15 Minutes

by Bethany Lopez

  “She’ll come,” I assured Shelly. “I know there’s a history, and most of it isn’t good, but I think if you give her another chance, and she lets you see who she really is, you’ll change your mind about her.”

  “I look forward to it,” Shelly said, her lips turned up sweetly. Then she beat me to the punch when she added, “And, don’t worry, I’ll talk to Sasha and Gaby, give them a heads up. I don’t want her to be uncomfortable.”

  At her words, I knew I was right to come to her, but at the same time… “I don’t want to take away from your day, Shel; this shower is about you and your family. I wouldn’t even bring this up if I thought there would be a scene.”

  She nodded and accepted my hug when I leaned in to take her in my arms.

  “Thanks, Shelly, we’ll see you on Sunday,” I said in parting. Giving her a quick kiss on the cheek, I let myself out of her office.

  I stopped at a coffee house on the way back, then entered my office with a grin when I saw Victoria seated at the desk. She was all business, her hair perfectly straight, makeup done immaculately, and the sweetest little pinstripe number I’d ever seen, but what brought a smile to my face was the pen resting between her lips, and the smudge of ink on her cheek.

  She looked so damn adorable.

  I sauntered over to her desk, placing a small white bag and to-go coffee cup on the only clear space, before bringing my thumb to her cheek to wipe away the smudge.

  “Hmmm … what?” Victoria jerked back. She’d been so in tune with what she was doing, she hadn’t realized I was there.

  “Easy,” I murmured. “You have some ink right there.”

  She brought her gaze to mine, and either my touch, nearness, or both, caused her pupils to dilate. My body responded immediately, but I remembered where we were and stepped back, breaking our contact.

  “I brought you one of those Chai things and a sandwich,” I told her, indicating the stuff I’d left on the desk. “Brady head to lunch?”

  Victoria glanced at Brady’s empty desk, as if she hadn’t realized he was gone, then the light dawned and she said, “Oh, yes, he said he was grabbing lunch and some stuff that Brendan needs for dinner.”

  I was about to ask her to pack a bag for tonight when the door open and Craig came bowling in. He stopped abruptly when he saw me standing there, his face growling red as he stammered, “Oh, hi … Brock. I’m just punching in … Um ... I had baseball this morning … Brady said it’d be cool.”

  I chuckled as he gestured and fidgeted nervously. Craig had been with us for the week, and all of the guys agreed that he was an asset to the team. Young, strong, and eager to please, he had already become one of the guys.

  “It is,” I assured him. “How’d it go?” Asking about the game. “You ready for college ball?”

  “Yeah, it’ll be a challenge, but I’m looking forward to it.” Craig gave Victoria a smile and nod, then turned back to me. “Well, I’m gonna get to work.”

  “You do that, kid.” After he punched in and exited in the same flurry of movement with which he’d entered, I turned to Victoria and exclaimed, “I’m tired just watching him.”

  She smiled slightly, then put her serious face on and said, “I’ve talked to the guys, and they can get everything moved out of here this weekend so that the carpet can be laid first thing on Monday. We will move in the pieces that you are going to keep on Tuesday, but it may be best to work out of your house all week, until we get the furniture delivered.”

  I’d decided we’d work out of my house during the renovation. It had worked fine before I’d got the office space, and although we had a lot more employees now, a week wouldn’t be too bad.

  “Sounds good. I’ll make sure the guys know.” I started to go to my office to do just that, when Victoria called my name, stopping me in my tracks.

  “Thanks for lunch,” she said, a strange expression on her face.

  “Anytime, babe,” I replied, then added. “Six o’clock tonight … pack a bag.” I gave her a wink, and exited the room.

  Chapter 14 ~ Victoria

  Standing outside the door of Brock’s Spanish-style home, I was suddenly overcome with nerves. Sure, I’d been working side by side with Brady all week, but that was different than being at a family dinner with his brothers. Did this mean I was Brock’s girlfriend? He’d said he was looking for fun, not a relationship … Was I blowing things out of proportion? And, what about Brendan? I hadn’t met him yet, although I knew that he had a thing with my sister … Would he like me? What would happen if he didn’t?

