to cover the fact he hadn’t anticipated this particular problem. “Katy’s at least two inches taller than you.”
“So I noticed,” Jake drawled, amusement lighting his sharp brown eyes. “But then, it’s been my experience height doesn’t matter to women nearly as much as . . . length.”
Forget the goddamn newspaper ads; Gunnar would call this bastard’s enemies personally.
“What’s the matter, Wolfe?” Jake drawled on, openly grinning. “You rethinking your choice of sabbatical hidey-holes now that you’ve sized up your competition?”
And he was starting with his list of cuckolded husbands.
“I might put in a good word for you to Niall,” Jake added, the sudden seriousness in his eyes contradicting his casual tone, “for the name of that snitch in Brussels last year who—”
“Fworry,” Katy said as she walked into the light of the fire, chewing while also licking her fingers. “I cwoudn’t find the cwandy, but—” She stopped talking and finished chewing while wiping her hand on her pants, then stopped in front of Jake and held the bottom half of a plastic box in front of him. “I found the homemade cookies my mother made that I kept smelling all the way up the interstate last night. Go on, take two,” she said, tilting the box enough for him to reach inside. “They’re chocolate chip and have been the grand champion cookie three years running at the Pine Creek Artisan Festival.”
Gunnar frowned, even more confused. According to the evidence on her chin and lips, Katy apparently liked chocolate.
“Thank you,” Jake said as he took two of the cookies. He bit into one and grinned up at her as he chewed. “I can see why,” he said. “Did your mother by any chance give you the recipe? Because the house I just bought, which happens to be right on Bottomless, has a fully equipped gourmet kitchen if you ever feel like baking up a batch.”
She turned away with a laugh. “I hope it’s also equipped with smoke detectors, because I usually set them off just boiling water.”
Gunnar couldn’t believe the bastard was continuing to dig his own grave.
Katy walked over and held the box down to him. The firelight accentuated the curves of her body. “Take three,” she whispered. “Heroes who jump into cold rushing streams to save children deserve extra.”
What the—did she just wink at him?
Well, hell. Gunnar decided there must be Scots blood someplace in his family tree, because he was thinking any male over the age of ten should have to ask permission just to talk to Katy—him being the one exception, of course.
* * *
* * *
Having gotten pretty good in the last three weeks at distracting her mind from trying to fill in what her memory obscured, Katy scowled up at the ceiling of her cubicle and decided that, for tonight’s entertainment, she would give herself a good scolding. Because really, what could have made her bring up Gunnar’s former occupation in front of a non-Atlantean? And if that hadn’t been enough of a blunder, she’d almost mentioned Atlantis by name.
She may have gotten blindsided this morning, but forty-eight hours away from the gorgeous hunk of a man should be enough time to get used to her sudden and powerful attraction to him. Somewhere deep within, a tiny warning light flashed, but Katy scowled and turned her attention elsewhere. Officer Sheppard, for starters. What in the world should she do about him?
She smiled, remembering how she’d almost burst out laughing when Jake and Gunnar had started in on each other like two roosters who’d just discovered a new hen in the coop. She couldn’t help being flattered by Jake’s obvious interest, but she’d shot straight into giddy schoolgirl mode at the realization that Gunnar had been acting rather . . . territorial.
But then her scowl returned. She knew only too well what could happen when two males found themselves attracted to the same woman. Heck, when her brother Brody and Greg Lane had both gone after Betty Miller their senior year of high school, the posturing idiots had been so busy one-upping each other to impress the girl, it had been mid-July before either of them realized Betty had moved to Texas a week after graduation.
But unlike Betty, Katy didn’t need boys—or in this case, men—fighting over her in order to feel feminine and desirable.
It certainly helped soothe a badly bruised ego, though.
So how in heck was she supposed to discourage Jake? Because she’d never really been in the position of having to deflect a man’s