Openmouthed, she watched him kick the door closed with his heel and proceed to set the bags down on her kitchen counter. He turned and cocked that brow at her.
“I thought you had somewhere to be an hour ago?”
“I—um, it canceled.” Setting her hands on her hips, she cocked a brow back at him. “I thought you said you didn’t push a woman, Flynn?”
“I don’t. But since you’re in denial it doesn’t count. I’m thinking it’s because you’re in need of sustenance.” He turned to unload the grocery bags. As he did, he asked, “So did you dig up all the dirt on me and my family?”
Guilty heat flared in her cheeks. “What are you talking about?”
He suppressed a smile, but pointed to the open laptop. “If I check your search history, I won’t find my name anywhere on it?”
“No¸” she said slamming the laptop closed. “Don’t flatter yourself. You became history the minute you walked out that door. I don’t know why you’re back here except to harass me.”
“I have no compassion in my heart for your request to disengage, Pink. Besides, I really didn’t want to eat alone, so I brought Denny’s to you.”
Her stomach growled and her mood softened. The last and only person to make sure she ate a good meal was her mother. “I don’t cook.”
He turned and flashed a blinding smile. “I do.”
“I ate.”
“What, air and water?”
“I had coffee. I’m not a breakfast eater.”
“Consider this brunch. Now tell me what you dug up on me.”
“Nothing.”
“C’mon Pink,” he cajoled as he opened the cupboard to the left of her sink and found the only mixing bowl she possessed. Then he opened a drawer and took out several utensils. Easily he continued to work his way around her kitchen. “We both know you’ve been pouty since I left.”
“Have not.”
He looked over his shoulder and smiled again. Damn he was good looking. “Have too.”
He cracked a half a dozen eggs into the bowl and added some spices and green stuff and milk and whipped them up. Setting the bowl aside, he fired up the griddle she didn’t know they had and placed several large sausage patties on it along with thick-cut bacon. Her mouth watered. Like a magician, he opened a white bag and pulled out the biggest, yummiest-looking chocolate croissant she had ever seen. Her favorite. Her mother used to make them for her and Alex when they were little, along with homemade hot chocolate. They’d pour the chocolate into their teacups, nibble on the buttery croissants, and speak with French accents. They’d been tres chic!
Flynn set it on a plate and placed it in front of her. “Tell me you don’t want it.”
Oh she wanted it all right and him for dessert. “I don’t want it.”
He reached to take it away, but she grabbed his hand, staying it. “That doesn’t mean I won’t eat it.”
He nodded. “That’s my girl.”
His girl? Warmth infused her. Commit her now, because she was losing it.
As he cooked breakfast, she tried not to inhale the buttery chocolate decadence, but to eat it slowly and savor it. The aroma of sausage, bacon, and the herb-flavored omelet he was cooking was doing crazy things to her stomach. Chewing the last bit of croissant, she sat back and watched him move like a five-star chef in her kitchen.
“Where did you learn to cook?” she asked.
“Francois, our family chef. He couldn’t cook fast enough for me, so he taught me how to cook for myself.”
“Where did you go to college?”
“Why are you asking me questions you already know the answer to?”
“Fine, I snooped. Arrest me.”
“I still might.”
Ignoring his comment, she said, “So you went to Columbia business?”
“Yup.”
“Why did you decide not to go into the family business?”
He turned with two heaping plates of food. Setting one down in front of her and the other across from her, he poured them each a fresh cup of coffee before he sat down. “I did, actually, for a few years. I was bored. A college friend tapped me for the FBI and I figured why the hell not? The rest is history.”
“Do you miss the money?”
He chewed and shook his head. “Nothing to miss.”
Her brows crunched. He explained. “My mother left me all of her money. There’s a lot of it.”
“So you don’t have to work?”
“Yes I have to work. I love what I do. If I didn’t work I’d get into trouble and that’s not something I want to do.”
“Trouble how?”
“Boredom breeds trouble. I don’t like to be bored and I don’t like to get into trouble. I keep my nose clean and work my ass off for my government salary.”
“But you know if you lost your job you’d be okay.”
“Okay how? Financially? Money isn’t everything, Pink.”
“Says the man who has as much as God.”
He nodded. “There’s truth to that.”
“How do you know I didn’t let you back in to finagle a few bucks out of you?”
His brows rose before settling. “We both know how your last attempt at extortion turned out.” He set his fork down on his plate. “You want to try again, go right ahead.”
“I don’t want your money.”
“I’ll give you whatever you need, just tell me.”
“I don’t need it. I’m doing fine.”
“Stripping?”
“I cocktail mostly.”
“Last night you stripped.”
She nodded. “Last night I stripped.”
“How is it that both of Senator Chastain’s daughters are strippers?”
“I’m sure you did your own Google search while you were out shopping.”
“I made a few calls, did a quick search, but nothing popped up on you, only your sister. Who, by the way, according the federal, local, and state databases, isn’t officially missing.”
“You checked?”
“I told you I would help you.”
“I didn’t think daddy dearest would chance letting word get out that his only child was dancing at the Surf’s Up club, but I thought he would go quietly to the authorities and have them look for her when she disappeared. Or at the very least hire a PI or something. But for the almost three months I’ve been at the Surf’s Up, there has been no inquiry that I know of about her. Except me.”
“So they were estranged?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t keep in touch.”
“I’m intrigued that a senator’s daughter who hasn’t surfaced in over three months isn’t missing, according to her family. I’ll have more to go on when I get back to my office.”
“Would you personally ask my father where she is? And when he says he doesn’t know, ask him how long he hasn’t known?”
“I’ll dig deeper into it, Pink. I promise.”
“I’d really appreciate that.”
Flynn finished his plate and set it aside. She’d barely eaten three bites. “I went to a lot of trouble fixing that for you. Eat up or I won’t give you your new phone.”
“What new phone?” He bought her a phone? Why?
He stood and dug through one of the bags and removed a small white box with an apple on it. He set it on the table. It was a brand new iPhone. She’d wanted one for forever, but couldn’t afford it. Her little Samsung was four years old.
He slid the box in front of her. “I used your SIM card to activate it. You still have your number and all of your data except texts and the video.”
She pushed the box across the table toward him. “I can’t accept this. I’ll keep my old phone, it works fine.”
Standing, he said, “Excuse me for a sec.” Then strode from the kitchen. A minute later Flynn returned with her cell phone, then proceeded to drop it on the floor. It broke into several pieces.
“Hey!”
As she stood to pick up the pieces, he crushed the main piece under his heel, destroying it. “Oops, I’m sorry I broke your phone.” He walked back to the table and sat down and pushed the box toward her. “Please accept my apology and this replacement phone and the two year replacement plan that goes with it.”