Page 14 of Babydoll

I push air out of my mouth in a rude sound. Knowing he has the upper hand now, I look at my feet instead of him or the damn pudding still in his hand. “I don’t care if you have a girlfriend or a wife,” I murmur.

“So what do you call me?” he prompts.

“SSD.” I grumble it.

“SSD?”

I sigh, forcefully, eyeing him impatiently. “Sexy Security Dude.” My words are loud and clear this time and loaded with contempt. “It’s not a compliment,” I add, disgruntled.

He laughs. “Uh, hell yes, it is.”

“Pfft, nah, sexy people are only good for one thing.”

He nods with that stupid grin on his face. “Sure. I’m definitely good for that.”

The wash of heat his words cause have me grinding out my next few sentences.

“Whatever, now you’re Grizzly Jeff anyway. And clearly, Grizzly Jeff is brainless because who puts something they hate in their lunch daily?”

“My niece puts the pudding in my lunch.” He reaches forward, grabs my hand, and slaps the cup in it. “She’s four and loves pudding. Especially?—”

I blink first at the pudding cup in my hand and then at him and finally, I finish his sentence.

“Butterscotch.”

A smile splits his handsome face and my heart flips.

“Right. I guess since you’re the Pudding Pilferer you’d know that.”

“The pudding… what?”

He cuts me off, shrugging his deliciously wide shoulders. “That’s what she calls you.”

My brows shoot up. “She calls me the Pudding Pilferer? She knows someone steals your pudding every night?”

He nods.

“So why?—?”

He sighs. “At first it was because she wanted to share her favorite thing with her favorite uncle.” His eyes harden, warning me not to comment. “But then it was because the person who steals my pudding must need it more than I do, or they love it as much as she does and that makes the Pudding Pilferer her kindred spirit. And yes, she actually uses the words kindred spirit and pilferer.”

He shakes his head. “My mother reads to her a lot. And in my opinion, above her level.”

He smiles fondly a moment, as if picturing his mother and the young child and then adds, “She says, ‘please don’t be mad at my kindred spirit, Uncle Jeff.’ And who can argue with an angel with big blue eyes?” He looks up and stares as if just noticing my blue eyes which I know look huge because of my too-thin face.

“But you are mad,” I accuse, but it comes out in a gentle whisper as I’m ensnared in his soft look. I give my head a small shake and clear my throat, speaking more succinctly. “According to your note I’m a jackass,” I say with a laugh. “That reminds me.” I reach into my pocket and pull out the note from today.

He groans. “Just enjoy the damn pudding.” He pulls out one of the chairs at the table and his eyes motion to the seat. “Sit. When I wrote that first note I thought it was Tony stealing my lunch. He is not my niece’s kindred spirit. And he is one hundred percent jackass.” He looks at the paper in my hand and attempts to snatch it back. I shove it down my top.

Turning the pudding in my hand, I stare at him, daring him to fish for it. “Tony is a jackass. He gossips like a retiree at bridge club and thinks he knows everything. Everything. Reading one article on some obscure scientific topic does not an expert make.”

He laughs and the sound is almost as delectable as his growl. And because it is, I toss the pudding back at him. “I don’t want your pudding.”

Grizzly Jeff catches the pudding easily, but his jaw ticks.

“I can be a dick, Lu.” He chuffs impatiently just like a bear. “I can turn you in to management or you can damn well sit your ass down and eat.” He presses his lips in a no-nonsense line and puts the pudding down on the table.

“Your choice.”

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