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“No. She’s too fussy,” quipped Eve. “I‘d have had no problem locking down a suitable man myself.”

“Why haven’t you, then, Eve?” Brody leaned back against the shiny seat cushion and draped his arm around the back of the bench.

Eve shrugged. “They all want Ro.”

Brody tipped his head to the side as if he were contemplating the solution to world poverty. “So, there aren’t any single men in town who haven’t taken Ro Swan on a date?”

“Exactly,” beamed Eve. “I swear you could make a romance book from her dating life.”

A tragedy more like. “I am here, you know. Can we change the subject? I’d rather my tragic love life wasn’t up for public discussion.” What was Eve trying to achieve? I wasn’t interested in having a love life.

“Eve!” A man’s voice cut through the thick chatter of the diner. We all looked back to the counter to see the grim-faced chef beckoning her like a madman.

“Oops! Looks like I overstayed my break time. I’ll see you later, Ro.” I scowled at the saccharine grin on Eve’s face. She stood, and Brody made to move out of the way. “No need,” Eve said before bobbing down under the table.

Was she about to crawl out of the booth on her hands and knees? “I’m so sorry,” I murmured to Brody before leaning down to track my friend’s progress. She’d ogled Brody until halfway out. She turned her head to me, gave me a thumbs-up, and mouthed the words “great legs.” I sat bolt upright, cheeks afire, fighting the urge to kick her. If Brody guessed Eve was checking out his body, I didn’t want him to think I was in any way involved.

When she finally extracted herself from under the table, Eve stood and gave Brody a flirty smile. “It’s good to see you, Flock. Don’t be a stranger.” She backed away toward the counter, colliding with a table on her way. Setting a vase of plastic flowers back upright, she giggled and gave Brody a little wave. Man, she had it bad.

Brody and I turned back to stare at each other across the table. His blue eyes burned into mine, roaming over my face as if taking in every feature. Under his ocular onslaught, I foughtto keep my breath steady. I wished I could tell what was going through his mind. But every molecule in the air between us hummed. Vibrated.

“Ro,” he said, his voice soft. “Can I do something?”

Before I could answer, he leaned in a little, and my breath hitched in my throat. A burning rose in my chest as flashbacks from prom night barreled into my brain. The memory of his mouth and hands on me. Was he going to kiss me again? Right here in the diner? I swallowed hard and nodded, praying that he didn’t have an allergy to cinnamon. But instead of leaning across the table to claim my lips, he lifted his hand to my face and brushed my cheek with his thumb.

“Icing,” he murmured. “We can’t have you looking as dirty as your reputation.”

The wink that accompanied his words had my panties melting on the spot. I had the strangest urge to turn my cheek into his hand. It was ridiculous! He wasn’t about to kiss me and I shouldn’t be feeling like this. Not again. Brody was my brother’s best friend. Not to mention, he was way out of my league, and he’d broken my heart once already. Why would I chance that happening again?

I shook my head, dislodging my thoughts. “So, how is it being back?” I asked with far too much enthusiasm.

“It’s odd, with my folks not being here and all.” Brody licked the tip of his index finger and ran it around the plate Eve left, capturing the remnants of cinnamon sugar before popping it into his mouth. I swear I licked my own lips. Oh, holy crap, what else could his tongue do?

“It must seem like nothing’s changed,” I persisted, willing him to sit on his hands.

He paused, his gaze fixed on mine. “That’s not true. Not everything’s stayed the same.”

His words hung between us like someone who’d outstayed their welcome, and a clammy feeling sprung in my palms.

“You really don’t have a boyfriend? How is that even possible?”

I blinked and struggled to find words, my cheeks heating. Was he being serious, or was he still playing with me? “I think my hobbies and three older brothers might have something to do with it.”

He chuckled. “The older brothers, I get. I’ve seen Cooper defend your honor before. But what I don’t get is what you could possibly do to frighten a man away? Don’t tell me you’ve taken up grave robbing? Human sacrifice in the town square?”

“I crochet.”

The corners of his mouth trembled the second the words left my lips.

“The hottest date in town crochets? Isn’t that what old ladies do?” He shook his head slowly. “That Mrs. Woodcock has really done a number on you. You’ll be dyeing your hair gray soon. Wearing slacks.”

I huffed. “Stop, don’t knock it. Crochet makes me money.”

His smile grew. “Do people pay to watch you stitching live on Only Fans?”

“Oh, ha-ha. I have an Etsy store. People buy the stuff I make.”

“I see.” Brody rubbed his chin as if contemplating dropping a cool million on a new jet. “So you’re talented with your hands, then. When do you plan to leave town and live on the French Riviera with your profits?”