"You can hang for as long as you want. We've got cheesecake in the fridge. My mom always used to eat cheesecake when she was sad."
"I think I would have liked your mom."
"Yeah? Well, we're even then, because I like yours."
"I got lucky in the little brother department," she said, giving him a hug.
"Here's hoping you get lucky in the Brent department, too," he said, then headed for the door. "Talk to you later, okay?"
"Sounds good. And thanks."
And then, just like that, she was alone again, her thoughts once again on Brent and her longing and her inability to get even an ounce of reason through his thick skull.
Damn the man.
With a sigh, she headed for the fridge. She was about to undertake a little cheesecake therapy when she heard the key in the lock. Then the kitchen door opened and Tyree stepped in.
"Ah, mon bijou. What a surprise. Oh, baby, no," he added when she burst into tears. "What's wrong?"
"I don't want to talk about it. Where's Mom?"
"She's shopping. You don't want to talk about it with me? Or you don't want to talk about it at all?"
She peered at him through a liquid film, but didn't answer.
"So it's about Brent, then. Well, I wouldn't want to talk about it with me, either."
She lifted her head and sniffed noisily.
He went to the pantry, opened the door, then pulled an apron off a hook. He handed it to her, and she took it out of reflex.
"What--"
"Come cook with me."
"But--will it help?"
"Is th
ere anything you can do right now to fix whatever happened between you two?"
"No."
"Is there anything you can tell me that will make it all feel better?"
Again, she shook her head.
"In that case, ma cherie, it seems that cooking's about the only thing we can do."
She considered that, nodded, then tied the apron around her waist. It might not help, but it damn sure couldn't hurt. And right then, she really did want her dad.
Chapter Fourteen
Brent had been living in a fog since Thursday, certain he'd done the right thing, and yet feeling that certainty buckle under his feet every time he thought of her and every time Faith asked when Elena would be coming over.
Dammit, he knew what he knew. And what he knew was that he'd made the right decision.
But if that was so, why did he feel so hollow? And why was he second-guessing himself in every quiet moment.