Laurel spared a bland glance as she reached for her bowl of filling. “I made the move, and now that I’m over being embarrassed, I feel better. It was just part of the argument really, which was my fault. Mostly my fault. He shouldn’t have tried to pay me for the cake. It was the red flag when I was already pawing the ground. You wouldn’t try to pay for a damn cake.”

“No.” Still Parker held up a finger. “So, let me see if I understand. You don’t want him to lump you in the pile, so to speak, but you don’t want him to offer to pay you for your work, because that’s insulting.”

“You had to be there.”

“Can we forget he’s my brother for a minute?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Let’s give it a shot.” To keep it casual, Parker leaned back against the counter. “You’re attracted.You’re both interesting, unattached, attractive people. Why wouldn’t you be?”

“Because it’s Del.”

“What’s wrong with Del?”

“Nothing. See, this is weird.” She grabbed her bottle of water, then set it down again without drinking. “It’s not logical, Parker, and not something you can work out for me. We’re going to be fine—Del and me, I mean. I’m already over it, and I doubt he gave it a minute’s thought after the fact. Now, go away, so I can concentrate on this baklava.”

“All right. But you’ll tell me if there’s anything to tell.”

“Don’t I always?”

Up till now, Parker thought, but left it at that.

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER FIVE

GROWING UP IN A FEMALE-DOMINATED HOUSEHOLD PROVIDED DEL with certain basics to live by One, which he thought applied at the moment, decreed if a man didn’t understand what was going on, and the lack of understanding meant trouble, a certain distance was recommended.

The same rule, he felt, applied in more ... personal male/female relationships—which was also oddly apt under the circumstances.

He’d kept his distance from Laurel, and while it hadn’t led him to a brainstorm of understanding, he could only hope the space had given her room to simmer down.

He didn’t mind a fight. They kept things lively, for one thing, and often cleared the air, for another. But he liked to know the rules of the bout. In this case, he didn’t have a clue.

He was used to her temper, what he thought of as her quicksilver moods. And having her take a few swipes at him was nothing new.

Kissing him brainless? Brand-spanking-new. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, and thinking about it hadn’t helped him reach any conclusions.

Which just pissed him off.

Conclusions, solutions, alternatives, compromises—they served as his stock-in-trade. And with this very personal puzzle, he just couldn’t find the key pieces.