Counterfeit Relations (Alaskan Security: Team Rogue Book 2)

by Jemma Westbrook

  “You wanna watch a movie?”

  He turned to find her sprawled across the blankets, remote in hand as she switched on the large television across from the bed.

  She gave him a smile that barely faltered as her eyes found the plant in the corner. “Or are you going back to hide in the basement?”

  “No one will get to you, Eva. I promise.”

  She huffed out a little breath. “I know that. I’m not worried.”

  “What movie are you watching?”

  “Probably something you will hate.” Her eyes narrowed on the television. “How about John Wick?”

  “Never seen it.”

  Eva wiggled her eyebrows at him. “There’s lots of violence and murder.” Her smile was back, wide and real. “It’s about a guy who gets vengeance when someone kills his dog.”

  “Why are you smiling about that?”

  “Because he totally gets it.” She pressed a button on the remote and dropped it to the bed at her side. “Better hurry if you want to watch.”

  His gaze drifted to the big empty spot on the bed beside her.

  “I won’t bite, Broccoli.” Eva held up one hand and pressed the other over her heart. “Promise.”

  The thought of Eva biting was probably the most appealing thing he could imagine.

  Her teeth sinking into his shoulder while he—

  “You okay?” Eva’s head dropped to one side. “You looked like you zoned out there for a minute.” Her spine straightened as she stared down the stairs, lips pressed tightly together.

  She might claim to be positive those men weren’t after her, but Eva was scared. Probably wouldn’t sleep at all if he left her up here alone.

  “I think I’m just tired.” He nodded to the stairs. “I’ll be right back.”

  He hurried to load their plates into the dishwasher and get it running before changing into a pair of flannel pants and a t-shirt. After a quick brush of his teeth, Brock was on his way back up the stairs, grabbing a couple bottles of water before shutting off all the lights on the main floor and going up to the bedroom where Eva was already tucked in with an iPad in her hands.

  “Better not be telling anyone where you are.”

  “Do you think I’m stupid, Broccoli?” She peeked at him over the top of her tablet, eyes scanning him from head to toe. “Huh.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “I didn’t picture you as being a pajama sort of guy.”

  “Did you think I was going to come up here in my underwear?”

  “I didn’t think you were going to come up here at all.” She switched the iPad off and closed the cover, sliding it onto the bedside table. “Are you going to watch from there?”

  “No.”

  She lifted her brows.

  Never in his life had he hesitated to get in bed with a woman.

  He walked to the side of the bed nearest the stairs. The same side Eva was currently occupying. “Scoot over, Tatum.”

  She didn’t budge. “This is the side I like.” She snuggled deeper into the covers. “Maybe if you hadn’t been such a chicken shit last night you could have claimed it first.”

  “This isn’t up for debate.” He pointed to the other side of the bed. “Go.”

  “Do most women just go along with whatever you say?”

  “Yes.” He smiled. “And to be fair, it usually works out well for them.”

  Eva’s eyes flew open wide and her cheeks pinked up instantly.

  He was finally gaining the upper hand with her. No more knee jerk reactions to her. No more living in constant fear that the next thing she said would only make him like her more.

  “Well since I’m not interested in fucking you anymore I guess I’ll just have to take your word for it.” She scooted down, resting her head against the pillow.

  He was happy she didn’t want to fuck him. Delighted Eva planned to keep their relationship to nothing more than it was.

  Didn’t bother him at all that she only considered what it would be like to fuck him for less than two seconds.

  That’s why he leaned down and grabbed her, blankets and all, and tossed her across the bed to the side she belonged on. Brock barely made it onto his side before she had the covers flipped back and was coming for him.

  “You ass.” Her whole body lunged at him, hair flying, fingers gripping his shirt as she landed against him. “Get on your fucking side of the bed.” She pulled at the fabric of his t-shirt, one leg hooking around his as she fought to put him where she believed he belonged.

  The spot in her life she was comfortable having him occupy.

  “That looks like your side of the bed, Tatum. Might as well get comf—” The word broke off in a yelp as her fingers locked onto a healthy-sized clump of chest hair through his shirt.

  “You just thought you could come in here and take my side of the bed like you owned it.” She started to pull.

  He locked onto her wrist with one hand, keeping her from taking out anymore hair. “If I wanted to own any part of your bed I would.” He caught her other hand as it came his way, catching it before he ended up looking like he had mange when his shirt was off. “Stop it.”

  “No.” Her wrists twisted in his grip. “You aren’t as charming as you think you are, Brock Cassidy.”

  “The number of women who would argue with you is shocking.”

  She glared at him. “They just expected you to have a big dick.” Eva suddenly shifted tactics, pulling her hands back instead of pushing toward him. The change took him by surprise and she broke free.

  A second later he had her again, but this time she was even more wild. More angry.

  And probably going to take out one of his eyeballs.

  A knee bounced off his thigh, indicating her sights were on a lower set of balls. Before she could hurt either one of them, he rolled, pinning her to the mattress with his weight.

  “Get off me.”

