by Kristie Cook
So badly that I couldn’t stop thinking about him Saturday morning. I hadn’t left Hope’s property since the day I moved in, and I seriously needed some time away from there. And from Brock. I went to the beach for a few hours, and then to the grocery store, armed with my first paycheck. It was about time that I cooked for Brock. Too bad that wouldn’t be for another few days.
Crap. There I went again, thinking about him and looking forward to our next rendezvous. I seriously needed a life.
That night, I was good, though, when Brock texted me at eleven, asking if I was awake. Not wanting my boredom and desperation for company to show through, I suppressed the urge to reply. But I had no control over the giddiness in my belly or how long it took me to fall asleep because he was thinking about me.
After spending a whole hour cleaning my entire apartment on Sunday morning, I took Brock’s advice and worked out in their home gym. Or tried to anyway. I didn’t really know how to use the weight machine, so I did the best I could, while constantly glancing around the room as I searched for cameras. I was sure someone was somewhere laughing at me. Like Brock. Right when I’d given up and was about to head back to my apartment, Hope walked in.
She was dressed in workout pants and a tank top with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. Earphones hung around her neck.
“Oh, Asia,” she gasped when she saw me. “I didn’t—”
“I’m sorry!” I jumped to my feet and grabbed my towel to wipe the sweat off my neck and chest. “Brock said it was okay to use the gym, but I didn’t mean to intrude.”
She gave me a warm smile. Even without makeup and at her age, she was beautiful. “No, that’s fine. You’re welcome any time. I just hadn’t expected you is all. It startled me.”
I scooted toward the door. “Well, I’m done anyway. It’s all yours. I mean, of course it is, but, um … I think I’ll leave now.”
Why was I acting so stupid? I felt like I’d been caught with my hand in the cookie jar—even worse than when she’d knocked on my door while I was kissing her son.
“Asia, wait,” she said, and I paused, drew in a deep breath, and turned around. “I haven’t seen you much the last few days, I know. But I wanted to say thank you.”
Um… “You’re welcome?” It sounded like a question because I wasn’t sure what she was thanking me for. It had to be all the organizing I did of her files while she was writing. “I mean, it’s my job. It’s what you hired me for, right?”
“I meant for Brock.”
My breath caught. My face heated. Oh, god, here we go. The conversation I’d been dreading where she’d tell me to lay off her beautiful, perfect son while I tried to sink into the floor and become invisible.
“We’re just friends,” I blurted.
She smiled. “I know. It’s okay, hun. Even if you were more than friends. I think you two would be good with each other.”
I imagined my eyes bugging out of my face like a cartoon character’s. “What? I mean, really?” I shook my head. “No, I mean, we’re friends. Nothing more. That’s all.”
“I kind of have this sixth sense about people who should be together. Maybe because of all the romance writing, you know? And I think you two kind of need each other.” She lifted her shoulder in a shrug. “Whether friends or anything else, I’m glad he has you. He needs someone like you. Not his guy buddies, but a real friend. He has a lot on his plate right now, and you seem to understand that. That’s why I haven’t minded him ditching Connor and me for dinner all this week.”
My face flushed even hotter. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause problems.”
“Asia, please stop apologizing. I’m thanking you. I want you to be his friend … or whatever.”
I frowned, and my heart clenched. “I’m afraid I haven’t been much of a friend, though. I don’t even know what you mean by all that he has on his plate right now. I’ve tried to ask, but he never wants to talk about it, and I didn’t want to pry.”
“Well, most of it’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?” She let out a little snort. “But that’s my Brock. Always playing down the hard stuff.”
“He’s kind of great,” I admitted.
Her mouth stretched beyond a grin this time to outright beaming. “He really is. I knew you thought so, too. I told you—I’m good like that. He’ll need a lot of time and patience, though, Asia. Even if you are just friends.” She winked. “He has his priorities, though. I don’t see him ever purposely messing up, but he’s a boy. A male. He’ll screw up plenty enough by accident. They just can’t help it. I only ask that you be the girl I think you are and keep him on track.”
So that was her warning. Not exactly what I’d been expecting—I thought for sure she’d tell me to stay away from him and remember I was here to work and nothing else—but a warning nonetheless not to become his top priority. Not to be a distraction.
“That’s what he needs most from you,” she continued, and then she chuckled. “That’s what all men need most from their women.”
“Like I said, we’re just friends,” I assured one more time before turning back for the door.
“For now,” Hope said from behind me. “Oh, Asia, why don’t you join us tonight for family dinner? You can finally meet my mister. The one I have to keep on track.”
“I already told Brock—”
“I don’t care what you told Brock. I’m asking you to join my family for dinner. It’s Christmas Eve, and you shouldn’t be alone. Please come.”
Well. How could I say no to that? Especially since she was my boss.
“What time?”
“We won’t eat until after Connor goes down for bed, so around 7:30.”
We actually didn’t eat until nearly eight, but I arrived a little before 7:30 and helped Brock and his dad in the kitchen as much as I could while Hope tried to put a cranky Connor to bed. Mr. Verdor traveled constantly for business and was only home on some weekends and apparently holidays, which had been one of the reasons I hadn’t wanted to intrude on their dinner—they had such little time together as a family as it was. But I was glad to have met him. Although, I did feel envious of Brock over his very cool parents. They were obviously successful and could have been snotty jerks, but they were complete opposites of my always proper (except behind closed doors) asshole of a stepfather and my wimpy, wilted mother who couldn’t make a decision for herself.
