Brock took my hand without reciprocating my words and led me to the door. “Yes, I’ve sung with Autumn, but only at private parties. Band AMIE is a girl band. Nobody wants to see me.”
“Is singing something you’ve wanted to do?”
“Never. That’s always been Autumn’s thing. When she was a teenager she’d choreograph dances and skits, always insisting we’d be famous someday. I never had the heart to tell her that I just wasn’t good enough. She saw something in me that I didn’t have.”
I darted my eyes up to him. “You have a great voice.”
He shook his head. “Sung at low levels in your ear, maybe, but trust me, I don’t have what Autumn has. We’d better go. I hope we can get a table without a reservation.”
The thought of him singing in my ear made me not want to go anywhere, but I also understood where he was coming from. “There’s always Taco Bell,” I said, attempting to keep the conversation light and remind him that I didn’t need fancy.
“Umm … No,” he said as he pulled the door closed behind him and locked it. “Not with you dressed like that, and with me dressing up for the first time in months.”
“Okay … I have an idea. I know a place that has open seating.”
Brock raised an eyebrow, waiting for my suggestion.
“How ’bout Bar Louie? You don’t have to be twenty-one, and it’s laid-back and classy simultaneously.” I’d added the twenty-one bit after seeing Brock’s eyes widen at me sipping the Mike’s and his previous comments. Obviously, he didn’t want to get in trouble for contributing to my delinquency, and he’d said he didn’t drink. Truth be known, drinking had been one of my largest concerns with my last relationship. No matter what we were doing, Nathan had always been drunk, which made me wonder if he didn’t like me unless he was drunk.
Brock tilted his head. “I like Bar Louie, but you sure that’s nice enough for New Year’s Eve?”
I nodded. “Yes. If you want to do something next week, we can, but I’d rather not wait for three hours to get a table.”
“All right, Bar Louie, it is. Is it okay if we take your car, though? I didn’t clean out my truck. I wasn’t expecting company.”
His comment made me smile. I was happy that he hadn’t been going out. On New Year’s Eve, too. He’d been telling the truth when he’d said he didn’t like to date. “Sure.” I dug the keys out of my purse and tossed them to him without warning him.
His reaction was quick, though. He snapped them up, midair. “You want me to drive?”
“I like a man to drive.”
Brock groaned in response. “Charity, you’re gonna be the death of me, woman. It’s been too long for you to make comments like that.”
I shrugged. I hadn’t really meant for my comment to come off as seductive. Well, maybe just a little. “Hey, I really do hate driving. You’re the one who took it the wrong way.”
Brock wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me toward him. “It’s hard not to think sexual thoughts when a woman as good-looking and built the way you are is next to me, not to mention a woman who I happen to be crazy about.”
He opened up the car door for me, and I slipped inside.
Brock hopped behind the wheel, and started the car, but then turned to me. He lowered his head and stared into my eyes, his minty breath washing over my face. “I missed you this last month. I’m so upset that I wasted all this time when I could have been getting to know you better.”
I bit down on my lip to hold back the range of emotions clawing at my insides. “Let’s not think about last month, okay? Let’s start over tonight. I missed you too.”
Brock pressed his lips against mine, coaxing me to open up to him. I did and was rewarded with his delicious kiss. He had a way of working his tongue that made me long for him to carry me back upstairs and experience more. But it was clear he wanted to wait, and so did I. It’d been nine months since I’d had sex, and I was hungry all right, but for once, I didn’t want to be the one to screw things up.
Kayla had said that she and Jesse waited until their wedding night. At first, I hadn’t believed her, but then I realized, what reason would she have to lie, especially since she’d said that she’d been ready? It had been Jesse who had wanted to wait, and Morgan had said the same thing: she’d begged him and he’d refused, something about his mother leaving him, that he didn’t want to make the same mistakes his parents had.
Was that what Brock was thinking, too? His ex-wife was supposedly pregnant by him. Did that mean if it was his that he might go back to her? He’d said he wouldn’t, that he could never trust her again, but what if once the baby was born … My father and mother had been broken up when my mother found out she was pregnant with me. My father said it was destiny. He’d said the moment he’d held me, he couldn’t imagine not being with me every day.
A few minutes down the road, Brock reached over and touched my arm. “You okay?”
“Mm-hm,” I lied, but then added, “I was just thinking about Kayla and Jesse.” Which was true.
“Yeah, they’ve been through a lot. And at such a young age.”
“Kayla’s only six months younger than I am.”
Brock laced his fingers through mine. “Actually, I was talking about Jesse. I think girls are born grown-up, whereas men take another twenty years or so.”
I smiled. “What about you? What made you get married so young?”
Brock licked his lips as if debating whether to answer.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me.”
He squeezed my hand. “I don’t mind, but you said you didn’t want me to talk about my ex.”
“I did … But really, I just didn’t like you comparing me to her.”
“You’re right. That was wrong.” Brock pulled into the parking lot of the mall and opted for the valet parking since it was darn near impossible to find a parking space.
I hopped out, realizing we could continue the conversation inside. Brock was around the car, handing over the keys, and by my side before I made it to the door.
