“Like a shirt, or something.” Eva’s answer sounded off.
“What kind of shirt?” Brock tipped his head, trying to catch her moving gaze.
“It was a shirt for a music group I like.”
She was being purposefully evasive.
“What group?” He already knew the answer. Felt it to his bones.
“New Kids on the Block.”
Brock dropped back, wiping one hand down his face. “Christ.”
“Don’t give her shit for liking them.” Harlow’s eyes narrowed on him. “They were huge.”
“I don’t care that she fucking likes them.” Brock leaned in close. “For the love of God, tell me it wasn’t the shirt you were wearing when I picked you up at the airport.”
Eva’s eyes moved over his face. “How do you remember what I was wearing?”
“Shit.” He wanted to drag her away, hide her somewhere she would be safe from herself. “Someone left a shirt on your porch and you’ve been wearing it around?”
“Not around. Just at home.” Her brows lifted. “I washed it a bunch of times first.”
“I don’t care how many times you washed it.” He was burning that fucking shirt the second they got back to the house. “You can’t use gifts from stalkers.”
“It’s vintage!”
“So you potentially accepted a gift from the man who stalked you five years ago?” At least Shawn was struggling just as much as he was with this.
“No.” Eva looked from Shawn to Brock. “It’s clearly not the same guy. One took my shit, one brings me shit. Two totally different things.”
Harlow was watching the whole interaction with her pen braced between her teeth. Finally she tossed it onto the table. “So I feel really bad right now, but I gotta side with them on this.” She shook her head. “This is probably the same guy.” Her head tipped to one side. “But your ability to rationalize this shit away is impressive as hell.”
“It’s not rationalizing. I’m just looking at it all objectively.” Eva touched both hands to the table gently, bouncing them as she spoke. “When I got a protection order Howard backed off immediately. He got the point. He realized I wasn’t interested in him, and I’m sure the same thing will happen with this.”
“Howard didn’t want to go to fucking jail is what happened.” Harlow blew out a breath. “Let’s see where good old Howard is living now.”
“It’s not Howard.” Eva’s eyes moved to Brock. “It’s not Howard.” Her assertion sounded more like a plea now.
“It’s probably Howard.” Harlow didn’t look away from her computer. “But that’s good news. He went away once, he’ll probably go away again.”
Suddenly Eva straightened in her seat. “If it’s Howard, then who were those guys at the store?” She smiled wide.
Like somehow this revelation was a better option.
“Maybe they’re not involved at all.” Harlow looked up at Dutch. “Did you run the plates on the Charger?”
“Stolen.”
Eva’s attention fixed on Dutch. “They were stolen?”
He nodded. “Reported this morning.”
Shawn and Dutch shared a knowing look.
“That would definitely make this more interesting.” Harlow tapped her pen as she rocked back in her seat.
Eva’s smile slipped. “What would?”
“Those guys might not have been after you at all.” Harlow closed her computer and stood up.
“That’s good.” Eva let out a breath and went in for another pita chip.
“Not really.” Harlow scooted behind Eva’s seat.
“Why, not really?” Eva dragged her chip through the hummus she refused to throw at Dutch.
“Because it means they were probably after Brock.”
****
“I DON’T UNDERSTAND why someone would be after you.” Eva hadn’t stopped staring at him since they got in the Rover.
“It’s complicated.” Brock forced his attention to stay on the road. He couldn’t look at her. Not right now.
“Do they know where we’re staying?”
We’re. He didn’t miss the way she put them on the same team. He also couldn’t miss the way it sat in his gut. Warm and solid. Grounding
“Probably.”
“So why in the hell would we go back there?”
“Because we have to.” He knew Eva was as smart as she was quirky, but until this afternoon Brock hadn’t realized just how similar her skills were to Harlow’s.
Eva was the digger of dirt. The revealer of scandal.
And didn’t like having the tables turned on her one bit.
She leaned in closer. “Are these people dangerous?”
“Very.”
If Harlow was right, it was going to be nearly impossible to tease out one issue from the other.
“And we’re just supposed to go back and sit there like ducks?”
“We’re supposed to go back and act like we think everything is connected to you.” Brock passed the beat-up van parked a few houses down the street.
Tyson and Nate were already in place, eyes and ears on the townhouse. As they coasted by, his phone started to ring over the speakers. He connected the call. “All good?”
“Everything’s clear. We did a sweep. If anyone’s been inside they didn’t leave a trace.”
“Good.” Brock turned into the small drive and punched the button on the opener, pulling in and shutting off the engine as he sent the door back into place.
Eva sat perfectly still, staring out the windshield at the blank cement wall.
“Everything is going to be okay. I promise.”
She nodded. “I know.”
He wanted to reach for her. Find a way to calm her fears. Help her understand he would never let anything happen to her.
Before he could, she was out of the car and at the back, opening the hatch and grabbing the groceries they bought what felt like forever ago.
Eva was silent as they went inside and put everything away.