  I’d almost talked myself into turning around and going back home when the door opened, and the entryway filled with Brock. His hair was wet, with tiny drips of water escaping his hair to run down to the towel he had wrapped around his neck. My gaze followed one wayward drop, which somehow managed to bypass the towel and trail down his naked chest. I’d had fantasies about that chest. So broad and muscular, with the perfect amount of hair smattering the surface. I lowered my eyes and noticed he was wearing swimming trunks, when his low chuckle stopped my perusal.

  I lifted my head to see him grinning down at me, obviously enjoying my blatant approval of his body.

  “You wanna come in?” he asked, stepping back to allow room for me to enter. “I just took a swim, but I’ll only take a minute to get ready. I’ll show you where you can put your bag.”

  Brock took the Coach duffle bag from my hand and guided me down the hall to the master bedroom. I’d stolen a few glances along the way, noticing that the overall feel of the house was very comfortable, and homey. The perfect place to raise children. I wondered if it was still as it had been before his parents had passed away.

  I looked around the obviously masculine space and asked, “Isn’t this your room?”

  Brock was in the process of toweling off, but he stopped what he was doing and answered, “Yes, it is.”

  I looked around, hoping to conceal my embarrassment, and asked, “Should I really be staying in your room with your brothers in the house?”

  Brock threw his head back and laughed. The deep jovial sound was so contagious that I had to will myself not to smile in response.

  “First of all, we’re all adults here, Tori. Second, Brady actually has a house down the street, so although he’s here for dinner, he’ll be sleeping in his own bed. Third, Brendan comes and goes as he pleases, and we don’t get in each other’s business when it comes to who sleeps over and who doesn’t. You don’t have to worry about it,” Brock assured me. With every word he’d gotten closer, so now he was standing close enough that I had to tilt my head back to look at him.

  I nodded, understanding what he was saying, but I wanted to make sure he understood what I was saying, so I countered, “Okay, I get it, but, Brock, I really wouldn’t feel comfortable being intimate with your brothers in the house.”

  Brock smiled sweetly, his eyes crinkling at the sides, causing a little of the tension to leave my body. He brought his hand up to cup the back of my neck, then lowered his lips slowly to mine. Right before they touched, he said, “I promise to be a perfect gentleman,” then he finished his descent and kissed me softly, yet thoroughly, and I felt the rest of my tension dissipate.

  He pulled back, resting his forehead against mine momentarily, then asked, “You good with that?”

  I nodded and he pulled away, going to his dresser to pull out a pair of jeans, some boxers, and a T-shirt. He put his fingers to the waistband of his swim trunks, and I burst into action, scurrying out of the room before he dropped his trunks and I forgot to be embarrassed about his brothers being in the house. His sharp bark of laughter followed me as I hurried down the hall, following the sound of male voices.

  “Hey,” I said timidly, entering the kitchen to see Brady sitting on a bar stool at the counter as he talked with Brendan, who was grating fresh Parmesan.

  Both men looked up at my greeting. Brendan lifted his chin in a silent hello, and Brady replied, “What’s up?”

 
“Do you need any help?” I asked, stepping up to the counter near Brendan.

  “Nah, thanks, I’m just putting the finishing touches on the baked ziti. The garlic knots will be done in a minute, and then it will be time to eat,” Brendan replied as he spread the cheese over the top of the delicious-looking ziti.

  “Would you like a glass of wine?” Brady asked, indicating the bottle of Shiraz that was breathing on the counter.

  “Yes, thank you,” I replied as I rounded the counter to join him on the stools.

  Brady poured a glass and handed it to me, then sipped his wine as he looked at me thoughtfully over his own wine. “What do you see in my brother?”

  I sputtered the wine I’d just sipped, taken aback by his somewhat insulting questions. Although I wasn’t sure if it was insulting to me, or to Brock.

  “What do you mean?” I asked obtusely, wishing Brock would hurry up and rescue me from this conversation.

