by J. Lynn
Steph was also laughing and she looked like she was seconds away from peeing herself. From that point, Katie told us about her man, who apparently none of us knew about, while I sipped my Coke. Time passed. Calla and Roxy returned to the bar. Katie stole someone’s chair and brought it over to our table.
I saw the crowd parting, making way for Brock like he was some kind of extraordinarily hot Moses.
Within moments, I saw the glazed-over shocked faces of nearly every male in the bar once they realized they were in the presence of Brock Mitchell. If I had my complete hearing, I knew I’d hear the murmurings and gasps.
Brock nodded at the girls as he took my hand and pulled me onto my feet. Tugging me close, he said into my ear. “I was missing you.”
Placing my hands on his waist, I laughed. “I haven’t been gone that long.”
“Long enough.” He kissed my neck and then my jaw.
“You two are freaking adorable,” Steph said as Nick came up behind her.
“That we are.” Circling an arm around my waist, Brock drew me to him. I went, placing my hands on his chest as he lowered his head. His lips swept over mine and then he shifted his head, speaking directly in my ear. “You doing okay?”
“Yeah.” I slid my hand up to his shoulder. “I’m glad we decided to come.”
“I’m glad you decided to come.”
Tilting my head, I smiled a little as I rested my cheek against his chest. Colton was placing a new drink down in front of Abby as he kissed her upturned face before straightening. I found Reece and Roxy next. She was back behind the bar but had her arms across the top, gripping the edge as she stretched toward Reece. He met her halfway, kissing her.
Calla was smiling at something Jax was saying. They too were behind the bar, standing in the center. She started to turn, but Jax caught her around the waist and laid one on her. The guys around the bar hooted, and when he let go of Calla, her face was as red as a cherry.
Nick was back to rubbing Steph’s shoulders and she had this dreamy, peaceful look on her face. You almost couldn’t believe she was sitting in the middle of the bar. She reached up, placing her hand over one of his and squeezing.
They all had their own struggles and stories to tell and they all made it to this point, happy and in love.
I looked to the right, and found the bright blue eyes of Katie staring back at me. She raised an eyebrow and nodded. She didn’t have to speak. I knew what that look and nod meant, and I heard her words from earlier in the night.
Still going to be rough at times, but he’s worth it now.
I turned into Brock, wrapping an arm around his waist. I felt his chin graze the top of my head, and he held me tighter as Colton shouted over the music.
Sometimes, like now, I really believed Katie just might be psychic.
I let out a happy sigh.
Deciding to come here was a huge decision, but I had no idea until that moment how badly I needed to do this—to retrace my steps in a way, and I had no idea how much it would affect me.
My shoulders were lighter.
My thoughts a little less heavy.
My heart a whole lot fuller.
Two fingers pressed under my chin and tilted my head up. Warm brown eyes stared into mine.
“You here with me?” he asked.
“I’m always with you.”
Chapter 28
I woke in the middle of the night, surprised to find a hard, unmovable body pressed against mine. The cobwebs of sleep lifted as I turned slightly. “What are you doing?”
“I missed you.” Brock’s arm tightened around my waist. “Plus, I behaved last night and stayed out of this room.”
He had . . . much to my disappointment. I’d hope he’d sneak into my room, but when we came back from Mona’s we parted ways with what was a pretty chaste kiss.
Thanksgiving had been a chaotic crazy mess of awesomeness. My family behaved as expected. They were nosy and demanding and all around lovable as they asked one question after another.
Afterwards, Brock and I had talked with my father and my uncles about our proposal to convert the two rooms into a dance studio. My father and uncles didn’t immediately scoff at the idea, but Andre looked doubtful. We laid out all the pros and cons for them, comparing cost to potential profit, and by the time the conversation was done and we lost half of them to the football game, I was feeling pretty confident about it. Dad had been eyeing those papers with that gleam in his eye, the same one he got when he saw a new recruit he knew he could shape into a winner.
“If my parents caught you in here . . .” I stopped, rethinking where I was going with that. “Actually, my parents wouldn’t care. They’d probably applaud it.”
Laughing softly, Brock nuzzled my neck. “You’re right.”
“Isn’t that kind of weird?”
He kissed the space below my pulse. “A little.”
Wiggling around so I was facing him, I threw an arm over his waist. “You are not going to be comfortable in this bed. You barely fit.”
“I’ll be fine.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “Besides, we’re just going to sleep.”
“For real?” I said dryly.
“Yep.” His nose brushed over my cheek. “As much as I want to get my mouth between those pretty legs of yours, we’re in your parents’ house. Not happening.”
A surprised laugh left me. “You are being serious.”
“Yeah, I am. Not going to disrespect your parents like that.”
“Oh my,” I whispered, giggling. “Look at you, being all gentleman-like and stuff.”
“Shut it.” He nipped at my lip.
Another quiet laugh left me. “So, I was thinking.”
“Oh no.”
I smacked his arm. “I thought the girls would be doing morning breakfast on Sunday, but they all are doing family things.”
“The shame,” he murmured, nipping at my jaw.
I grinned in the darkness. “I thought maybe we could head home Saturday. A day earlier, so we could—”
“So we have some one-on-one time?”
