I raised my brows since my mouth was full.
“When we used to sit in the kitchen late at night, because you decided you wanted brownies or cake,” he said.
Swallowing the sticky goodness, I picked up my can of soda. I didn’t want to reminisce with him, but I couldn’t stop myself. “Actually, you wanted brownies or cake.”
He chuckled. “That’s a revisionist history of events.”
I cast him a sidelong look.
“Okay. I was the one who wanted to eat the baked brownies or cake, but you wanted to make it because you wanted the raw cake and brownie mix.” His thick lashes lowered. “You still do that?”
“Never.” I did just that two days ago.
The look on his face said he knew the truth. Neither of us talked as we finished off the doughnuts, leaving one in the carton—one that I would definitely eat once he left.
“So, I came here to talk to you.” Brock wiped his fingers off on the paper towel as his gaze slid in my direction. “Because I’m disappointed.”
I frowned as I cleaned the stickiness from my fingers. “In what?”
“You.”
“Excuse me?” I leaned back.
Rolling the towel up, he dropped it in the brown paper bag. “When you decided to stay and work with me—”
“For you,” I corrected.
“For me.” He dipped his chin and grinned, peering up at me through those impossibly thick lashes. “I didn’t think you would spend the entire time hiding from me.”
Oh crap.
I fixed a blank expression on my face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Really?” His tone was sly. “The only time I see you is when we’re in a meeting with the staff.”
“That sounds normal,” I argued.
“And whenever I happen to walk out of my office, you’re suddenly on the phone.”
I bit the inside of my cheek. “Well, I’m making a lot of calls, checking the prices of advertisements and trying to find—”
“Uh-huh. And it’s real convenient those calls only seem to take place when I’m not in my office.”
I forced a casual shrug.
“And how do I know that?” he rested his chin in his palm, looking way too smug. “I checked today. I called Steve. You know, he sits directly in front of you, and I asked if you were on the phone.”
Oh no.
“He said no, but guess what?”
I said nothing.
Brock waited.
Sighing, I folded my arms. “What?”
“You were on the phone a second after I stepped out of my office.”
“How coincidental,” I murmured. “You have some really bad timing.”
He arched a brow. “That’s bullshit.”
“Language, Mr. Mitchell,” I mimicked.
Surprise flickered over his face and then he threw his head back and laughed, exposing his neck. And who knew a neck could be so attractive? I didn’t, but his was.
Without warning, Rhage jumped up on the island.
Brock lowered his chin. “Well, hello there.”
The cat looked at him, ears perked and then twitched. He stared at Brock like he had no idea why another male was in the house. It would be a valid thing to wonder about.
“Sorry. He has really bad manners.” I sighed. “Rhage, get down.”
Plopping his butt down on the counter, he lifted one leg and slowly licked his paw as he eyed Brock.
“He listens well,” Brock said dryly as he reached toward him.
“Don’t do that!” I warned, but it was too late. His fingers were already within biting and scratching territory. Cringing, I wanted for the inevitable claw swipe.
It never came.
Rhage lowered his paw and stretched his head out, sniffing the tips of Brock’s fingers. Then Brock moved. Rhage stayed still as he scratched him behind the ear. After a few seconds, Brock removed his hand and Rhage hopped down, his kitty claws clicking as he pranced down the hall, toward the bedroom.
“What the hell?” I whispered, awed and a bit annoyed. “He hates everyone. Including me.”
“Odd. Seems like a pretty chill cat.” Turning back to me, Brock rested his arms on the island. “Anyway, you’re avoiding me.”
I was still fixated on the fact Rhage didn’t bite him or at least hiss at him. My cat was a traitorous bastard of the worst sort.
“And I want you to stop.”
“Huh?” I blinked, focusing on him.
He leaned in, his gaze locked with mine. “I get there is some . . . there is some shit between us, and God knows if I could go back and change things, I would. You have no idea how badly I wish I didn’t have my head stuck so far up my own ass back then. I can’t go back though. Can never do that.”
I clammed up, my jaw locking down so hard I was surprised I didn’t undo all the work doctors had invested in repairing my face.
“But you know, when Andrew said you agreed to the job, I was so . . . so fucking relieved, because I knew then I was going to not only get to see you, but finally talk to you.” He sat back and slowly shook his head. “Reconnecting with you means a lot to me, Jillian. I know I’m now your boss, and I know how this sounds, trust me, but I want to be friends with you.”
I had no idea what to say.
“And I know we can’t go back and pretend that I didn’t . . .” A muscle flexed in his jaw as his gaze moved to the opposite wall lined with cabinets. “That I didn’t let you down in all the worst ways. I know I’ve apologized before. I said I was sorry a hundred times.”