She had, actually. He distinctly remembered her standing in much the same posture and telling him time and again that he needed to get his shit together, because the way he was going, he'd have dated every woman in Travis County. Of course, she'd been wearing jeans that day. Not a bathrobe.
He drew in a breath and tried to keep his temper in check. "This isn't about--"
"This isn't about anything," Brent interrupted, using the same voice that Reece had heard him use with Faith when she was being particularly cranky. "Jenna slept in my bed, I slept on the couch, and I'm guessing nobody's sleeping with you lately. Because you, my friend, are wound too tight."
"What the hell, Reece?" Jenna snapped. "Do you honestly think I'd sleep with Brent? And right down the hall from his daughter?"
"You told me you were staying with Amanda."
She rolled her eyes, then turned and started walking toward the kitchen. "Oh, right." She paused in the doorway and looked back over her shoulder at him. "And since I'm not allowed to change my plans without sending you a text message asking permission, I'm in trouble now."
"Dammit, Jenna--"
She whirled on him. "Don't 'dammit, Jenna,' me. Unless I'm camped out on your couch, it's none of your business where I sleep. But for your information, the Franklins are having their floors redone, so Amanda's got her parents in her house. And I wasn't keen on sleeping on the sofa while Mr. Franklin hangs out in the living room at five in the morning watching the news."
"Children," Brent said, "if we could just--"
"Oh, no," Jenna said, cutting Brent off. Apparently, she was still on a very Jenna-like roll. She turned her attention back to Reece. "You seriously thought we'd slept together? You guys are my best friends. You know that. Hell, you're my family, and you know that, too. Besides, I don't think about him that way," she continued, her voice tight and sharp. "But even if I did, do you think I'd risk that? Risk losing the only family I have besides my mom? Damn you, Reece Walker. You're a goddamn idiot."
She was right, of course. He didn't believe it, but damned if an insane rush of jealousy hadn't completely swept him away in a tidal wave of primal, raw emotion.
He couldn't remember a time he'd lost his shit like that, and all he could do now was shake his head, apologize, and hope there wasn't a big neon sign flashing over his head advertising exactly why he'd gotten so bent out of shape in the first place.
"I'm an ass, okay? That's the bottom line, and the sooner we all accept the truth, the happier we'll all be."
"An ass," she repeated, leaning casually against the doorframe. "Care to elucidate?"
"I think he's summed it up nicely," Brent said. Jenna turned to him, her arms crossed and her mouth a thin line of disapproval. She stared him down. One second, then another--and then all three of them burst into laughter.
"Oh, shit," Jenna said. "I mean, seriously, Reece. What the fuck?"
"Sorry. I know." He ran his palm over his head, wishing the contact could help him come up with something even remotely plausible. "It's this bullshit with Tyree. I didn't sleep for thinking about it, and then I walked in and--well, straw, meet camel."
Her mouth twisted with exasperation as she pushed away from the wall. "Idiot," she muttered, then hip-butted him as she moved past him into the kitchen. She paused long enough to point to Brent. "You, go finish getting dressed. And to answer your question, yes, you can hang up my dress. In the bathroom, with the shower on hot. I need to steam out some wrinkles. And as for you..."
She turned her attention to Reece. "Make some coffee, would you? I'll start bacon, and Brent can do the eggs when he gets back."
Reece did as she said, and when the coffee was brewing, he hoisted himself up on the counter and watched as she poked at the frying bacon with the tongs. Her back was to him, and he could just make out the curves of her ass against the thick material of the robe. He wanted to slide off the cabinet, go to her, and cup her ass in his hands as he bent to kiss her neck. She probably tasted like bacon. Either way, he could damn sure eat her up.
And no way could that ever happen, for all the reasons she'd stated.
As if he'd spoken aloud, she looked over her shoulder, her brows rising in question. "Yeah?"
"Just watching you cook and thinking."
"Oh? About what?" She turned back to the sizzling pan, moving the meat around, as he hopped down and came up behind her.
What was he thinking? The truth was something he couldn't tell her, especially after her announcement that she considered him only family, and didn't think of him that way at all.
The truth was that he was thinking about her. About the feel of her skin that night. And he was trying to remember the exact pinkish-brown of her exposed areola when he'd undressed her. And he was probably heading straight for hell because those thoughts spun into a sweet fantasy about sliding his hand between her thighs to cup her smooth, shaved pussy. Not to mention the X-rated movie playing in his mind about what would have happened had he not simply cleaned her up that night, but if he'd laid her naked on the bed then tasted every warm, delicious inch of her.
But those weren't best friend thoughts, and so as he moved behind her now in Brent's kitchen, he said none of it. Instead, he told her he was thinking about bacon.
"Bacon?" She didn't sound convinced, but he didn't have the strength to argue, not when he was right behind her, the scent of her shampoo intoxicating him. Brent's shampoo, actually, but it smelled one hell of a lot better on Jenna.
"I'm ravenous." He leaned to one side, his hand resting on the stainless steel edge of the stove as he reached around her with his other hand to snag a piece of bacon off the paper-towel covered plate onto which she was piling the cooked pieces. He paused in the motion, realizing that she was effectively caged in his arms, and it would be so ridiculously easy to brush her hair with his lips, or even spin her around and capture her mouth before she could protest.
"Reece." Her back was still to him, so he couldn't see her face, but he heard an unfamiliar tightness in her voice. An awareness. A heat. And he felt a corresponding tension in his balls.