Didn’t say a word as she lined a few ingredients down the counter and pulled out a pan.
“Talk to me, Eva. Tell me what you’re thinking.” The mind was a powerful thing, and hers was running wild right now. Brock could see it in her eyes. Probably coming up with all sorts of scary scenarios and dangerous possibilities.
He didn’t want her to be scared.
She stood very still, one hand on the knob to the gas cooktop, her socked foot tapping silently on the floor. Finally she turned to him.
“Was Harlow right?”
“I don’t know. She and Dutch will do everything they can to figure out who those men were.” Brock stepped a little closer, the need to comfort her growing stronger with each passing second.
Eva was away from home. Away from her friends and family.
Thought she was alone.
She barely shook her head as he reached her side. “That’s not what I was talking about.”
“Wha—”
“When you kissed me. Was it because of those men?” There was no hesitation in the question. None.
He shouldn’t give her the truth. So much was already on the line, dragged there by a stalker-shirt-wearing, off-key-singing, bringer of metaphorical death. “Partly.”
“What was the other reason?” Her lips rolled in, sliding against each other, reminding him of how they felt against his. Soft and warm and—
Fucking right.
“Because I had to.” He’d kissed many, many women.
Always because he wanted to.
None of them were like this one.
None of them made him need.
“That’s the same thing.” She turned back to the stove, clicking on the flame before putting her pan over the heat.
Dismissing him.
“It’s not even close to the same thing.” Brock moved closer, craving her attention. Wanting it.
Maybe needing it.
“You had to kiss me so those guys thought we were t
ogether. I get it. It’s fine.” She drizzled a little olive oil into the pan.
“Is it fine?” Brock caught a bit of dark hair falling over one of her eyes and tucked it behind one ear.
“Of course it’s fine.” She grabbed a handful of pale white cubes of something or other and tossed it into the hot pan. “Why wouldn’t it be fine?”
“Because you want me to kiss you again.” He traced the shell of her ear with one finger. “Don’t you, Eva?”
“I have no opinion on that.” Her eyes stayed locked on the pan of food, never veering his way.
He continued the touch, dragging the tip of his pointer to the soft skin just behind her ear. Sliding over the dip just below her lobe. Down the line of her neck. “Tell me you want me to kiss you, Eva.”
“No.” She aggressively stirred the contents of the pan.
“Say it.” Brock grabbed the handle of the pan and slid it off the heat, catching her wrist as she reached for it and dragging her closer.
He’d listened to all the fucking stupid ways she’d put herself in danger. The threats Eva minimized until they were small enough she could handle them.
Heard her rationalize everything away.
And all it made him think of was all the times she could have been hurt. Maybe worse.
The thought of anything bad happening to her sat hard and heavy in his belly, burning for more reasons than Brock was ready to deal with right now.
He looped her arm around his neck and laced his fingers into her hair, the soft strands sliding over his skin like silk.
“I don’t like being kissed out of obligation, Brock.” Her face was twisted into a scowl. “I understand why you did it, but I think it’s best it doesn’t happen again.”
“I disagree.” Brock lined her body against his.
Her ringed eyes stared up at him. “Why are you doing this?”
She was giving him every opportunity to come to his senses, and that’s exactly what he should do. Back away from the woman changing the fabric of his life with every breath she took. Do what it took to keep her safe and then let her go before it would be an impossible task.
But it might already be too late for that.
“I think you know exactly why I’m doing this.”
Eva’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t have any idea what I know.”
He reached out to trace a line that started at the center of her forehead and ended at the tip of her nose. No woman ever looked at him like she did. She could be considering him naked one second and contemplating punching him the next. “Why did you ask me if I was interested in a casual fuck?”
Her lips pursed. “I don’t know.”
“Liar.” He twisted the knob on the stove, killing the flame. “You thought we could have a little fun while you were here, and then you could go right back to business as usual and never give me a second thought.”
Isn’t that what he’d done for so many years? What he claimed to want to continue to do?
And would be doing if Bess and Parker hadn’t come along and fucked him all up.
Made him want what he knew would kill him.
And Eva was only making it worse.
“A few months ago I would have taken you up on it, you know that? I would have had you under me before you took your next breath.” Brock pushed against her body, pressing Eva away from the cooktop and toward the corner where two lines of cabinets met, boxing her in. “But now I can’t.” He braced her body, careful not to press her into the edge of the counter. “And it’s driving me fucking crazy.”
The whole damn thing was making him crazy.
She was making him lose his mind.
“Why couldn’t you just be like everyone else? Why couldn’t you have just been another woman?” He spread his hands across her back, sliding one up and one down, groaning as more of her body pressed into his. “Why did it have to be you?”
“What are you talking about?” She sounded genuinely confused. Like she really didn’t know how irresistible she was.
How addicting.
One damn day. It was all it took for her to make him question everything.
Make him consider if the risk was worth the reward.
Because Eva Tatum might be one hell of a reward.
