by Karen Renee
She slid her hands back into my hair. “Could say the same to you, honey,” she said, and while I wasn’t looking directly at her, I could definitely hear the smile in her voice.
Chapter Thirteen
Never Envisioned Myself Like That
Cecilia
Days went by and Brock and I struggled to find time to be together.
That didn’t mean we didn’t connect. Brock liked communicating. He texted. He called. He occasionally sent Snaps.
My Narcotics Anonymous meeting ended, and I was walking out to my car when Brock called.
“Hello?” I answered.
“Hey, honey. I didn’t expect you to pick up. Thought you had a meeting.”
I chuckled. “I did. It just wrapped up. Thought you had something on tonight?”
“I did. Got done early. You eat yet?”
I smiled. “No.”
“Your meeting was near Disney, right?”
“Yeah,” I drawled.
“I normally avoid the tourist traps, but you feel like House of Blues?”
“Sure.”
I met Brock at Disney Springs, and before we hit the restaurant, he guided me toward the Aerophile balloon ride. He had his arm around my shoulders and mine was around his waist.
I looked up at him. “What are you doing, Brock?”
He grinned down at me. “Takin’ my girl on a date.”
I smiled. “Yeah, but you don’t need to blow your money on this for me.”
“May not need to, but I want to. Already bought the tickets, honey. The sun’s setting and I always wanted to do this. Plus, it gives me the chance to make out with you high in the air.”
I laughed and nudged him with my body as we stood in line. “You are incorrigible.”
He pulled me around to face him. “Don’t you forget it, Sunflower.”
I set my facial expression to ‘serious’. “I’m afraid of heights.”
Brock stared at me a while. “You got nothing to be scared of when you’re with me, honey.”
“Maybe, but that won’t help my freak-out.”
He shrugged. “Just to let you know, Sunflower, you’re a terrible liar.”
“I wasn’t lying,” I declared haughtily.
Too haughtily.
“You’re so full of it.”
My lips quirked and I laughed at myself. “Fine! I’m not scared of heights. Just wanted to see if I could get a rise out of you.”
The line moved forward and Brock and I walked onto the balloon side by side, along with twenty other people. As the balloon ascended we moved toward an unoccupied area, and Brock pulled me so my front was snug to his side.
He stared at the panorama beneath us, but my eyes were riveted to his strong profile. My lips itched to kiss his angular jaw
His face tipped down, and I stared into his sharp blue eyes. There was a look in his eyes I couldn’t put my finger on, and it enthralled me. Unfortunately, the look cleared when he smiled at me.
“I’d ask what put that look on your face, Sunflower, but really, are you gonna kiss me?”
I blinked. “What look?”
His arm around me squeezed. “You gonna stand there, or are you gonna kiss me?”
Rising up on my toes, I slid my hand up his chest, over the ridge of his shoulder, and onto his neck. He lowered his head just enough that I could press my lips to his. I darted my tongue out to trace his lower lip, and he opened his mouth, taking control of the kiss. His mentioning making out up high hit me, but with twenty or so other people around, I wasn’t feeling that comfortable with our display of affection.
I sank down to my heels breaking the kiss. His eyes opened and there was both heat and understanding in them. It was a tough call, but I thought I liked this look in his eyes even better than the one earlier.
An unfamiliar male voice interrupted. “I’m sorry, but the two of you make a striking couple. I’m a photographer, and I’m working on my portfolio. Would you mind if I took your picture? Just two of them.”
I expected Brock to refuse, but his lips curled into a satisfied grin. “Absolutely, but only if you take those two pictures with my phone as well.”
The man took Brock’s phone, aimed it at us and I smiled waiting for the click of the camera. The stranger’s eyebrows furrowed before the flash from the phone blinded us.
“Now, look out toward the horizon, not at me,” he said.
My head tilted. “Uh, what?”
“I suspect he’s a pro, babe, why don’t we just humor him,” Brock murmured in my ear.
I gave Brock my most skeptical look, but did what the man asked.
