Counterfeit Relations (Alaskan Security: Team Rogue Book 2)

by Jemma Westbrook

  And fuck it all he wouldn’t shut up.

  “Tell me I’m the best you’ve had.”

  This man should be weaponized. He could topple women into bed with nothing more than a few suggestive phrases.

  The only way to win a war with him was to fight back in kind.

  Eva straightened in her seat, leaning a little closer as she licked her lips. “You are the best I’ve ever had, Brock.”

  It seemed like a good idea.

  Like she might be able to poke at him the same way he was poking at her.

  In hindsight it might not have been her smartest move.

  Or maybe it was.

  It could go either way honestly, because a second after it was out of her mouth, Brock had her out of her seat and pulled tight against his almost naked body, one hand spread across her back and the other shoved into her hair.

  “You make me absolutely fucking crazy, you know that?” His lips grazed hers as he spoke. “I feel like I’m losing my grip and I don’t know how to fix it.”

  “I’m sorry.” Apologizing wasn’t something she made a habit of doing. Apologies were like lies. A tool people used against others so they could continue to do what they wanted.

  But nine times out of ten they didn’t mean it.

  “Are you sorry, Eva?”

  She almost nodded.

  But it would have been a half-truth.

  “Sort of.”

  He smiled, the hand on her back pressing higher, holding her closer. “What are you sorry for?”

  “That I’m making you crazy.” Her hands were caught between their bodies, palms pressed into the warm skin of his chest. It was so darn tempting to move her fingertips until they found the patch of dark hair covering his sternum and pecs.

  “What aren’t you sorry for?”

  She bit her lip, trying to find a way to avoid the honesty she was so proud of always offering. If she gave it to him everything would change.

  And nothing would change.

  Because at the end of the day none of this mattered. It couldn’t.

  She was damaged. Unable to give the thing every relationship had to be built on. It was the reason she was alone.

  The reason her engagement fell apart.

  Eva took a breath. Brock deserved the truth of what she was and would never be, and better to get it out now before either of them wished she was different.

  Before Eva tried to believe she was.

  “Brock, I—”

  The sound of the doorbell cut her off and sent Brock spinning with her tucked tight against him, his body blocking her view of the door and windows leading to the walk-up porch as he all but carried her to the short hall that ran behind the kitchen to the half bath on the main floor.

  “Who the fuck is that?” Brock’s voice was a low growl.

  “I don’t know? How in the hell would I know?”

  One hand clamped over her mouth while the other pressed against his earpiece.

  “I swear to God if you’re wrong and you put her in danger I will—”

  His eyes narrowed.

  “Fuck you, Reed.”

  Brock’s gaze moved to hers as his hand eased away. “Stay here. Don’t move until I come back to get you.”

  Eva started to lean toward the doorway as he stepped away. Brock moved back in close, his body pushing her backward as the bell rang again. He didn’t stop until she was in the bathroom. “Lock the door and don’t come out for anyone but me or Reed, understand?”

  “But—”

  He shook his head. “No buts. I need you to listen to me. Please.”

  She huffed out a breath. “Fine.”

  Brock smiled. “That’s my girl.” He locked one hand around her neck and pulled her in, pressing his lips to hers in a fast kiss.

  And then he was gone, closing the door silently. “Lock it, Eva.”

  His voice was already far away.

  Too far away.

  He was going to answer the door in nothing but his underwear. No weapons.

  Not even any freaking socks.

  What if it was those men? What if they really were after Brock and came here to grab him and drag him off to God knows where?

  He would freeze to death.

  Eva leaned against the door, pressing her ear to the smooth wood. She held her breath and listened.

  Brock’s voice was there. Low and calm.

  And it was joined by another voice.

  A woman’s voice.

  And didn’t she sound happy as shit at her current situation.

  “You must be cold.” The words dripped with suggestion.

  Before she could think through the ramifications of her actions, Eva was out the door and down the hall. Marching into the living room ready to—

  “Hey.”

  That was the extent of her plan, which meant she was now facing down a less-than-happy looking Brock and a beautiful flower delivery woman.

  No sense trying to run away now. The damage was done. Her only option was to power through.

  Luckily the woman at the door immediately threw her a bone. “Oh my gosh. These must be for you.” She smiled wide at Eva and held out a huge vase of roses. “They are so pretty.” She winked. “Someone must love you a lot.”

  “Someone must.” Eva stepped in and took the flowers, feeling guilty about her earlier feelings toward the woman.

  Blaming someone for appreciating a mostly-naked Brock was about the most hypocritical thing she’d ever done.

  He gave the woman a tight smile. “Thank you. Have a nice day.”

  “You too.” She held one hand to the side of her mouth and leaned toward Eva. “Keep him warm.”

  “Okay.” Eva managed to smile even as Brock’s eyes found her and stayed.

  The woman turned and hustled down the long flight of shoveled and salted stairs to a white florist van parked against the curb.

  Brock closed the door, his gaze never leaving Eva.

  She stared at the flowers.

  Because they seemed safer than he did right now.

