A second later Brock was out of the car, leaving her to process what he said.
He had to be kidding.
No way would they—
He was back before she could fully wrap her head around it, climbing into his seat, then pulling the SUV into the garage. Instead of closing the door Brock left it open as he jumped out and rounded to her side.
And opened the door.
Eva stared at him. “What are you doing?”
“Being a gentleman.” He held one hand out to her. “Come on out.”
“Uh. I can do it myself.” What in the hell was going on? She leaned forward to peek out the car and through the still-open door. “Aren’t you going to shut that?”
“In a second.” Brock grabbed her hand and tugged her forward. She toppled out and into his waiting arms. One banded around her waist and the other slid up the center of her back to tangle in the hair at the nape of her neck.
Eva stared up into his eyes, unable to do anything else.
He was warm. Freaking cozy as shit, even without a coat in the freezing Alaska air.
The sound of the garage door going down barely registered.
“Good job.” Brock released her so fast she almost lost her footing as his big body immediately stepped away. “That looked believable as hell.” He glanced her way over one shoulder as he walked toward the back of the car. “You’re a hell of an actress.”
CHAPTER 3
SHE WAS A terrible actress.
And he was fucked.
Brock pulled Eva’s grandma-covered suitcase from the back hatch and dropped it to the cement garage floor. “Go inside.”
This woman definitely did not like being told what to do, and that might be his only saving grace. He glanced up at where she was still standing in the chilly garage, his coat pulled tight around her shivering body. “Now.”
Instead of the irritation he was banking on inspiring, the woman who was proving to be a pain in his ass smirked. “I think I’ll wait for you.”
Of all the damn jobs for Shawn to give him, he had to dump this one out.
A month ago Brock would have had no problem with it. He would have charmed his way into Eva’s good graces, keeping her safely where she belonged.
Out from under his skin.
But Bess and Parker came along and fucked all that up. Planted seeds he never intended to sow.
And he’d planned to dig them out while they were gone visiting Wade’s mother in Florida. Clear his mind of any stupid ideas it might try to form about life and happiness and love.
He knew what love did to men.
What women like Bess and Harlow and Eva did to men.
They fucking ruined them.
Brock pointed to the door leading to the basement of the three-story townhouse. “Go.”
He’d never been an asshole to a woman in his life. Not even close.
But this one was as dangerous as the other two fucking him up right now. It was written all over her in big bold letters.
Eva’s smile widened. “Do I bother you, Broccoli?”
He slammed the hatch into place and walked her way, deciding maybe a little intimidation might be a viable option.
Most people in their right mind backed down when they faced him.
But if there was one thing he knew about Eva Tatum, it was that the woman most definitely was not in her right mind.
“As a matter of fact you do bother me.” He stopped just in front of her, staring down into her wide eyes. “You’re making this job a whole hell of a lot harder than it has to be.”
He’d never said anything more true in his life.
Brock thought he had her when it became clear she didn’t know the plan was to pretend to be lovers. He expected the revelation to knock her down long enough he could gain the upper hand.
But when he’d held her close, Eva looked anything but knocked down.
He was used to affecting women. Had seen desire and lust in more than a few gazes sent his way.
But the way Eva looked at him was different. Open.
Unabashed.
And he needed to put a stop to it.
“You said that already.”
Brock blinked. “What?”
“You said I was difficult. And...” Her ringed eyes drifted to one side. Then the other. One finger popped out from the front of his coat. “A pain in the ass.” She smiled at him. “If you want to offend me then you’ll have to be more creative. I hear those two almost every day.”
Who the fuck told her she was a pain in the ass every day?
Eva’s eyes widened. “That was a mean look.” She scanned him, forcing Brock to once again resist the urge to straighten. “I can see why you’re a bodyguard. You probably scare the shit out of most people.”
“Not you, though.”
Eva shook her head a little. “No. Not me.” She gave him an apologetic-looking smile. “Don’t take it personally. I think it’s a case of systematic desensitization.”
The fuck did that mean?
Eva sighed, loud and long. “I’m hungry.” She turned away, leaving him with a growing list of questions.
Ones he shouldn’t give two shits about the answers for.
Didn’t matter who told this woman she was a pain in the ass.
Or why she’d faced down enough angry men that she was no longer scared of anyone.
Brock scratched at his arm as he dragged the grandma bag to the door Eva left open in her wake.
It’s what he was caught up in. The lingering ripples her presence caused.
And they were threatening to drag him under.
Already.
“Oh. This is nice.” Eva was moving between the rooms on the bottom floor. She flipped a switch and her face lit up along with the room. She took a few fast steps in and jumped over the back of a large, black sectional, her body bouncing on the overstuffed cushions. “I was afraid this place was too good to be true.”
Brock barely stepped into the black-painted room, eyeing the large screen taking up the wall opposite where Eva was laid out, her long dark hair falling over the side and reaching nearly to the floor. “I thought you were hungry.”
