Beware of Geeks Bearing Gifts by Charlie Cochet – Review

“This is sad, man. What is it with you
and brownies?”

“These aren’t just any brownies,”
Spencer stated proudly as he removed his latest batch of baked chocolate
decadence from the oven. “These are Nutella caramel brownies with nuts, made
from scratch. These are orgasm-in-your-mouth brownies.”

“Not really sure what to think about
that,” Danny muttered, eyeing the brownies dubiously. “Seriously, dude. The
only orgasm you should be chasing is the one waiting next door. This is your
perfect chance! He’s defenseless.” Danny reached for a brownie, but Spencer
slapped his hand away before he could pilfer one.

“I have to spread the Nutella and top
them with walnuts. Also, I don’t know what I find more disturbing: that you
think I should take advantage of the poor guy in his defenseless state, or that
you believe the only way I’ve got a shot is to take advantage of him in his
defenseless state.” He stopped and turned to his pouting best friend. “And FYI,
defenseless is what babies and puppies are, not huge-ass mountain men in
possession of heavy artillery. I ran into him once, literally, and it’s like
he’s made out of fucking granite. He’s got an eight-pack. An eight-pack.”

Spencer had never seen an eight-pack outside
of cyberspace. Until his sexy neighbor, he’d questioned their existence, much
like Bigfoot. The sighting had taken place one morning on his way to get
groceries. Quinn had been on his way to their gated community’s pool, sporting
nothing but low-riding swim trunks and flip-flops. He’d stepped into the
elevator next to Spencer, and the heat outside had nothing on the heat that had
spread through Spencer’s body. Luckily Quinn had been too busy texting to
notice Spencer’s Human Torch impression.

“I have… I don’t even know what this
is.” Spencer lifted up the hem of his apron and the Hulk T-shirt underneath
with a frown. He ran his finger down a groove along his torso as he sucked his
stomach in. “Does this look like muscle definition to you?”

Danny reached over to pat Spencer’s
pale belly. “Looks like you need to stop baking brownies. And get some sun,
man. Look at you. You’re not even white. You’re like, transparent.”

“That’s harsh.” Spencer lowered his
clothes. “I don’t tan like you. I burn. You couldn’t lie to me? Besides, what
am I supposed to say to him? ‘Hi, remember me? I’m the guy who’s been living
next door to you for the past year. We pass each other in the hall every day,
take the elevator together, have parking spaces next to each other, have mailboxes
next to each other, do laundry in the same room together, and shop at the same
supermarket. No? That’s okay. Excuse me while I die of embarrassment.’” Spencer
walked around the kitchen counter and flopped down into a chair, waiting for
the brownies to cool. “The guy doesn’t know I exist. He’s freakin’ Miami SWAT.
He’s probably an overbearing, misogynistic asshole with a giant ego, anyway.”

Danny took a seat next to him, his
expression filled with concern. “You don’t know that. Besides, since when do
you judge people?”

Spencer narrowed his eyes at his
friend. “No one likes a smartass.”

“Says the guy who got a ticket for
mouthing off to a police officer.”

“I wasn’t mouthing off. I was being
witty and adorable. The guy just had no sense of humor. Besides, I was nowhere
near that fire hydrant. He was clearly behind on his quota. Bet that wouldn’t
have happened to Quinn.” Was he pouting? Oh God, he was. Danny was right; he
was sad.

“Probably because he’s SWAT and can
park his ginormous truck wherever the hell he wants.” Danny went to the glass
doors of the balcony overlooking the parking spaces and started laughing.

“What?”

“You know how they say dogs look like
their owners? I wonder if the same applies to cars.”

Charlie Cochet is an author by day and artist by night. Always
quick to succumb to the whispers of her wayward muse, no star is out of reach
when following her passion. From adventurous agents and sexy shifters, to
society gentlemen and hardboiled detectives, there’s bound to be plenty of
mischief for her heroes to find themselves in, and plenty of romance, too!

Currently residing in Central Florida, Charlie is at the
beck and call of a rascally Doxiepoo bent on world domination. When she isn’t
writing, she can usually be found reading, drawing, or watching movies. She
runs on coffee, thrives on music, and loves to hear from readers.

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