“Yeah,” I whispered. “What do you think? You could help me pack the books tomorrow and we can spend a little more time with my parents before heading back.”
“I . . .” His hand slid down my side and over my hip. “ . . . think that is a wonderful idea.”
“I thought you might like that idea.”
His hand slipped to my rear and he squeezed. “Now what gave you that idea?”
“I have no idea.”
* * *
The damp musk of the river was the first thing to greet us when I climbed out of Brock’s car Saturday evening.
On the way home, Brock had asked if I wanted to see his place and we decided I’d stay there. I had another change of clothing for the morning, and I was more than eager to see his home since I hadn’t had the chance yet.
Dusk was settling as Brock grabbed our bags and I picked up Rhage’s carrier. The cat hissed, and I rolled my eyes as I followed Brock up the wide set of stairs leading to a sprawling, bare porch.
“Does it go around the house?” I asked. “The porch?”
“Almost.” He fished out his keys. “It stops at the French doors in the dining room and empties out onto a patio. There’s a second-story deck you can access from the bedrooms upstairs.”
“Wow,” I murmured. His house was about fifteen minutes outside of Shepherdstown, down a dark and windy road that followed the river. All the houses we passed had been huge, so I wasn’t exactly surprised when the massive two-story came into view.
Brock opened the door and somewhere in the house, an alarm beeped. Light turned on, flooding the area. The front door opened into a massive entryway. It was a somewhat open floor plan. I could see all the way back to the kitchen.
He put the bags near the steps that led upstairs and then turned to me. “Remember, the kitchen is a mess.”
“It’s okay.”
“You say that now . . .” Gr
inning, he walked toward the back of the house, tossing his keys on a foyer table butted up against a wall.
I glanced up, taking in the exposed beams and deciding that the house had a rustic feel to it. Although Brock grew up in the city, the masculine simplicity fit him.
Brock turned the light on in the kitchen, and I got my first look at his remodel project. I was a bit awed. First off, the kitchen was huge. Lik,e it was the size of my kitchen, living room, and then some in my apartment. The counters were gone, but the positioning of the wide double fridge and unused, still-sealed wall ovens gave me an idea of how it would look once it was put back together.
Half the cabinets were off the wall, stacked side by side where a table probably normally would’ve sat. There was a large picture window above the sink.
I placed Rhage’s carrier down and walked over to the window. “Wow,” I said. “The view of the river is amazing.”
“It’s one of the reasons why I bought the house,” he said. “Nearly every room has a view of the river or the woods. Not a lot of land with the property, but it doesn’t feel that way.”
“No.” I moved to the doors leading to the patio. “You can’t even see any neighbors. Just the lights from the houses across the river. It’s beautiful.”
“The kitchen’s not much to look at, though,” he said.
I faced him. “But it’s huge, and once you get it finished, it’s going to be amazing.”
A slight smile appeared on Brock’s face.
“You could have an entire football team in this kitchen and still have room.”
The smile spread. “I don’t know about that.”
Brock set up Rhage’s stuff in the kitchen by the door that led out onto the deck, and I let Rhage out. The cat crept forward, ears flat as he took in his new surroundings. He made it about two feet and then plopped his furry butt down, his tail swishing back and forth.
“Got to say. He does not look impressed.”
I laughed as I rose. “He’s a hard cat to please.”
He shook his head as he turned to the fridge and grabbed me a drink. We lingered in the kitchen for a while, watching Rhage investigate every nook and cranny.
Eventually, Brock took me on the tour, through the dining room that was occupied by a dining set that had yet to be used. There were two living rooms. Well, according to Brock one was a living room and one was a media room, whatever that meant. I saw he had a huge-ass TV in one, and the other just had chairs and plants that could’ve been borrowed from my mom’s sunroom.
There was a study he had set up, and in there were more photos from when he was fighting. They hung on the walls, beside another large TV.
“You still haven’t unpacked completely, have you?” I gestured at the two large boxes in the corner. There had been a few in the living room as well.
He laughed as he led me out of the office. “I keep meaning to do it, but I’ve been focused on that kitchen.” He slid me a long look. “And you.”
A giddy smile tugged at my lips. “I should feel bad for sucking up your time.”
“But you don’t.”
“Nope.”
Brock picked up the bags he’d placed down earlier and led me upstairs. “There’s four bedrooms up here. I have a guest room set up. Nothing too exciting in there. Eventually I’ll do something with the other rooms.”
Following him down the wide hall to open double doors, I had to think this was the kind of house for a large family. And he wanted kids. Not an entire team of them like my uncle had, but he did want babies. I realized that maybe Brock was ready to truly settle down and start a family.
Brock moved ahead, turning on a bedside lamp, and I got my first look at his room. Like the rest of the house, it was a bit bare.
There was a wide dresser with a mirror beside doors that either led into the bathroom or closet. There was another dresser opposite the doors leading out onto the deck, and there were two nightstands. Other than a few wooden boxes on the dresser, the kind that looked like someone would stash fine tobacco in, there weren’t many personal items.
Nothing truly looked lived in.