The flash went off again, but since I wasn’t looking at the photographer, it didn’t bother me as much. “Perfect, now with my camera, if you don’t mind.”
When the man was finished, he handed the phone back to Brock. As Brock thumbed through the camera roll, my breath caught in my throat. The image of us staring at the horizon wasn’t perfect. It went so far beyond perfection, it was worthy of being on a romance novel cover. I never thought I would see myself in such a captivating pose.
“God,” I whispered.
Brock gave me another look, but began to fiddle with his phone. “There. I texted them both to you.”
“Thanks,” I said in a low voice.
With his hand around my waist, Brock guided me to the other side of the balloon. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”
His head twisted so he was looking at me from the corner of his eye. “Your reaction to that pic seems a little extreme.”
I pressed my lips together and shrugged. “Let’s just say, I never envisioned myself like that.”
He cupped my chin with his fingers. “Well, you should, Cecilia.”
FORTY-FIVE MINUTES later, we were seated inside the House of Blues and our server had delivered our drinks and the Carolina Mess appetizer Brock insisted upon. With his fork, he transferred a heaping serving of the appetizer to a small plate and put it in front of me.
“Uh, I hate to tell you this, but this is all you,” I said, moving the plate to Brock’s side of the table.
“No way, Sunflower. Like Pop always says, ‘share and share alike.’ So, eat up, baby.”
I gave him my best hard stare before I unwrapped my utensils and forked up a french fry loaded with pulled pork, melted cheese, a tiny jalapeno, and a hint of brown gravy. It was culinary overload, but in the best way. I never would have mounded french fries with barbeque, let alone put gravy on them.
Brock had taken a huge bite, but quickly chewed and swallowed it. “Tell me that isn’t heaven on a plate, Cecilia.”
I smiled. “It is good, I’ll give you that.”
He speared me with his eyes. “You shoulda gone with barbeque of some sort, not fried chicken, Sunflower.”
I shook my head. “I’ve never been here before, and MeMaw gave me a rule of thumb when at a new restaurant. Certain foods are hard to mess up. Burgers are one, but I wasn’t in the mood. Fried chicken is another, and theirs sounds like it should be really good.”
He nodded. “Fair enough.”
My eyes were on my food as I picked at it, so I didn’t see the mischievousness in Brock’s eyes before he asked, “So, when do I get to meet your MeMaw? And your mom for that matter?”
I jerked my head up, and if the way Brock’s face fell was any indicator, I must have looked like a deer caught in headlights.
He took my hand in his. “Honey, I was half joking.”
My eyebrow jumped. “Which means you were half not-joking.”
His head moved in a semi-circular nod. “You could say that. It’s just you’ve met my family, I was thinking it would be nice to meet yours.”
I hadn’t had boyfriends serious enough in the past who cared about meeting my family, and for that matter I wouldn’t have wanted them to anyway. I licked my lips as thoughts tumbled through my mind.
Finally I said, “My family is two-and-a-half hours aw
ay from here. It’s not like with your father, who can drop by because he’s at his wife’s house in Maitland. ...What is that all about, anyway? I don’t get it.”
Brock’s closed-lip smile was slow but genuine. “I’ll give you the subject change for now, Cecilia. And you’re right. The only reason Pop drops by is because of Marnie,” he paused, letting my hand go so he could sip his beer. “The deal with her having a house in Maitland is that she’s got another year or two before she fully retires. Dad’s house is paid for, and he is retired, though he does occasional consultant work. They plan to live at Dad’s once she retires. In the meantime, Dad stays with her at her place when he doesn’t have to be in Ponce Inlet.”
I nodded, but noticed Brock had a look on his face as though he were debating whether or not to share more.
“Marnie also has a couple of nieces who aren’t too far from her house. One’s going to Stetson University in Deland, and the other is at Rollins College in Orlando. They don’t live with her, but they visit fairly frequent.”
One of my eyes squinted at him. “That makes sense, but why did you seem reluctant to tell me that?”