  And they were probably sent by someone who might be crazier than she thought.

  “You were supposed to stay in the bathroom until I came for you.” Brock took the large vase from her, removing the barricade giving her some sense of security. He set it on the long table running behind the plaid sofa in the living room. “I can’t keep you safe if you don’t listen to me, Eva.”

  She had no argument. None she wanted to share with him.

  Because her reasons for rushing out of the bathroom were impulsive and fueled by unfounded jealousy.

  Brock stalked closer. “Why did you come out?”

  “It was an accident.”

  She could swear it looked like he might smile. “You accidentally came out of the bathroom when a pretty woman was flirting with me?”

  Shit.

  Shit.

  Double shit.

  “I didn’t know she was pretty.”

  He chuckled at that. “So the thought of any woman flirting with me had you running into potential danger.”

  “That’s not what happened.”

  “Then enlighten me.” Brock was almost against her, his closeness forcing her head back so she could look him in the eye.

  “I don’t want to.” She pressed her lips together. Lying wasn’t an option.

  But neither was the truth.

  Because the truth made everything seem very complicated.

  Not nearly as complicated as everything seemed when his hands came to rest on each side of her face. “You were jealous.”

  All Eva could say was nothing. She shouldn’t give two shits if a woman flirted with Brock. Hell, she shouldn’t blame them at all. He was beautiful and charming and thoughtful and funny and—

  Shit.

  Brock’s lips pulled into a smile as they came toward hers. “You like me, Tatum.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.” He knew her weakness. She’d served it to him on a silver pl
atter.

  “I would imagine not.” His hands moved down until they rested on her hips. “You don’t seem thrilled about it.”

  “I said I don’t want to talk about it.” She gasped a little when he pulled her against him.

  “Fair enough.” His lips brushed hers. “Then maybe you should consider letting me occupy your mouth another way.”

  Brock occupying her mouth was a dangerous thing to consider. She’d offered him no-strings fun and he’d turned her down flatly.

  More than once.

  And the longer she was around him, the more clear it became she might not be capable of giving him that anyway.

  Who could blame her?

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “I’m sure it’s probably not.” He made another pass across her lips. “I think we should do it anyway.”

  The air in her lungs slid free on a soft sigh. One of resignation.

  She leaned into him, relaxing into the heat of his body, letting him hold her tight.

  No one had ever watched out for her. That must be what this was. She was just finally feeling like she had someone in her corner. Someone whose sole purpose was to make sure she was okay.

  Because she’d paid him to.

  Shit. She couldn’t even convince herself of that anymore.

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “Because I want to.” Instead of finding hers, his lips moved to the line of her jaw, skimming their way toward her ear. “I wish I didn’t.” He nipped at the skin just below her earlobe. “Tried not to.” The nip turned to a gentle suck. “But you are fucking irresistible.”

  Before Eva could argue with his assessment of her, Brock’s mouth finally covered hers.

  He’d kissed her before, but that was under duress. To prove a point.

  This was completely different.

  This was real.

  It could be overwhelming if she let it. If Eva thought about what might be happening.

  What the fallout would be because of it.

  “Stop worrying.” His lips moved against hers, soft and sweet as his hand moved from her hips to her back, one sliding up to press between her shoulder blades and the other sliding down to cup her ass.

  How long had it been since she’d given in to something like this?

  It had been never.

  Giving in wasn’t something she did. Being with a man was all about control. Emotional management.

  Keeping things nice and neat and detached so when the lies came they didn’t hurt.

  But controlling this man would never be an option. Brock wasn’t the kind she could reign in. Push into place.

  He made that very clear last night.

  “This is crazy.” She didn’t mean to say it. Didn’t even mean to think it.

  Because admitting the insanity of it was also admitting the existence of this thing between them.

  The thing that had been there since the first time she laid eyes on him.

  When she tried to casually meander past him at the airport and ended up tripping over her own feet at the sight of him up close.

  The way he took care of her in ways he didn’t have to.

  He could have let her freeze. It wasn’t his job to keep her warm or fed. Only to keep her from being victimized by a non-threatening pseudo-stalker.

  Who might have just sent her flowers.

  To a place he shouldn’t have been able to find her.

  CHAPTER 11

  THE FRONT DOOR bounced open behind him.

  “Who sent the fl—”

  Reed came to a dead stop in the center of the living room. Brock didn’t turn to face him.

  He didn’t give a shit about Reed right now.

  All he cared about was the woman in front of him.

  “Go downstairs and start packing my shit up.” Brock didn’t look away from Eva and he sure as hell wasn’t letting her go.

  Reed silently hurried down the stairs.

  Eva’s eyes moved to where the large arrangement sat on the table. Without a word she stepped away, pushing out of his embrace to grab the card from its tiny plastic pitchfork.

  She ripped the envelope open and pulled out the small rectangular card, her face unreadable as she stared at it.

  “What does it say?”

  Instead of answering she simply turned the card around.

  Found you

  “Go pack.” He tapped his earpiece. “You there, Tyson?”

