Run was at a quaint Italian restaurant. The couple who owned it made incredible food. Plus, I’ve had countless meals in Rome. Learned by osmosis, I guess.”

“Rome. I should have known.” She snorted.

“You should have. The couple took me in like a son—or a stray.” He raised one eyebrow at that bit of self-deprecating humor, which made her smile. “They also taught me a thing or two in the kitchen.”

“Chicken parmigiana.”

“And Bolognese that would make you weep.”

Brody might be the first guy who’d cooked for her—not counting her grandfather’s grilled cheese sandwiches. Dustin had been the king of takeout. “I’m impressed. And grateful. I didn’t intend on dropping by at nine thirty at night and begging for food. All the same, I appreciate the meal.” She hid a yawn behind her forearm, the carbs she’d eaten weighing down her eyelids.

“How far away does Kelly live?”

“Twenty-five minutes unless there’s traffic. Unless I stay with—” She caught herself before she mentioned Ike’s name. She should have told Brody the truth to begin with. Now she was keeping secrets from him, which was ridiculous. “Jean.”

“Her light’s been out for an hour.” He stood. “Sleep here. You can borrow one of my T-shirts in addition to my socks. I can’t have my handywoman on the street.”

She was already shaking her head.

“It’s not a big deal. You can call Kelly and let her know where you are in case I turn out to be a crazed serial killer.”

“I’m not worried for my safety. Unless your sister comes home and finds me here. Her, I’m a little afraid of.”

He smiled, pleased either by her considering staying the night or her assessment of Jaylyn Crane. “My sister has procured an apartment in the city, and her furniture was delivered this morning. Guest room is open. I washed the bedding today instead of writing.”

Reagan let out a tired chuckle. “You are a master procrastinator.”

“Organized the spice cabinet too.”

She didn’t know if he was kidding, but that was beside the point. Her gaze strayed to the kitchen window where her haggard reflection stared back at her. If she did return to Kelly’s there was no way to know what sort of mood her friend would be in. Would she want to vent about her workday or binge Real Housewives over a bottle of wine? Reagan was too tired for either option.

“Just say yes,” he told her. “I can’t tell you how many people asked me to go home with them when I didn’t know where I’d sleep.” He quickly added, “Not in a sexual way. Also not what I’m offering.” He bit down on his bottom lip which made him look like a younger version of himself. She’d bet he’d been a complete heartbreaker as a teenager. “Unless you want to. In which case I’m wide open.”

She emitted a tired laugh.

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