“Let me get that …” He pulled the wide glass door open, holding it while I walked past, undulating my hips to the music emanating from inside.
The party atmosphere made me smile. Rock music blared out of the speakers, and every chair seemed to be decorated with an array of different colored balloons and streamers. “There,” I shouted, pointing to one of the round booths in the back. “They’re paying.”
Brock kissed my cheek and whipped by me, apparently knowing the drill. I watched as he said something to the couple, who smiled in return and hopped up. The man patted him on the back, and Brock turned and waved me forward.
As I weaved my way through the high-top tables, I watched as Brock cleaned up the remaining glasses and silverware, setting the remnants of the previous diners’ meal at the edge of the table.
“Wow … He cleans up nice and cleans tables, too!” Then again, I’d already known that, since he’d helped his mom and sister clean up after our Sunday dinner.
“Never been a stranger to work, my love. Been working since I was twelve.”
I smiled at his sweet endearment, wondering why he would say “my love,” even though he hadn’t returned my “I love you” comment. I’d said it while laughing, though, so I couldn’t really hold him accountable. But I really did love Brock. I was certain of it. When I’d received his message, all I could think about was getting to him. After making sure Kayla was okay first, of course.
Brock waited for me to sit, then scooted in beside me. “You want to order a dinner or just a tableful of appetizers?”
“Ooh … that sounds fun.”
“Any requests?”
“Nope. I like everything.”
“That’s my girl. I hate picky eaters. Having a Puerto Rican mother and an Irish father, I’ve learned to eat anything. You should see some of the recipes Mai would come up with. My —” He shook his head. “I’ve attempted to recreate them, but not everyone I’v
e cooked for has appreciated my cooking.”
“You cook, too?”
“I love to cook!” He lowered his head. “Do you cook?”
I shrugged. “There was never any food in my house to practice, but I make a mean apple pie. Gram called me her little helper.”
“That works. I still owe you a home-cooked meal. I’ll make the main course, you can bring the dessert.”
“It’s a date!” I said with a smile, resisting adding that he’d better answer the door this time when I showed up.
The waiter finally showed, and I could see the exhaustion all over his face. I wasn’t really sure I wanted to be a server. But Brock had the guy smiling in a second. I just sat and watched as Brock pointed animatedly to all the appetizers he wanted, gesturing to me a few times. The man laughed at one of the comments, which I was unable to hear. Brock was a nice guy, I realized. A really nice guy. Just like his sister had whispered in my ear. I don’t know why that fact surprised me, but it did. Maybe because everyone thought I was such a bitch. What did he see in me?
Brock folded up the menus and put them back in the middle. “Diet Coke, right?”
I nodded. Yep, he didn’t want me to use my fake ID when I was with him. “Why don’t you drink, Brock?”
He lifted his head as if I’d slapped him instead of asking what I thought was a normal question. He wiped his hand over his mouth, but then dropped it. “Because my father was an alcoholic … and a drug addict, among other things.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay … He’s been gone since I was twelve.”
“Oh, again, sorry. I didn’t —”
The waiter showed up with our food and refills on our sodas, which gave me a second to compose myself. I should have thought before just blurting out a personal question.
“It’s okay. My father’s not dead, just put away.” Brock shook his head. “We moved here after he was sent to prison. The sad thing is … I looked up to him, wanted to be a cop, too. Here I thought he was being a good cop when he’d taught me to watch my back, always be on the lookout, but really, he had to watch his back because of all the extortion and drug deals.” He sighed. “Anyway, not good conversation for our first date. But Mai asked me not to drink, so I don’t. Besides, someone had to take care of her and Autumn.”
“That makes sense.” Maybe that was what Autumn had been referring to when she’d whispered that she was “living proof.” I moved closer and wrapped my hands around his biceps. “You’re a good guy, aren’t you, Brock?”
He stared down at me, then kissed my forehead. “Not always. I’ve made my share of screw-ups, but if it’s okay with you, I’d rather not divulge all my secrets until I know you want to keep me.”
I licked my lips and he bent his head lower, kissing me. My insides felt like mush. “I think I want to keep you.”
Brock just nodded. What did that mean? Did that mean he didn’t believe me? He acted as though all he wanted was me, but when I returned the sentiments, letting him know that all I wanted was him, he’d immediately brush it off or not respond, as if he thought I was lying. All I could think was that even though he said he wouldn’t, he was comparing me to his ex-wife again.
Chapter 13 – Brock
Why was I kidding myself? Charity could say that she wanted to keep me and joke that she loved me, but in the end, it’d be the same thing. If we took our relationship further, she’d be a bored housewife, just like Caitlyn. Or worse, she’d go to college, become some up-and-coming doctor or lawyer, and her friends and family would look at me as the poor Puerto Rican blue-collared worker.
But her hands around my biceps, the way she’d scooted next to me without my having to pull her next to me, the way she’d opened up to my kisses, the way she fell into my arms … I wanted to believe her beautiful words, wanted to believe that the princess could really fall in love with the frog, who was neither and never would be a prince.
I should have been the prince she needed. Could have been if it weren’t for — I sighed. What difference did it make?