“Are you going to frown at me every time I see you?”
“You mean all the time?”
Her brows came together. “No.” Eva sat up slowly. “I mean when you come to take me out.” Her long legs dropped to the floor and she stood.
Brock resisted the urge to smile. Not only was Eva Tatum unaware they were playing pretend, she also didn’t realize they would be playing house.
“That’s not how this works.” Brock stepped closer, ready to make one more grab for control of the situation and the woman holding it tight in her grip. “This isn’t a part time thing, Eva.”
“But—” For the first time she deflated.
And he fucking hated it.
A woman who was so full of life should never be tamped down. Not by him or anyone else.
Which meant he was going to have to nut up. Find a way to keep her from making him cross lines that were more akin to cliffs.
One wrong step and he would never be able to hang on tight enough to avoid the eventual fall.
And the end that came with it.
The problem was he was already too close to that eventuality.
“I’m staying here.” Brock said the next words like they weren’t a potential death sentence. “With you.”
She scoffed. “But that wasn’t part of the deal.”
“You’ll have to take that up with your best friend Shawn.” Brock backed out of the room. “You want me to find my own room?”
Eva’s temporary unbalance was gone in an instant. She smiled. “That’s fine.”
“Fine.” If she thought it was fine then he thought it was fine.
It was fine.
Brock made his way up the steps, each one away from her making him feel better and worse at the same time. He was going to lock himself in his room and stay there. The less
he was around her the better.
Because Eva’s presence could be addicting.
The main level was all open space, with a kitchen, living room, and eating area all looking out a huge, floor-to-ceiling window that faced downtown Fairbanks. The place was nice as hell. Contemporary and sleek.
Reminded him of the place he should be right now.
Straightening out his fucking life.
Brock kept moving, taking the last flight of stairs two at a time. He was dropping her bag off and then barricading himself in for a nice, long attitude adjustment.
Brock stopped as he hit the top of the steps. “You’re fucking kidding me.”
“What’s wrong, Broccoli?” Eva stepped beside him, still wearing his coat. Her head tilted to one side. “Oh, shoot. That’s right.” She looked over the completely open top floor. “Only one bedroom.”
He’d faced down men who killed for a living.
Hell, he was one.
He’d been shot at, hunted, tied up, and a whole list of other things most people wouldn’t survive.
He was better than this. Stronger than this.
If he didn’t want to let this woman rattle him, then she wouldn’t.
“Looks like.” Brock turned to face Eva, steeling himself against the feelings he thought didn’t exist in him. “You’re sleeping on the right side.”
Then he turned his back on her.
Because Eva needed to realize this was not going to be her show to run. Brock shoved her wheeled suitcase toward her side of the bed and dropped his own on the side he claimed for himself.
“You can’t sleep in bed with me.” Eva moved in beside him.
“I can.”
She was already shaking her head. “No.”
“You say that a lot for a woman who doesn’t know the meaning of the word.” Brock unzipped his case and flipped it open.
“Oh, God.” Eva stepped back, her eyes wide on the contents of his packed bag. “You cannot stay in this room.” Her gaze was still locked onto the neatly folded line of clothes.
“Should of thought of that before you rented a one-bedroom place.”
Her chin tucked in and her eyes snapped to his face. “I didn’t know someone was going to have to stay with me the whole time.”
Brock turned to fully face her. Eva was finally starting to lose her stronghold, and he wasn’t letting up until she knew exactly who was in charge here. “Not someone.” He stepped closer, forcing her to tip her head back if she wanted to see his face. “Me.”
Eva was silent.
For the first time since she’d dropped a cup of fruit punch on his boots, the woman didn’t say a word.
And he fucking wished she would.
Because instead of attacking him with a verbal spar, Eva assaulted him with something infinitely more deadly.
Her sweet scent drifted up between them, riding the soft breath easing between her parted lips. Her dark hair was messy and wild, a perfect parallel to its owner. Her cheeks were still flushed pink from the cold Alaska air.
Or something else.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
“I can’t help it.” The honest answer was immediate and unhindered.
Because Eva Tatum didn’t pretend to be anything she wasn’t. He’d known her all of two hours and there was no doubt in his mind she would take him to his knees, just like Bess did to Wade.
And he couldn’t let that happen.
No matter how much the idea had tried to grow on him since Bess and Parker arrived in his life.
“You have to help it.” Brock moved in closer. “Looking at me like that isn’t going to do either of us any favors.”
“Why not?” The innocence in her question caught him off guard.
“Because I’m not the guy you’re looking for.”
“Who said I was looking?” Eva eased closer to him.
“I don’t do relationships. Not ever.” He was confessing all his dirty sins. Laying out the life he’d led out of self-preservation and fear. “I’m a good time and that’s all.”
Her eyes dropped down to his chest, moving slowly over his shoulders before lifting back to his face. “Are you a fuckboy?”
“What? No.” He loved women. Loved how they smelled. How they tasted. The way they softened under his touch.
