Free Trusting Them by Marla Monroe Page B

until she opened to tell them to go away. Instead, a devious tongue slipped inside her mouth and woke up her taste buds with the flavor of coffee and tangy male.
    Her eyes fluttered open. She found herself looking up into Brady’s smiling eyes. Neither of them said a word for nearly ten seconds.
    “Morning, baby. How do you feel today?”
    “Hi.” Jeni felt shy for some reason. “You’re back.”
    “Got back about midnight last night. Found you on the floor wearing one of our Dad’s old coats and boots. Looked much better on you than it did him.”
    “I needed wood for the fire. I hope it was okay to have borrowed it.”
    “Of course it was. You could use anything in the house you wanted to. You’re completely welcome here.” Brady squeezed her shoulders, then slowly pushed her upright. She swung her legs off the couch and placed them on the floor.
    “Where is Brock?” she asked.
    “He went out to check the roads to see if they’re passable yet.” Brady wouldn’t look at her when he said that.
    “Oh, okay.” She pushed off the couch with a moan and Brady was instantly there helping her stand.
    “Take it easy.”
    “I’m fine, just sore is all. How about I fix something to eat?” She headed towards the kitchen.
    “You don’t have to do that. You’re our guest. Besides, you’re still coughing some. You need to rest.”
    “I can cook pancakes for all of us. I’m really pretty good at cooking some things.” Jeni sidestepped Brady’s attempt to stop her and continued into the kitchen.
    She hadn’t seen much of it the night before as it had been dark. The room proved to be an eat-in kitchen with plenty of counter space and an industrial-sized stove and refrigerator. The shiny stainless steel dishwasher looked perfect in the oversized kitchen. It would be any cook’s dream.
    “If you can get me some supplies, I’ll start whipping up the batter,” she said.
    Brady hesitated, then shrugged and disappeared inside a pantry off to the left of the room she hadn’t noticed before. When he returned, he sat out cooking oil, flour, butter, and sugar. Jeni checked for buttermilk in the fridge and found a half gallon. She could have used regular milk, but the buttermilk would be better.
    “How long before Brock gets back? I don’t want his to get cold.”
    “Shouldn’t be too long. I’ll put on some sausage in the oven, and once it cooks you can start the pancakes,” he offered.
    Twenty minutes later, Jeni poured the first circle of batter on the griddle and began cooking the pancakes. Not ten minutes later, the sound of a truck door slamming jerked her head up. Brock was back. Why did she suddenly feel nervous?
    “Hey, something smells good.” She heard his voice as he opened the door.
    “Come on in, brother, Jeni is making us some pancakes.”
    “I’m going to go clean up, and I’ll be right back down.”
    It wasn’t lost on her when he jerked his head towards the stairs at Brady that he wanted to talk to him alone. Something was up. Either the roads were passable or they weren’t. What more could there be that would affect her?
    A few minutes later, both men returned to the kitchen, each looking a little less enthusiastic. Brock hugged her from behind and placed a kiss on her cheek.
    “Smells good, baby. Thanks for cooking.”
    “I didn’t mind. I like to cook.” She turned over the last pancake and waited for it to brown.
    “These are delicious!” Brady said around a mouthful of pancake.
    “You could wait for her to start, idiot,” Brock admonished.
    “Don’t wait on me. It will get cold. I’ll be there in just a second.”
    “Hurry on over here and get seated. We’ll serve you.” Brock pulled out a chair as she turned off the stove and carried the last of the pancakes to the table.
    For the next thirty minutes, the only sounds in the kitchen were the sounds of eating and clanking utensils as they ate up. Brady finished first and picked up empty plates. He rinsed them in the