  “Not until you calm down.” He held her wrists tight, being as careful as he could not to hurt her. “I’m not losing a nut because you’re pissed at me over something.”

  “I’m pissed because you don’t know where you belong.”

  “Don’t I?” Brock took a deep breath, trying to find the calm he needed. “Because you’ve made it very clear where I’m supposed to be.”

  “Then why in the hell won’t you just go there?” Her words didn’t carry the same anger as before. Eva shook her head. “Please just go.”

  Brock stared down at her.

  Leaving now would give him everything he wanted when Shawn dropped Eva’s file into his life.

  He could go to his cabin. Take the time he needed to right his mind. Get back to himself.

  Then when Eva was gone he could come back and life would be back to normal.

  Only it wouldn’t.

  His life would never be normal again.

  Because whether Eva left or not, he would never again be safe. His happiness already hung in the balance.

  His sanity.

  Even if Eva Tatum hadn’t shown up, he would have still been staring down potential devastation every damn day.

  “Is that what you really want? Me to go?” He loosened his hold on her wrists. If she wanted to wail on him she could.

  He deserved it.

  All he’d been feeding her were the same lies he tried to tell himself.

  That he didn’t want her.

  That he could send her back home without a second thought.

  In just under two days this woman had gnawed her way into places he’d sworn to never let anyone.

  Especially a woman.

  She stared up at him. Silent.

  “Tell me to go. Tell me you don’t want me here.” It was a dare. One he hoped she wouldn’t take.

  Brock waited, chest tight.

  He’d never cared if a woman wanted him before. If one didn’t, there were three more behind her who would.

  But there was no one behind Eva. No one he cared to see anyway.


  “I don’t want to want you here.”

  “I know.” He skimmed his hand down her arm, the tips of his fingers brushing over the softest skin he’d ever touched. “I don’t want to want to be here.”

  She chewed her lower lip. “Why?”

  “Lots of reasons.” Telling her the truth of how he came to be like he was might not ever happen. It felt too much like tempting fate.

  “Give me one.” She was no longer fighting him and it made it easy to see how well she fit him.

  He was not a small man. Most women made him feel like he had to be careful with every move he made or risk being too heavy. Too rough.

  But Eva was tall and solid, with curves filling out everywhere they should. She was the perfect combination of strong and soft.

  In every sense of the words.

  “You scare the shit out of me.” She was everything he avoided. For years he chased the women he knew would never make him think twice. Women who, as beautiful and sweet as they were, would never make him risk it all.

  Eva wasn’t like those women.

  “I get that a lot.”

  “I bet.” Brock smiled, the pressure he’d been carrying since Bess and Parker left easing a little as her lips barely curved into a whisper of a smile. “You probably scare the shit out of every man you meet.”

  And they would still come back for more because she was like a drug.

  “Something like that.” Eva’s eyes dropped from his.

  Brock eased off her. “I’m sorry I’ve been—”

  “An ass?” Eva didn’t scoot away as he stretched out beside her.

  “Among other things.” He wanted to touch her again. Feel the softness of her skin under his palm.

  But for the first time in his life he didn’t know how to act around a woman.

  Because for the first time he didn’t just want to fuck her and walk away.

  “I’m sorry I’m difficult.”

  “I like that you’re difficult.” Brock reached for the covers he’d completely displaced in his effort to prove he chose his place in her bed.

  In her life.

  “I should go downstairs.” He pulled the covers around her, tucking them between her body and his as he eased off the mattress.

  “Why?” The question sounded honest. Real.

  It made him give her an honest and real answer. “I don’t know what to do with you.”

  She watched him for a minute.

  “Same.” Eva chewed her lower lip. “I don’t trust anyone, Brock. I never have.”

  “No one?”

  She shook her head. “And as you can imagine that has caused some pretty big issues for me in the romance department.”

  “I would believe it.” He sat on the edge of the bed. No part of him wanted to leave her, even before he knew she faced everything alone.

  That’s what happened when there was no one you trusted to have your back. It would make you hard and cynical.

  But this woman wasn’t that.

  “What about your parents? Not even them?”

  Eva’s gaze hardened a second before it left his, shifting to the television. “Are we watching a movie or not, Broccoli?”

  He should go to the basement. Spend the night finding a way to want to be apart from the woman inviting him into her bed.

  But he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to be away from her.

  Especially since her eyes kept finding their way to the top of the stairs.

  He’d be damned if she spent the night alone.

  Afraid.

  Not that she’d ever admit it.

  “Pick a comedy.” He laid down on top of the covers. “I need something to laugh at.”

  CHAPTER 10

  WHAT IN THE fresh hell was going on?

  Eva dropped down the last step leading from the bedroom and stared into the kitchen. “What are you doing?”

  Brock grinned at her from his spot in front of the stove. “Making breakfast.”

  “In your underwear?”

  She’d seen it before.

  Sneakily.

  But now here it all was. On full display. A giant man in a pair of boxer-briefs, grinning at her like the cat that swallowed the canary.

  The same man who’d been scowling at her for the past two days.

