This was weird. Brody was, had been, her friend. She’d never stared at his broad shoulders before. Or, when he climbed under her desk, his rear. But now, India was completely distracted by pretty much everything about Brody. It was unnerving as hell. But not necessarily bad.
“Looks like the modem was plugged in incorrectly,” he said, sitting back on his knees and inspecting the back of the modem.
“Of course it was.” She shook her head. “Please don’t tell me I’ve spent the last week stressing out over nothing.”
He grinned up at her. “If it was stressing you out, it was something.” He’d always been good at that—making things better. “Let’s try it now.” He tucked the modem back into place, then sat in her chair. “Aw, shit.”
She covered her mouth, laughing at the wet spot soaking the back of his pants. And his mighty-fine rear. “Um, it might still be a little wet.”
He cocked a brow. “Thanks.” With a shake of his head, he sat and focused on the task at hand. His expression changed, eyes narrowing, lips quirked, his jaw going rigid as he plugged in the codes. With a few more clicks, the screen turned blue and the welcome popped up. “Looks like it took.”
“That was it? A plug? Really?” She glanced back and forth between him and the computer screen. “I don’t know whether to hug you or hit you.”
He stood. “I’d prefer a hug. A hug is the better choice.”
She laughed, hugging him before she had time to think it through. “Thank you, Brody. You have no idea how frustrated I’ve been.”
His arms were strong and secure around her. “Life’s too short to sweat the small stuff.”
She nodded, far too content to stay in his arms. “You were right,” she whispered, trying not to burrow closer. It was hard.
“About not sweating the small stuff?” he asked. “Can’t take the credit. It’s one of those inspirational quote-of-the-day things.”
“Not that.” She laughed again. “About the hug.”
“Oh.” His arms tightened. “That. Yeah, I’m enjoying it. You always gave good hugs.”
She gave up the fight and burrowed closer. “I was going to say the same thing.” The problem was she didn’t want to let go.
“You okay, Goldilocks?” he asked, his voice close to her ear.
“Of course.” Was she? She was trying to be. Maybe her hold on him was a little too tight, a little too needy, to be convincing.
“I think we should load up the truck and head out to the ridge—like we used to,” he said. “A little stargazing and solving the world’s problems.” His breath brushed her ear.
“Think it’ll work?” she asked.
“Might be worth a try.” His hand stroked her back.
Except they were no longer teenagers. They were adults. Parents. With very different goals. Hers was to get out of Fort Kyle. His was to become mayor.
“Um, hi.” India’s sister, Scarlett, stood awkwardly in the doorway, Amberleigh in her arms. “She was looking for her daddy.”
India stiffened. At least it was Scarlett. She wouldn’t say a word to anyone—not that there was anything to tell.
“You need to get a doorbell or something,” Brody said, letting go of India. “Or someone could sneak up on you and scare you.”
India laughed in spite of herself.
“We didn’t mean to scare you, did we?” Scarlett asked Amberleigh.
Amberleigh shook her head. “Brought cookies, Daddy.”
“Thank you, darlin’.” Brody crossed the room to his daughter.
India watched as he stooped, taking the cookie his little girl held up. Maybe his hug had reinforced just how lonely she was. Maybe it was because Brody was synonymous with comfort and security. Or maybe it was because he was incredibly attractive. It was probably a combination. Whatever the reason, she couldn’t shake this new awareness of Brody.
“Share, Daddy,” the little girl said. “Manners.”