And he respected them enough to make sure each one knew what he was capable of giving them.
Just sex.
“It sort of sounds like you’re a fuckboy.” She lifted her shoulders. “If you just screw women and then bounce, then that’s a fuckboy.”
“I don’t just screw women and bounce.” Her simplistic summary of his post pubescent life didn’t sit well. “I don’t hide what I am, Eva. They know and are happy to participate anyway.”
“Of course they are because,” one hand flapped around, motioning to his body, “of all this ridiculousness.” She stepped closer, her chin lifting higher so her distinctive eyes could stay locked onto his. “But don’t think for a second at least a few of them thought they would prove you wrong.”
He shook his head and forced out the next words. “They wouldn’t.”
Eva needed to know. Needed to see him for what he was. That way she would stop looking at him the way she did.
“Well I know that, but most women believe they will be the reason a man changes.” She stepped away, taking her almost palpable energy with her.
Robbing him of it.
“Most women believe a man like you just doesn’t know what he’s missing, and that they will be the one to show you.” She shrugged out of his coat and draped it on a chair in the corner as she moved to her suitcase.
Brock stared at the shed coat.
He didn’t like that she took it off.
It was keeping her warm.
“Aren’t you still cold?”
Eva looked around like she could see how warm the air was. Hell, maybe she could.
“No. I think it’s comfortable in here.” She lifted her grandma bag, grunting as she hefted it up.
“I got it.” Brock rounded the bed and grabbed the suitcase, taking it out of her hands and setting it next to his. “You should have told me you wanted it on the bed. I would have put it there for you.”
Eva’s brows came together. “You’re a strange man, Broccoli.”
“I’m strange?” He pointed to her bag. “You have your grandma on your suitcase and are wearing a shirt that’s probably older than you are.”
“At least I’m consistent.” She raked her fingers through her hair, pushing it off her face and working it into a wad at the top of her head before wrapping a band around it. “You’re all over the place.”
“I’m not all over the place.”
She snorted and started digging through her bag. “Okay.”
He’d had enough. He needed to get away from this whole damn situation for a while. Unfortunately, his options were limited.
“I need a shower.” Brock grabbed a pair of boxers and a shirt from his bag and slow turned in the room.
The upper floor was entirely open, with the exception of the toilet, which was tucked into a corner closet next to the glassed-in shower.
“What’s a matter, Broccoli? You shy?” Eva grinned at him, her taunt was clearly meant to rile him.
And he was done playing with her for today.
Brock stomped down the stairs, all the way to the bathroom in the basement. The shower there was tiny as hell, but at least it was private.
And he needed some fucking privacy.
He locked the door and stepped under the scalding hot spray, scrubbing away the frustration of the day.
Of the month.
Of his life.
He could never have what other people took for granted.
Ignorance.
The blissful unawareness that let people believe happiness and love lasted forever.
That it wouldn’t crush you in the blink of an eye.
It was a lesson he learned early a
nd carried with him every day. A lesson he’d been reminded of not long ago.
He’d seen the pain love could cause. The way it could bring a strong man to his knees. Break him in an instant.
Brock closed his eyes and let the water burn into his skin.
Except when he closed his eyes all he could see was Eva’s moon water eyes staring up into his, full of truth and life.
Her lips parted.
For him.
Waiting.
Brock shut the water off and bumped out the door, toweling off as he walked to the theater room.
No way could he be in the same bed as her.
Eva Tatum was going to get that big bed all to herself tonight and every night until he packed her belly laughing, boy-band-shirt wearing, old-man-helping ass up and shipped it back to Ohio.
Safely away from him.
CHAPTER 4
“WHAT IN THE hell are you doing?”
Eva ignored Brock, instead taking a deep breath and focusing on the stretching of her muscles. The air moving in and out of her body.
She’d heard him coming up the stairs, and the soft pad of Brock’s bare feet up the risers was enough to take the Zen she’d been working on since five and throw it out the giant window beside her.
“Trying to find my calm.” Eva didn’t open her eyes.
No reason to look at him anymore.
Or any less.
Broccoli was a good-looking pile of man. One she hadn’t seen the likes of before.
He was taller than any man she knew. Broad enough that his height didn’t seem so staggering.
And those eyes. She could get lost in them. Had a few times already, which didn’t seem to make him very happy. It would figure she would be stuck in a house with a man like him. This whole mess just got crappier and crappier.
“You’re fucking it all up too.” Eva opened her eyes, not looking his way until she took a jab at him. “I thought you were going to be my snuggle buddy last night?” When her eyes found him, the air rushed from her lungs.
Good thing she got the words out before the sight of Brock stole the functioning part of her brain and sent it sailing into the gutter.
He’d looked at her many ways in the few short hours they spent together yesterday.
Like she was crazy.
Like she was the biggest pain in the ass he’d ever met.
Counterfeit Relations (Alaskan Security: Team Rogue Book 2) Page 3