  “Are you hungry, Eva?”

  Her eyes bounced up from where they’d gotten stuck. “Probably.”

  “You’re probably hungry?” His eyes crinkled at the corners. “That doesn’t sound very convincing.”

  “Okay.”

  She wasn’t making any sense, which fit perfectly in this whole situation.

  It made no fucking sense.

  “I’m making you biscuits and gravy.” Brock’s attention turned back to the pot on the stove in front of him.

  Thank God, because she was back to staring at everything he was putting out there.

  He was fucking glorious.

  Which was terrible.

  Knowing that body was on top of hers last night made her want to pick a fight with him again.

  Also terrible.

  “I don’t eat sausage.”

  Brock turned her way just in time to catch her staring at his—

  She snapped her eyes shut. “I’m a vegetarian, remember?”

  “Of course I remember.” Even his voice seemed different this morning. Smoother. Deeper. “I worked very hard to make sure this was sausage you’d be happy to try.”

  Was he flirting with her?

  Eva opened one eye and jumped back, losing her balance over the wall of bare chest staring her down.

  Brock caught her with both hands. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “You don’t scare me.”

  He did.

  “I think I do.” Instead of letting her go, Brock pulled her close. “I think I scare you as much as you scare me.”

  “Nuh-uh.”

  Shit. Of all the times to lose every bit of brain power she had.

  Eva cleared her throat. “You do not scare me.”

  “Good then.” His arms tightened around her a little more, pulling her body closer to the hard lines of his. “Because I’ve been thinking about your offer.”

  Oh God.

  “I think I rescinded that.”

  “Did you?” Brock leaned in close to her ear, the barely-there stubble across his jaw scraping her skin in the most deliciously masculine way. “Why don’t you at least try my sausage before you make any final decisions.”

  This was the most ridiculously corny, innuendo-filled conversation she’d ever been a part of.

  And lord help her, she absolutely wanted to sample his sausage.

  Because she was as corny and ridiculous as he was.

  “Is it very meaty?”

  Brock barked out a laugh that made her jump. He didn’t laugh often, and it took her by surprised every time it happened.

  “I guess you’ll have to tell me.” He stepped away, but instead of releasing her, Brock kept one arm wrapped around her waist, using it to direct Eva to a chair at the table. “How many biscuits do you want?”

  “Three.”

  His attention focused on her, one dark brow lifting. “Three?”

  “I’m feeling optimistic about your skills.”

  “You should.” Brock’s voice was soft as he once again leaned close. “I pride myself on them.”

  Why did that make her thighs clench?

  Because she was fucked. That’s why.

  He straightened, backing away. His eyes stayed on her, lips lifted at the corners in a way that made it clear she wasn’t the only one who knew she was fucked.

  “How long do you need to work today?” Brock stood at the counter, breaking open what looked like homemade biscuits onto a plate.

  “I’m not sure. I need to go through my emails and check in with Mona and Chandler. See how things are going.” She watched as he poured a heavy-handed serving of gravy over the biscuits.

  “We’ll just play it
by ear then.” Brock came back toward her, plate in one hand, cup in the other. “I made you tea.”

  “Thank you?”

  “Was that a question?” He set both in front of her but didn’t walk away.

  “Not for you.” Eva leaned to peek into the mug.

  Who in the hell was this man? Was he the sexy but crabby one that picked her up from the airport?

  Or was he whatever this was?

  “I think we got off on the wrong foot.” Brock picked up the fork next to her plate and held it out. “You seem to think I’m something I’m not.”

  Eva took the fork. “I’m not sure what I think you are.”

  He pointed to her plate. “I’m one hell of a cook for starters.”

  “Humble too.” She waited for him to go back and get his own plate.

  “I want to watch you take the first bite.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I don’t want you lying to me and telling me it’s not the best biscuits and gravy you’ve ever had.”

  “I don’t lie.” It came out harsher than she intended.

  No it didn’t.

  Lying was the basis for every life she’d ever been hired to investigate. It was always the rot that led to a person’s downfall.

  One they created themselves.

  “Not ever?”

  She shook her head.

  A slow smile worked its way onto Brock’s lips. “Good to know.”

  Eva pointed her fork at him. “Don’t even think about using it against me, Broccoli.”

  “Do you think I would do something like that?”

  “Yes.” She nodded along with the answer.

  “Smart girl.” He finally turned away, giving her a full look at his backside.

  And glutton that she was Eva took full advantage.

  “Stop staring at my ass and eat your breakfast, Eva.” He peeked at her over one wide, well-muscled shoulder. “Unless you want to tell me you weren’t staring at my ass.”

  “Fuck you, Broccoli.” She shoved in a bite of biscuit and gravy.

  Shit.

  “Who’s made you the best breakfast you’ve ever had, Eva?”

  How did he get so close? A second ago Brock was across the room, calling out her inappropriate gawking, and now he was right beside her, leaning in until she could smell the ruggedly manly scent of his skin.

  “Tell me.”

  His voice sent a shiver down her spine.