Her whole face seemed to glow. "That's so sweet. Any morning you want to make one for me, just say so."
He swallowed, trying to clear his head. But everything with this woman seemed to have a double meaning, and he was undoubtedly going to dig himself a very deep hole.
"Right. Well, I need to run. Thanks for coming early today. I'm trying to follow up some leads about those taggers." Specifically, he was going to go over the security footage that Landon had managed to get from the other nearby establishments.
Her brow furrowed. "Aren't the police handling it?"
"They are. But I'm doing what I can. I used to be one of the police, remember?"
"A detective. I know. More's the pity."
He peered at her, confused. "What?"
"Detectives don't wear uniforms." Her voice had gone deeper, and just a little husky. "And I bet you looked great in a uniform."
He took a single step toward her. "What are you doing, Elena?"
She glanced down, but when she looked up again, he saw strength in those chocolate brown eyes. "Just being honest. You said I was pretty, remember? I think we're even now."
He said nothing.
"Do you miss it?"
He shook his head, confused.
"Being a detective," she clarified.
He waited a beat before answering, then nodded. "Yeah. I do. But it's a hazardous job. I have more important responsibilities."
"Yes, you do. And you don't take many risks, do you, Brent?"
He looked her straight in the eye, his heart pounding in protest of his words. "No, Elena. I really don't."
Chapter Seven
"Thanks for helping me with this," Elena said to her dad as she checked the temperature of the two round yellow cakes she'd pulled from the oven in Tyree's kitchen an hour ago.
"Cool enough to frost?" he asked.
"Yup," she said. Faith had told her and Brent that she wanted a homemade cake for her party tomorrow, and when Brent told Elena that he'd yet to make a cake that wasn't lopsided and dry, she'd volunteered. Then she'd roped in her dad.
"You don't have to thank me. We've been cooking together enough these past few months, so you should know I'm happy to do it. For you and for Faith."
"Not for Brent?" As soon as she asked the question, she regretted it. She'd been on pins and needles around Tyree for almost a week now, ever since she started babysitting for Brent.
For that matter, she'd been cool and distant around Brent, too, her own demeanor matching his. The electricity still crackled between them, but ever since he'd shut down their flirtation on Sunday, he'd been coolly polite. To her face, anyway.
Every once in a while she'd catch him looking at her in a way that set her body humming. But those moments lasted only seconds, and only when he thought she wasn't paying attention. And two nights ago she'd awakened when he'd come into the house at a quarter to four. She'd pretended to be asleep, though, and when he sat on the coffee table just inches from where she lay on the couch, she'd been terrified that the wild pounding of her heart would give her away.
After a few moments, he'd rested his hand on her bare shoulder where the sleeve of her oversized T-shirt had slipped off. His touch had lingered for a few seconds longer than necessary before he'd gently shaken her as he whispered her name. She'd pretended to rouse groggily from a deep sleep, but at the time, she'd never felt so awake, and even now she could recall the sensation of his hand against her bare skin.
She wanted more, and she felt her cheeks heat as she quickly concentrated on measuring the confectioner's sugar.
Beside her, Tyree hesitated before he measured out the cocoa and poured it into the mixing bowl. Just a minor hitch, and she would have missed it if she hadn't been looking. But she had been.
"Daddy?"
He turned to her, a tight smile on his kind face.