"And?"
Little shoulders rose and fell with a five-year-old's version of guilt-plus-exasperation. "And if I don't know who it is, then I'm not allowed to open the door. But I do know Elena. So I shouldn't be in trouble."
"Mmmm. Not how it works, kiddo. Go on." He gave her a light pat on the bottom. "Wash your hands, then come back in here."
"Okay." She started toward her room, then paused to look back at Elena. "I'm glad you're here. And you really are pretty. Daddy said so." Then she turned and scampered down the hallway, leaving Elena to tame the wild butterflies that had begun dancing in her belly.
Brent shot her a quick glance before shaking his head in exasperation as he watched his daughter disappear.
"Did you really say that?" She knew she shouldn't ask, but somehow she couldn't keep her mouth shut any more than she could turn off the pleasant tingles that were spreading through her body.
He cleared his throat as he stuck his hands in his pockets. "I did," he said, lifting his head to meet her eyes. "Although I was saying it in agreement with Faith's assessment. A little fact she conveniently left out."
She took a further step into the living room, emboldened by his admission. "So you're not just running around telling the world you think I'm pretty?"
"No."
"But you do think so?"
"I just said I did."
She swallowed, knowing she should be quiet, but unable to still her tongue. "I'm glad to hear it," she said, then added in a whisper, "It matters to me what you think."
His head tilted almost imperceptibly, but she'd paid enough attention to him over the last few months to recognize his subtle signals. He was interested. And a little bit unsure. "And why's that?" he finally said.
Her throat tightened, and she wondered if he could hear the pounding of her heart. She almost lost her nerve, but this was opportunity knocking loud and hard, and she'd be a fool to ignore it. "Don't you know?"
r /> He didn't answer. Instead, he simply held her gaze as she kicked herself. She should have said nothing. Or she should have said more. Instead, she'd played it coy, and what if he didn't know? What if he didn't understand at all?
"Elena."
That was all he said, but she thought she heard longing in his voice. Or was that just her imagination? She didn't know. All she knew was that he was looking right at her, and she was starting to feel a little drunk as she stared into those whiskey colored eyes.
A moment passed, then another. And finally she found her voice. "Yes?"
His throat moved as he swallowed. "I think I should show you the kitchen. I've got some leftovers Faith can have for dinner."
"Oh." She felt as if she'd fallen out of a cozy boat into a freezing ocean. "Right."
"I'll be home late. Probably three. You're up for this?"
"Of course." She conjured a smile before following him to the kitchen. "I'm up for whatever you need."
Unfortunately, she could tell perfectly well that he didn't need her.
Chapter Six
Brent had a hell of a time keeping his mind on work. Instead, he kept thinking of Elena. Of her sweet smile. Her lithe body.
Of her seemingly innocent words that weren't innocent at all.
Whatever you need.
God, did she even know what she was offering? Because he wanted a lot. Too bad he couldn't take what she was offering.
What he thought she was offering.
But no. He wasn't that dense. She was interested. And God knew he was interested.