With anyone else, this might’ve concerned me, but Brock had never been into decorating. His room at my parents’ house and his apartment when he was younger had been the same way.
My gaze roamed over the room and then stopped. I stared at the large bed in the center of the room and my stomach dipped. Tonight would be different. This I knew. I didn’t know how. Maybe it was instinct. Who knew? But tonight was not going to be like any other time.
Little knots of anxiousness filled me as I crossed the large bedroom, approaching a bay window. Pulling the curtains back, I peeked outside. Beyond the trees, I could see the moon reflecting off the slowly churning waters of the Potomac.
Glancing over my shoulder, I watched Brock pick up a small candle from the dresser and light it. He grinned in my direction as he placed the candle on the nightstand.
After a few seconds, the scent of honeycrisp apples reached me. “Are you sure you’re okay with Rhage running around?” Nervous, I fidgeted with the curtains, running my fingers over them. “He will use the litter box, but I can’t promise he won’t be into everything.”
“It’s okay.”
“He’ll destroy something. I’m positive.”
“He’ll be fine.”
Turning to face him, I watched him strip off the loose sweater he wore, tossing it onto a chair in the corner. The plain white shirt came off next, and then there was his beautiful upper body, all on display.
My mouth dried as my gaze dipped, taking in those taut ripples and those amazing indentations on either side of his hips.
Why, with a body like his, was he interested in a body like mine?
That was a question no one would ever be able to answer.
He wore no belt so those pants hung indecently low, so low I realized I could see the band of his tight boxer briefs. My gaze moved over the tattoos. He had a wolf’s head over one pec. The other side of his chest was the start of spreading wings that traveled over his shoulder and flowed into numerous designs that traveled down his entire arm. An archangel raising his sword, surrounded by flames. Underneath that, across his forearm, a skull. Red and black bands gave way to an eye above his wrist. He turned slightly, pulling his phone out of his pocket and placing it on the nightstand. I saw the edges of the phoenix rising from ashes and fire. The tattoo was huge, covering his upper and middle back.
I wondered if he’d get more.
“You like what you see?”
Flushing, I dragged my gaze back to his. “Do you really have to ask that question?”
One side of his lips kicked up and my gaze dipped once more, snagging on the silver chain around his neck. I started to look away, back to those amazing lower abs, but I saw what dangled from his neck.
My breath halted in my lungs.
My heart stopped.
My lips parted on a sharp inhale as my hand flew to my mouth, my fingers pressing against my lips.
Concern flitted across Brock’s striking features. “Jillian, you okay?”
I couldn’t speak as I stared at the tiny medallion hanging from his neck, and I felt dizzy, like I would fall right over. I recognized that necklace even though I hadn’t seen it in six years.
“Jillian?” He strode toward me. “What is—?”
“The necklace.” I let out a shaky breath. “You have the necklace.”
For a moment, he looked confused as he lifted his hand and placed his palm over the medallion. Understanding settled. “You didn’t know?”
“No,” I whispered, blinking back sudden tears.
“I found it that night,” he said after a moment. “After they took you away in the ambulance. Everything was hectic. Colton had you on your side, trying to keep the blood . . . keep you breathing until the EMTs got there, and then they did, and you were gone. I saw your purse on the ground, and I was thinking . . . I was thinking how you would have hate
d to know your purse was there, getting dirty and shit.”
Oh God.
My fingers curled against my lips as Brock lowered his hand, and I saw the sterling-silver medallion once more.
“I was gathering up your stuff and I found it on the ground,” he said. “I knew it was mine. You were always finding these things for me. I meant to tell you I had it, but . . .” He trailed off.
But everything had happened.
Things had blown up and we blew apart.
But he’d found the Saint Sebastian necklace I’d found for him and had planned to give him that night we were going to dinner.
His eyes met mine. “I’ve worn it ever since.”
He’d found it and he’d had it with him.
“For the longest time, it was the only way I could feel close to you.”
Chapter 29
Emotion cut off the strangled sound building in my throat. I dropped my hands and then I was moving without really thinking, crossing the small distance between us. I picked up the necklace, curling my fingers around it. I’d forgotten about the necklace. How, I had no idea, but I had, and he hadn’t.
Brock made this sound that came from the back of his throat. “Why are you crying?”
“Am I?” I whispered, clearing my throat.
“Yeah.” He cupped my cheeks, swiping away the tears with his thumbs. “How do you not know you’re crying?”
“I don’t know.” I lowered my head, all but face-planting in his warm chest.
Brock let out a soft chuckle as he folded his arms around me. “If I knew the necklace was going to make you cry, I wouldn’t have worn it.”
“It’s not that.” I still held the necklace in my palm, probably strangling him with the chain, but I couldn’t let go. “I forgot about the necklace and you didn’t.”
“I didn’t.” He pulled my head back, tilting it to look up at him. My blurry gaze met his. “I never forgot you. I never forgot anything you used to do.”
He was going to make me cry really hard now.
Reaching down, he gently pried my fingers off the medallion. Then he lifted my hand to his mouth. He pressed a kiss to my palm. “I kept all the little charms. There in the box on my dresser. You can check it out—”