  “I’m here. Harlow’s looking for the florist’s system now trying to find who sent them.”

  “How’s it look out there?” Brock followed Eva up the stairs to the bedroom and started collecting her toiletries from the bathroom.

  He needed her the fuck out of here.

  “Nothing. Street’s quiet.”

  “Good. We’re packing and will be out in ten.”

  Eva was stuffing clothes into her suitcase when he came in. “Don’t miss anything. I don’t want that motherfucker sniffing your panties while he jacks off.”

  “That’s a visual I didn’t need.” Eva slammed her case shut and zipped it closed before dropping it to the ground at her feet. “Ready.”

  “Good.” Brock grabbed her bag with one hand and used the other to hold one of hers. “Come on. I want you out of here.”

  She followed him down the stairs but slowed as they passed the kitchen, her eyes dragging across the table. “I didn’t even get to eat my biscuits and gravy.”

  “I will make you all the biscuits and gravy you can eat as soon as I know you’re safe.” He kept moving, pulling her along as he rushed down the stairs toward the theater room where Reed was just finishing up. He tossed a stack of clothes at Brock.

  “Everything else is packed.”

  Brock caught the pile, reluctantly dropping Eva’s hand as he pulled on the jeans and thermal shirt. “I need someone to get everything out of the kitchen and bring it to headquarters.”

  “Done.” Reed was already on his way back up the stairs.

  “Why are we going to headquarters?”

  “I need to touch base with Harlow and Dutch before we leave.”

  “Leave?” Eva sounded a little panicked for the first time. “Where are we going?”

  “Somewhere no one will find you.” Brock shoved his feet into the boots beside the door.

  “Can I still check in with Mona and Chandler?”

  He grabbed his bags and stacked them in the hall next to Eva’s. “Only if Harlow is there with you to make sure you don’t say anything you shouldn’t.”

  “What does that mean?”

  He grabbed her, pulling Eva close. “It means I love how honest you are, but right now that could be a huge fucking problem.” He kissed her, intending for it to be nothing more than a peck.

  But this woman made him forget everything he’d ever known. Made it seem like it didn’t matter.

  And now the person who brought her into his life was flexing his muscle. Proving he could find her if he wanted.

  Flaunting his ability to hunt a woman who was nowhere near as scared as she should be.

  All of it put him on edge.

  She was the only thing that cleared his head. Helped him find the focus he needed right now.

  Brock pulled her closer, holding her body tight to his. His breath came easier as her body softened, her lips parted.

  The woman was sex incarnate, and if she attacked the act with half the enthusiasm she went after everything else with, he was a dead man walking.

  Reed cleared his throat from the doorway, waiting until Brock finally managed to pull away from Eva long enough to glance his way. “Time to go.”

  “Come on, Sunshine.” He kept one hand on her at all times, letting Reed help load the bags into the back of the Rover while he got Eva situated in the front seat. “You ready?”

  She nodded.

  He closed her in before jogging to the driver’s side and climbing in as Reed got into the back seat.

  Eva turned t
o give Reed a smile. “Do you want to ride in the front?”

  “Nope.” Brock rested one hand on her thigh as he waited for the garage door to lift. He tapped his earpiece and waited for Tyson.

  “You’re clear as far as I can see.”

  “You have backup coming for you?”

  “Nate and Abe are ten minutes out.”

  Taking Reed with them meant Tyson would be alone in the van until Nate and Abe arrived, but it had to happen.

  Because there was a worst case scenario digging into the back of his brain. One that was worse than a panty-sniffing stalker.

  Those flowers might not have been meant for Eva.

  Brock backed out of the garage and immediately pulled away, driving in the opposite direction of the van where Reed and Tyson had been camped out.

  “This isn’t the way to headquarters.” Eva spun to look out the back window. “Where are we going?”

  “We are just being extra careful.” He squeezed her knee. “Just relax. Everything will be fine.”

  Eva might not think lying was ever the right thing to do, but he disagreed. Sometimes it was the best option available.

  Like now.

  Because the second the townhouse was out of sight, a dark sedan pulled out of an unmarked drive.

  In a different situation Brock would have told Tyson immediately, but Eva was the most important thing right now, and no way would he scare her. Not unless he absolutely had to.

  Reed’s eyes caught his in the mirror before dropping to his cell where he was punching out a message.

  The sedan stayed far enough behind to make it an obvious tail. One that had his hold on Eva pressing tighter with each passing second. Each matched turn.

  “They’re following us, aren’t they?” Her eyes slid to the side mirror on her door.

  “Yes.”

  “Who is it?”

  Brock looked to Reed.

  “Dutch is working on it.” Reed shifted in his seat, pulling the gun strapped to his leg from its holster. “No front plates so he’s trying to tap into the city’s traffic cameras to see if he can catch the rear plates.”

  “They’ll be stolen.” Eva leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes.

  Brock’s attention snagged on her, resting long enough to make him miss the changing of a light. He sailed right through the red, never even tapping the breaks.

  Making it seem like he was trying to get away.