He grinned. “They have a way of not being very nice.”
I stared at him for a moment. “You mean they’re bitches?”
The grin amplified to a beaming smile. “According to Rainey they are.”
I laughed. “Well, I’ll take her word for it then.”
His smile dimmed. “I don’t know. Remembering what Rainey said to them at Pop’s wedding, there’s a twisted part of me that would love to see what you’d do with them.”
My chin dipped as I gave him a reproachful look. “What I’d do with them?”
His brow arched. “They flirt with me and Gabe every time we’re around them. It’d be fun to see you get jealous.”
I laughed again. “What would I possibly have to be jealous of? If Rainey says they’re bitches, then it sounds like they aren’t worth the effort.”
“So, you don’t get jealous?”
“Are you fishing for an ego stroke, Brock Sullivan?”
His eyes went curious. “And if I were?”
I shook my head. “You don’t need one. But honestly, I’m not sure if I would get jealous or not. Um, I wasn’t really in my right mind with anyone else who’s even remotely acted like they were serious about me, so I just don’t know.”
He took a hefty pull on his beer and swallowed. “So, if you don’t mind my asking, when did you start using drugs?”
I sighed and pushed the french fries around on my plate. When I looked back to Brock, the waiter was putting plates in front of each of us. The fried chicken aroma made my mouth water, but my appetite had waned with Brock’s question.
Once the waiter left, I moved my plate to the side so the scent wouldn’t be in my face. “Initially I was a party girl, but it didn’t happen until senior year of high school, which always struck me strange.”
“Why?” Brock asked, as he separated the baby back ribs on his plate.
My smile was wan. “Because that was when I was finally out from behind Tennille’s shadow, so whenever I look back I wonder why I acted out. Maybe it was because she wasn’t at school, but just at home. Anyway, I went to any party I could, but being high school, that meant mainly alcohol. After graduation, I went to the same community college as Tennille, and that was when the parties changed. From nineteen to about twenty-one I was good with just booze and marijuana.”
“The illustrious gateway drug,” he muttered.
“What’s that?”
He shook his head. “Fair number of experts call marijuana the gateway drug. Not sure if I fully agree with that, but anyway, you graduated from that to what? Ecstasy?”
I took a tentative bite of my garlic mashed potatoes. They were really good, mainly because they were so rich.
When I swallowed, I nodded. “Yeah, I did quite a bit of that. Fairly easy to come by in the clubs back then. At some point a guy offered me a hit of coke. I was trying to brush him off, telling him I was tired. It was the truth, though I would’ve likely had a second wind, just not half as quickly as with the coke.”
His expression was somber while he nodded at me. “Eat your chicken, honey. I didn’t mean to weigh you down with that, I was just curious.”
Chapter Fourteen
No Slouch with Bar Fights
Brock
I had finished my ribs when a man slid in next to Cecilia, draping his arm along the back of the booth. A surge of possessiveness gripped me until I saw it was my buddy, Clint Ramsey. His shit-eating grin irritated me even more. Dressed in jeans and a crisp white dress shirt with the top three buttons open, I couldn’t say if he was here to pick up women, or if he was here on business.
“What the hell are you doin’, Clint? And how about you get your arm off the booth?”
He turned his head to enhance his side-eye coming my way. “Now, Brock, you got nothin’ to worry about from me. Told you I wanted to meet your girl, and since you’ve been dragging your feet–”
“I haven’t been dragging my feet, asshole.”
His chin dipped. “Whatever.”
He turned to Cecilia and put his hand out toward her. “I’m Clint Ramsey. Known Brock for years, but I’ll wait until he hits the head before I spill all his secrets.”
She smiled at him while she quickly wiped her hands off, then shook with Clint. “Cecilia. Nice to meet you. Are you in classes with Brock?”
Clint threw his head back and laughed and Cecilia turned widened eyes to me. I shook my head at her, but Clint beat me to speaking.
“No. Not even close. Met his ugly mug when he moved to town.”
