Page 22 of Accidentally Checked By My Brother's Best Friend

“It was nothing, Ava.” Goosebumps cover my flesh as he says my name. “I’m glad I could help.”

“It wasn’t nothing, Duncan,” I whisper, overwhelmed by how out of control my life has become. “And now you’re caught up in the drama. I’m so sorry. I didn’t think this would happen when I broke up with Nathan.”

“Nathan has always been about what’s good for Nathan. You breaking up with him wasn’t good for him. I’m not surprised at his response.” He crosses his arms and leans against the door frame, putting his apron in focus once more, and I can’t help but chuckle again.

“Guess there were things that others saw that I didn’t.” When I meet his gaze this time, the guarded expression I’ve come to expect from Duncan is back. I push past the lump in my throat. “Anyway. Thank you.”

He nods stiffly, keeping his expression cool.

Rubbing my palms against my pants, I work to find the words to bring up the fake dating when I notice a black haze coming from the kitchen. “Is something burning?”

“Oh bugger!” Turning away, he runs back into the house. Crossing the threshold, I close the front door and follow him.

Walking through the hallway to get to the kitchen, pictures of David, Fiona, and Scarlett line the walls. There are a few photos of his family and his parents when he was young. His house has a cozy feel, and despite Duncan’s grumpy disposition, it fits.

He has always had a strong loyalty to everybody he cares about. It’s not surprising that it’s reflected here.

When I reach him, he’s pulling a cookie tray out of the oven and cursing. I know I shouldn’t make myself comfortable, but I’m shocked at what he’s baking. The apron led me to believe he liked to bake, but this, this I never would’ve guessed.

“Are those dog treats?” I ask, leaning around him for a better look at the adorable paws, bones, and fire hydrants that, although an unattractive shade of grey, are ridiculously delightful.

“I volunteer at the rescue and like to bring treats for the dogs,” he mumbles. “What can I say? Baking has always been something I’ve done to relieve stress.”

I can’t help but stare at him, my lips curving up at the corner. “I remember your mom used to love to bake.”

“Yeah, she taught me everything she knew.” He walks the treat tray to the trash and dumps the burnt biscuits in. “Whenever I visit her, we try out a new recipe. We’ve been working on dog treats to help Mile High Mutts Rescue fundraise. Obviously, it’s still a work in progress.”

I watch him as he brings the cookie tray back to the stove, doing everything to avoid looking at me.

“What wouldTea Timethink about this little tidbit?” He whips toward me, eyes wide. “Don’t worry, I won’t say anything. But I’m pretty sure you’d have even more people curious about the ‘brooding yet irresistibly handsome goalie.’”

The look on his face is mortified, and a giggle escapes.

“Ava…” A warning tone escapes him, and he narrows his eyes.

“Your secret is safe with me,” I say, crossing my heart.

The corner of his lip lifts, and a tiny glint lights his eyes. Once again, I find myself wondering who this man is.

“So,” I say, clearing my throat and moving to the other side of the kitchen island to put some distance between the two of us. Being this close to him is doing strange things to my heart. “I had an interesting call from my agent today…”

I look down at the island and notice Duncan’s workspace filled with all things cookie and a bowl of treat dough. I start to play with one of the cookie cutters before pulling my gaze back to his.

The glint is gone from his eyes and his lips are tight. My stomach drops, and I watch him as he turns off the oven.

“I got a call from my agent Finn, too,” he says, his back still facing me. “I would love to be able to help you with this, Ava, truly, but I don’t think I can.”

“Oh,” I say, failing to keep the disappointment out of my voice. “I understand.”

He turns back to me, his gaze slamming into mine, and my stomach plummets.

Chapter Eleven

Duncan

Avaisdoinganimpressive job hiding her disappointment, exhibiting once again why she’s the award-winning movie star she is. But as always, I can see through it. There’s an ache in my chest, and my stomach is queasy. The desire to say yes and help her is powerful, but my need for self-preservation is stalwart.

“I really—”

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