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Brooke stared in surprise. “You brought me lunch?”“I was in the neighborhood.”She checked out the label on the bag. “DMK is twenty minutes from here.”“I was in that neighborhood, and now I’m here,” he said in exasperation. “Seriously, woman, you are impossible to feed.” He strode over and set the bag on her desk. “One cheeseburger with spicy chipotle ketchup and a side of sweet potato fries—chosen specifically for a certain spicy and sweet girl I know—and a green dill pickle for your eyes. So there.” He crossed his arms over his chest.Brooke studied him. “You seem very ornery right now.”“As a matter of fact, I am.”“Why?”“I don’t know,” he huffed. “Just . . . eat your Brooke Burger. Stop asking so many questions. Sometimes a guy just wants to buy a girl lunch. Any objections to that? Good. Enjoy your Sunday, Ms. Parker.”He strode out of her office, gone as quickly as he’d appeared.Brooke stared at the doorway and blinked.
