Slipping free, I was thankful he couldn’t see how red my face was becoming. “I’ll pick up some pastries tomorrow,” I decided, wrapping my arms around my waist as I shivered. Wind lifted my hair, tossing the strands around my shoulders.

Brock was quiet and still.

I drew in one breath and then another. “We should also give Paul a heads-up about them coming in since I believe they are his classes.”

“They are.” Brock shrugged off his black sport coat and draped it over my shoulders, apparently not even phased by the weirdness that had just gone down. “We have three prospects in those classes. I know your father is interested in having them come up to Philadelphia so he can get a read on them.”

“Thank you.” I gripped the edges of his jacket, holding them together as we crossed the street. “Which guys are you looking at?”

As Brock rattled off their names, he fished out his car keys. Hitting the unlock button, he opened the passenger door for me. I slid in, keeping his jacket around me, mainly because it was warm and . . . and when I inhaled deeply, I caught the scent of woodsy cologne.

“We did good tonight,” Brock said as he closed the driver’s door and hit the ignition button. Air blew out of the vents, quickly warming up.

“Yes. We did.” I glanced over at him.

Sitting back against the seat, he eyed me in the shadows. “We make a good team.”

“We do.” A smile pulled at my mouth, so I turned to the right.

“Why do you do that?”

“Do what?” My smile faded as I looked back over at him.

He leaned over, curling his fingers around my chin. My breath caught and my eyes widened. “Every time you start to smile, you either stop or look away. Why?”

“I . . .” Our gazes locked, and I had this crazy sense of falling under. I don’t know what made my mouth move. “I can’t smile right.”

His gaze searched mine and he didn’t speak for a long moment. “Nerve damage?”

“Yeah.” I tore my gaze from his. “It’s weird. You’d think it would be my right side since I had . . . I had to have that part of my jaw replaced, but it’s the left side. I guess it . . . just hit the right place.”

Brock’s gaze dropped from mine, to my mouth. “I can’t . . . I can’t remember the last time I saw you smile.”

I tensed.

“Well, actually I do.” He dragged his thumb along my lower lip, sending a wave of shivers over my skin. “I remember.”

My eyes closed as his thumb made another sweep. The gesture affected me more than it should have.

“I know your smile now has to be as beautiful as it was before,” he said, voice low. “Don’t hide it, Jillian.”