  “Well,” Brady began, looking at me pointedly, allowing his gaze to peruse me, from head to toe. “You’re classy, obviously from money, and you strike me as the wine and caviar type. And Brock, well, Brock is kind of a caveman.” This earned a laugh from Brendan, who was watching us with interest as he finished up dinner. “I mean, my brother’s a total badass and I love him, but he’s into beer and anything he can make on the grill. You two don’t exactly make sense.”

  My back went ramrod straight as his words hit home.

  “Relationships are made up of more than what people like to eat and drink,” I replied haughtily. “Your brother is strong, funny, and one of the most caring people I’ve ever met. You may be correct in your superficial assumptions of where I come from, but Brock challenges me to try new things, and I like that.”

  The red haze cleared from my vision, and I noticed both brothers grinning at me.

  “You’re pretty hot when you get pissed,” Brendan said on a laugh.

  “Yeah, Brock must have his hands full,” Brady added.

  My first instinct was to lash out at them both and bolt, but I was stopped when Brock’s hand came to my shoulder, pressing down slightly to hold me in place.

  “Easy, Tori.” His voice was a low rumble in my ear. “They’re just having fun with you, they don’t mean anything by it.”

  I breathed in deeply, and worked on calming myself down, when Brock said, “Alright, guys, that’s enough. Victoria doesn’t have any brothers, so she doesn’t realize that you’re just fucking with her.”

  “No offense meant,” Brady said, his smile soft as he held up his hands.

  I nodded and gave him a small smile, realizing I was going to have to get used to full-grown men teasing me if I wanted this thing with Brock to go anywhere. It wasn’t something I was good at judging, and I finally grasped that the reason I’d never been able to get along with TJ when Scott and I were together was because I never knew if he was joking or serious, and I chose to take offense at everything he said.

  I needed to do better with Brock, because I knew if I couldn’t get along with his brothers, we had no chance at a future.

  “Let’s eat!” Brendan exclaimed, carrying the steaming dish into the dining room.

  Brock helped me off the stool and we followed him out of the room. I sat down at the already-set table, impressed by the fact that these men sat down for dinner, rather than just sitting in front of the TV with paper plates. Although, this could all be for my benefit. Either way, I was impressed.

  Brock walked out, coming back a few seconds later with a beer, and I smiled at the knowledge that Brock was going to drink beer while the rest of us had wine. I don’t know why it made me smile, maybe because Brock was genuine. He wasn’t going to act like someone he wasn’t, no matter what the circumstance.

  “So, Brendan, I believe you know my sister, Abigail.” I was eager to find something to discuss with Brock’s brothers and this seemed like a good place to start.

  Brendan looked up from plating his food, a long, dark piece of hair coming untucked from his ear and falling in front of one eye.

  “Yeah, I know Abby. I didn’t realize you were sisters,” he said, brushing the hair back from his face. “She’s a fun girl.”

  I frowned momentarily, wondering what he meant by that, but before I could comment Brady cleared his throat and asked, “How’s everything going with the redecoration, Victoria? Still on track for Monday?”

  I turned to him with a smile, happy to talk about what was currently my favorite subject.

  “Yes, it’s all going according to schedule. They’ll start with the carpet on Monday, and I hope to have everything in place and ready for you all to move back in by the end of the week. The following Monday at the latest.”

  “Cool, I’m on tap to help the guys move stuff out on Sunday. You gonna be there, Brock?” Brady asked his brother.

  Brock took the dish from Brendan and began heaping some ziti on his plate. I tried not to stare, but I couldn’t imagine consuming that much food in one sitting. He passed it to me and replied, “Victoria and I have this baby thing on Sunday, but I’ll stop by after, see if you still need help.”

  Brendan started laughing, and had barely finished chewing when he muttered, “I can’t believe you’re going to a baby shower. Victoria, you have to get pictures, preferably of Brock wearing a bonnet, or whatever stupid shit they make you guys do at these things.”

  “Suck it,” Brock replied good-naturedly. “It’s for Shelly and Cal, or else there would be no way in hell I’d be going to this thing.”