Charity stared up at me with those big blue eyes surrounded by long dark eyelashes. She even looked like a princess. A dark-haired, seductive princess, that is.
She smiled up at me. “What have you been doing for the last month?”
“What I always do,” I answered her honestly. “Working my butt off.” Of course, my answer wasn’t completely honest, since I failed to mention that the reason I was working my butt off was to keep myself from spending every minute of the day thinking about her. Not that it’d helped. I’d still spent nearly every conscious minute cursing myself for being such a coward, for not having the nerve to confront her, to ask her what had really happened the day she’d shown up at her ex’s house.
“What you do is hard work, huh? Jesse has been helping out my grandmother for four or five years. He always worked so hard and left dirty and sweaty, and I always felt bad, knowing he probably had more jobs after our yard. Why did you choose such a backbreaking career?”
I shrugged. “As you probably know, you don’t always choose your jobs. Sometimes they fall into your lap.”
She bit down on her lip and shook her head. “Umm … No, I don’t. I’ve never had to work.”
“Never?”
She shook her head, looking embarrassed by her admission. “But I’m looking now. I promised my dad that I would find a job this week. Not that he gave me a choice.”
Even my ex had had to babysit for the extra things she’d wanted. But it seems Charity’s parents had given her everything. She’d said she had a BMW and didn’t need one, but what would happen in a few years when it was old or broken down? No way could I afford her lifestyle. And unlike Caitlyn, where I had planned to take over her father’s business, I couldn’t train myself to be a plastic surgeon.
I’d better just start telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, from here on out. “Well, here’s how I ended up working for Bill’s Plumbing, anyway. My mom took care of my ex-wife’s mother … she was dying. They became friends, and the next thing I knew, Caitlyn’s mom made her husband give me a job.” I glanced down at Charity. “My mom talks a lot. I’m sure she told Bill’s wife everything about our lives. She’s never seen any reason to be embarrassed by what my father did — or what I’d been doing.” Charity stared up at me, as if looking for more info, info I promised to give her a month ago. I waved it off, hoping she’d be patient with me. “Anyway, I was in high school, and Bill took me under his wing. He offered me lawn work, pool work, odd jobs, and then taught me a real trade, even though I’d had my sights on a completely different career.”
Charity nodded, urging me on.
“Plumbing isn’t a bad career … if you own the company,” I clarified. “And that was my intention. Bill would have eventually handed over the reins in a few years. But I had to prove to him I could handle it, so I basically took over the operation without the benefits of being the owner. And then, according to my ex, she got … ‘lonely,’” I made one air quote since I didn’t want to move my arm that Charity was holding, “supposedly because I was working too hard. For her.”
Charity shook her head. “Bitch.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah … But I didn’t know that at first. Although she’d always been polite, she’d never paid me much attention, and of course, we went to different schools. I’d managed to avoid her all the years I worked for her father when I was in high school, but then we started dating the year she graduated. She was eighteen; I was nineteen. The next thing I knew, she was pregnant.” I shook my head as I thought back to how ticked I’d been. “I’d used protection every time so I couldn’t understand it, but I was young and dumb. The worst part, I had my life planned. I’d cleaned up my act in the last three years that I had worked for Bill. I was going into the Air Force. I could have been out in five years and had enough money to finish college and have a great job.”
“Wait,” Charity interrupted
, “You already have kids?”
“Nope!” I popped my answer. “Turns out she wasn’t pregnant. But by the time I found out, we were already married.”
“Of all the cheap, low-down ways to keep a man,” Charity shouted, and I rested my hand on her arm to calm her down. Even though it was loud in the restaurant, other patrons had obviously heard her announcement. “If you ever compare me to that woman again — I would never do something so underhanded.”
I pressed my lips to hers to get her to stop yelling. It worked. She kissed me back, a little more fervently than I’d intended for inside a restaurant, though, so I pulled back after a second. “Wanna go?”
She smiled. “Where?”
“I don’t know. It’s just loud in here. Although … I do like the idea that everything I say I have to get close to your ear. God, you smell good.” I waved at the server, who would probably be happy to see us go since we weren’t drinking.
“You want to box this up?”
I stood as the waiter made his way. “Nah. It’ll just go bad.” I had a fifty already pulled out so I wouldn’t have to wait for the server to come back with a credit card receipt. “Keep the change.” I offered Charity my hand, then pulled her next to me.
As much as I wanted nothing more than to take Charity back to my place, I couldn’t. Not yet. I wasn’t exactly sure what I was waiting for, but I was confident that I’d know it when I saw it. Instead, after the valet brought her car around and she walked to the passenger door, making it clear she wanted me to drive, I headed toward the beach.
“Head north,” she directed as we came up on the roundabout. “I know a perfect spot.”
I followed her directions, looking forward to a nice stroll on the beach with more time to talk.
I parked where she directed me. “Let’s try this again …” I held out my hand to her as I opened the door, delighting at how soft and fair her skin was. How elegant. So unlike my calloused, suntanned hands.
Love Until It Hurts (Crazy Love Book 2) Page 10