His hand fisted into the heavy mass of her long hair, holding on. “Let me kiss you again.”
Her head barely shook. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
Brock was positive it was a bad idea.
Maybe the worst he’d ever had.
Because the more he got of her, the more he wanted.
The more he needed.
And needing a woman could kill him. Leave him a dead man walking.
But for the first time in his life Brock didn’t care.
“I didn’t ask if you thought it was a good idea, I asked for permission to do it again.”
Her eyes dropped to his lips. “You didn’t ask last time.”
“Last time I did what had to be done to keep you safe.” Brock traced the line of her jaw with one finger. “Let me kiss you, Eva.”
“Does this mean you want to have a friends with benefits sort of thing after all?”
He shook his head. “We’re not friends.”
She deflated a little. “Oh. So just the benefits, then?”
He couldn’t help but smile at her. He’d been so worried about his own lines he hadn’t noticed Eva was trying to lay down a few between them herself. “If you want benefits then I’d be happy to give them to you.”
Her breath caught just a little as his fingers trailed down her neck and over her collarbone, sliding along the neckline of her sweater. “What kind of benefits are we talking about?”
“No fucking.” He didn’t mean for it to sound so abrupt, but fucking this woman right out of the gate just seemed wrong.
Too fast.
And he’d lived a life of being fast. Always skipping straight to the act, moving fast enough there was nothing to feel.
Nothing to want.
But Eva made him want to slow down. Savor every bit of his time with her.
Memorize the curve of her shoulder. The soft slip of her hair through his hands.
“It doesn’t sound very beneficial of an arrangement then.” Her hands stayed clasped between them, fingers laced tightly together. “I think I’ll pass.”
Brock froze. “You think you’ll pass?”
Eva nodded. “Probably not worth it if there’s no penetration.”
CHAPTER 8
BROCK HADN’T SAID a word in a very long time.
Just stared at her.
The vein in the side of his head throbbing a little more with each passing second.
Eva stood tall. She learned a long time ago most people didn’t appreciate her straightforward tendencies, and Brock appeared to fall into that category.
Oh, motherfreaking well.
“What’s a matter, Broccoli? You look a little upset.”
“Not upset, Sunshine. Just working real hard to find a way to give you what you’re asking for.” He inhaled long and loud before leaning down, eye to eye, hands holding onto the counter at her sides. “Define penetration.”
“If you don’t know what penetration is then I’m not interested at all anymore.”
“Why do you keep lying to me?”
“I don’t lie.” She snapped it out at him. It was the reason she was like she was.
Because everyone lied, and saying exactly what she meant made her different.
The sins she saw and bathed in every day were never her own.
Eva pushed off the counter, crowding him. “If you don’t know how to properly fuck a woman then I take my offer back.”
Brock didn’t back down. Didn’t look the least bit intimidated by a move that had made countless men shrivel over the years. A strong woman could be a terrifying thing. Especially one who knew what she was and owned it.
“Define penetration, Eva.”
She pointed in his face.
“If you think you can finger bang me and I’ll be satisfied then you are very wrong, Brock Cassidy.” She stabbed at him. “I’m not some little girl dying for a boy’s attention. I can get anyone I want, anytime I want.” She barely smiled at him. “Maybe I’ll go across the street. See what Tyson’s up to.”
Brock’s whole body went completely still. “Do you want to watch me kill a man?”
She laughed. “That’s awfully dramatic.”
Brock didn’t look amused. He actually looked something else.
Something that made her pause. “Have you ever killed anyone?”
He stared at her silently.
Holy shit.
“Um.” Eva scooted out from the corner he had her backed into. Brock stepped away, his eyes following her as she moved. “I think I’m a little tired.”
She made it to the base of the stairs leading to the top floor before his voice stopped her.
“Eight.”
Eight. There was no mistaking the meaning behind the number, and it left her staring at the steps as reality sank in.
The man behind her was a killer.
Eight times over.
She slowly turned to face him. “Who were they?”
“Men who didn’t deserve to live.”
It was a simple answer.
One she understood more than most people.
She knew men like that. Every day she found their demons, lined them up, and displayed them for the world to see.
But knowing the world would be better off without someone in it and actually making that happen were two different things. “Does it bother you?”
He barely nodded. “Sometimes.”
For the first time Brock seemed small. Vulnerable.
Eva walked toward him. The thought of him suffering now because of her questions dug into her belly with an uncomfortable ache. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I know.” He didn’t reach for her like she thought he might.
He’d just spent the past ten minutes nearly pressed against her and now she felt a little empty.
Sad. For him. For having to live with the things he’d done.
“So, is Alaskan Security...” Finding a way to finish the question was difficult. “Are you all mercenaries?”
Chandler found them. Said this was the best company in the country. That it was the only possible way to deal with what was happening. Eva never looked for herself. Didn’t think it mattered.
Counterfeit Relations (Alaskan Security: Team Rogue Book 2) Page 7