  “Whatchya got tomorrow?” Brady asked, taking the ziti from me to fill his plate.

  “I was thinking we could take Victoria mudding,” Brock responded, causing me to pause before taking my first bite.

  I turned to him, noticing Brendan’s shocked face, and asked, “Mudding?”

  I didn’t know what it was, but based on the title alone, I doubted it was something I would enjoy.

  “We take out four-wheelers out and run them through the mud,” Brock said simply, a devilish smile playing on his lips.

  Before I could protest, Brady shouted, “There is no way that Victoria here is the type of girl who wants to go mudding.”

  Even though I’d just been thinking the same thing, my back straightened and I turned to glare at Brady. “And why is that?” I asked.

  “Well, look at you,” he replied, and I knew he was taking in my cap-sleeved cashmere sweater and Dolce & Gabbana jeans. “You don’t exactly strike me as the type to like to get dirty, let alone go out and do it on purpose.”

  I whipped my head to Brock, who was watching me quietly. Whether he was waiting to hear my answer or to see how I’d handle the situation, I had no idea, so I came up with an excuse. “I don’t have anything appropriate to wear.”

  This was the honest truth. I didn’t have any “play” clothes.

  “You can wear something of mine,” Brendan piped in, smiling at me as he popped a garlic knot in his mouth. “I’m sure I have some jeans and tees that would work.”

  I had noticed that Brendan wore his clothes tight, and they probably would fit … So I took the challenge on Brady’s face and said, “Alright, I’m in.”

  I flushed with the look of pleasure that crossed Brock’s face, and decided to turn my attention to eating the amazing food in front of me.

  “This is so good, Brendan,” I praised, practically groaning as I took a bite.

  “Thanks,” he replied, then addressed his brothers. “I’ve got us a gig next Friday night, that work for both of you?”

  They both said it did, then the three of them talked music for a bit. Once dinner was over and we cleaned everything up, Brady headed back to his house, and Brendan disappeared into his room.

  I was following Brock, suddenly nervous about being alone with him in his bed. I knew I was being silly, since he’d already slept over at my house, but I couldn’t help the nerves that were fluttering through me. When we got to his room, he opened his window and said, “Smells
like a storm’s coming through.” Then he turned on some music and paused, his hands at the fly of his jeans.

  “Will you do me a favor, Tori?” he asked suddenly.

  “Sure.”

  He opened his drawer and pulled out a black T-shirt with the Whiskey Heat logo on it, then tossed it my way.

  “Wear my shirt to bed?”

  I held it in my hand, confused, and wondering if he didn’t like the nightgowns I wore. “Why?”

  Brock moved slowly toward me, almost like a predator stalking his prey. He brushed my long, straight hair away from my face. “Because I like the thought of you sleeping with my shirt next to your skin.”

  My breath caught and my pulse quickened at his words. I didn’t trust myself to speak without giving away the effect his words had on me, so I simply nodded.

  He smiled down at me, dropping a quick kiss on my forehead, before stepping back and beginning to undress.

  I turned and let myself into his master bathroom to wash my face and change into the shirt. Once my face was scrubbed and I had on his band shirt, which actually hit beneath my knees, covering more than my nightgowns did, I pulled back my hair into a ponytail and looked around the bathroom.

  It could use a little updating, but it was surprisingly clean for a man’s bathroom. I looked at a cupboard and drawers, then back at the door, an overwhelming urge to snoop suddenly popping in my head. I shook it off and forced myself to leave the room rather than invade Brock’s privacy.

  When I opened the door, Brock was already laying in bed, a few pillows stuffed behind his head. He had one leg thrown out and over the covers, and one arm behind his head. His eyes were closed as he listened to the music and maybe the rain that had started falling outside. He looked so peaceful, and so handsome, that he took my breath away.

  I shuffled quietly over to the bed, smiling when Brock opened his eyes and turned his head slightly to watch me. I turned back the covers and eased myself into bed. His free arm reached out to pull me closer, so I settled in and laid my head on his chest. I brought my hand up to rest on his hard stomach, tracing my fingers gently over his skin, as I relaxed against him.