“Don’t tell her that story,” I muttered.
That got me Cecilia’s eyes, her brows furrowed. “Why?”
I chuckled. “For one thing, he’ll tell it wrong. For another, he was drunk as hell, which is why he always tells it wrong.”
Clint stroked his heavily-stubbled chin. “All my best stories involve lots of beer, man.”
Which was another reason I wasn’t keen for Cecilia to hear it.
“Besides, you saved my ass that night, man,” he added.
Smiling, I picked up my beer, tipping it toward him. “Regretted it ever since.”
Cecilia turned to Clint. “So what’d he save you from that night?”
Clint shot me a devilish look with his chestnut-colored eyes before he turned to Cecilia. “Not one, but two burly-ass bikers.”
“They weren’t bikers,” I muttered.
Cecilia arched her brow at me. Clint was undeterred.
“Don’t listen to him. Thinks he knows all, just because his older brother is an outlaw.”
“Those fuckers were riding crotch rockets.”
“Which technically is a bike,” Cecilia said to me with a smirk.
“Not even close, baby.”
“They were wearing those damn jackets with the built in pads and shit. Two of them taking my drunk ass on until Brock decided to wade in.”
“Speaking of ‘wading in,’ how did you even know I was here?” I asked.
Clint’s expression changed and for a moment he looked at something past my shoulder, then back to me. “I didn’t. Workin’ a job, but I noticed you two when my subject went to the restroom. Get to give you hell and meet your woman, it’s win-win all around.”
Cecilia stiffened a little. “Are you a cop?”
Shaking his head, Clint said, “Private. Pays better and far less political bullshit.”
“Ah,” she said.
“This guy tells me you work for the Mouse. You like it?”
Cecilia wobbled her head. “For the most part. I’m auditioning for a character performer position in a couple weeks.”
Clint stared at her for a moment, and from the look crossing his face I knew I wouldn’t like what he said next. “Let me guess. Cinderella?”
“No,” she scoffed. “Elsa, ideally, but whatever. I just want the chance to sing and
perform.”
“Ambitious,” Clint said, looking at me.
“I’m sure if she puts her mind to it, she can land the role.”
“You heard her sing?”
I shook my head, but enjoyed watching Cecilia blush.
“How do you know she can land it if you’ve never heard her sing?”
Clint lived to stir the pot, and I knew he didn’t care whether or not Cecilia could sing.
“Don’t you have a ‘subject’ to keep an eye on, man?”
“Yeah. And I’m doin’ that just fine even if I’m sittin’ here next to your woman.”
His arm inched closer to Cecilia’s shoulders.
“You could do it better back at the bar or wherever you were before.”
“Now why would I do that when I can sit next to a beautiful woman and give you shit at the same time?”
“Because nobody likes to be the third wheel,” Cecilia said.
He looked to her. “You’re smart, so why are you with DJ Van here?”
“Clint,” I bit out.
“Fine, fine. Nice to meet you, Cecilia. Good to see you again, Brock, though I can see why you’ve been scarce lately.”
“Get outta here, asshole.”
He slid out of the booth and slugged me on the bicep before he sauntered back to the bar.
“Later,” we muttered at each other.
Cecilia’s eyes held pensive skepticism. “He’s big enough, I’m not so sure he would’ve needed your help against two guys in a fight.”
My eyebrows went up as I thought about it. “You would think that, but these two were as big or maybe even bigger than him.”
“So you’re no slouch with bar fights.”
“Got two brothers. We never went easy on one another.”
Regret crossed her face. “Saw that first hand... I should’ve remembered that.”
Moving my plate to the side, I leaned forward and grabbed her hand across the table. “You don’t need to remember that.”
Her eyes glittered at me, and it turned me on for some perverse reason. “You don’t understand, Brock. My shit always comes in between me and others. It’s bad enough how it’s changed my relationship with my sister. I don’t want it do the same thing to you and your family. And let’s face it, you wouldn’t have shoved Gabe around like you did if it weren’t for me and my problems.”