Disregarding my protests that it wasn’t necessary and reminders that I lived right behind the house, Brock insisted on walking me home, all the way up the stairs and to the door.
“I never thought any girl would ever be able to earn them, but you have my parents’ blessings,” he said as I opened the door.
I froze with my back to him. “Oh, really?”
I felt him move closer to me. Felt the energy charging between us.
“Oh, definitely. Especially my mom. She said she talked to you earlier today.”
I closed my eyes and held my breath. What had she told him? Our entire conversation? Oh, god, I hoped not. Brock moved even closer. I could sense every inch of his body only centimeters from mine.
“Asia,” he whispered, my name a sigh on his lips. “I really don’t know if this is right … or best … or anything. But, I can’t help it. I can’t be friends with you.”
My breath leaked out, and I slowly nodded. “I know. You have priorities.”
“I don’t think you understand.” He was so close now, I felt his breath on my neck as it fluttered my hair. “I can’t be just friends with you. I want you too badly.”
His hand landed on my shoulder and slid down my arm until his fingers tangled between mine. His chest pressed lightly against my shoulders, and his mouth was so close, I could already feel it on my skin although his lips hadn’t actually touched me. My heart raced, and my stomach tilted.
&
nbsp; “Do you want me?” he breathed against my ear, sending goose bumps over my skin. Powerless to do anything else, I only nodded. “Good.”
With one hand still holding mine, his free one came to my waist and held me as his mouth skimmed from my ear down my neck stopping at the hollow at my shoulder. There his lips parted, and his tongue swirled over my skin. My knees turned to jelly, and I leaned back, wanting to melt into him. But he kept his hand steady on my waist as he stepped away from me. I turned around to face him, wondering why he stopped before he even started.
“I’m going to do this right, though,” he said. “Slowly and on purpose. No more accidental kisses. Every one will be deliberate. Meant for only you.”
I could only stare at him and blink. Eventually I nodded. He returned my affirmation, and then lifted our hands so his thumb could brush over my lips.
“Merry Christmas, Asia,” he murmured, and the next thing I knew, he was free from me and halfway down the steps.
The following two weeks he courted me almost in an old-fashioned way, taking things slow and deliberate as he’d promised. We only read Jacey’s journal a couple of times, not getting very far, because he kept insisting on taking me out for dinner or at least ice cream and walks on the beach. We were always home by seven-thirty, though, when his phone would beep, letting us know his free time was over. I didn’t mind. I remembered what Hope had said about keeping him on track. I knew it was important to both of them that he finish college and then med school, and since we’d only started dating, I wasn’t about to become the co-dependent whiner. Then he promised me Friday night to celebrate my twenty-first birthday with a full date and staying out later than dark, and I became ridiculously excited.
When I’d gone to work Friday morning, I’d forgotten the dishes from the dinner he’d made me the night before so I brought them over a little before our date was to begin. I wasn’t ready to go out yet, and I was sure Brock wasn’t either, but I heard him in the family room, so I popped my head around the corner to say hi.
And everything crashed down on me.
He lay on the brown leather sofa in jeans and nothing else with his knees bent up and closed together. In his lap, leaning against his thighs, was Connor with his little fists waving in the air. And the way Brock was looking at him, smiling at him, showing complete adoration and protection, I suddenly knew what Hope had meant. It hadn’t been obvious. Not to me. Not until now.
But seriously. How had I not known?
“Who’s Daddy’s big boy?” Brock cooed as he picked Connor up and snuggled his nose into the baby’s neck.
Into his son’s neck.
Chapter 12
9 Months Ago
“Oh, my god,” I gasped aloud as my hand flew to cover my mouth.
“There’s our birthday girl,” Brock said in his daddy-to-baby voice. My heart stopped even before he turned to look at me, a broad smile on his face. As he took in my shocked expression, his brows pinched together, and the corners of his mouth turned down. “What’s wrong, babe?”
I shook my head, still unable to breathe, unable to think, unable to do anything but stare. When he swung his legs around to the floor and stood with Connor sitting on his muscled arm, I bolted to the kitchen toward the back door.
“Asia, wait!” Brock commanded as I cornered the granite-topped island in the gourmet kitchen. I stopped in my tracks and drew in a deep breath as I kept my back to him. “What’s the matter? You look like you caught me in bed with another girl or something.”
Heh. That would have been easy to comprehend. Wouldn’t have been the first time, and I’d know what to do. This, though. This had me in complete shock.
I turned around to find Brock only a couple of feet away from me, both his and Connor’s dark eyes staring at me.
“He’s—” My throat felt thick and dry. I swallowed down the lump in it as I looked at the baby and back at Brock. I’d thought the resemblance had been because they were brothers. Not this. “He’s … yours.”
It didn’t even come out as a question, because it was painfully obvious now.
“Well, yeah.” Brock looked at me with the same confusion I felt. After a moment, his head cocked and his eyes squinted. “Wait. You didn’t know?”
I shook my head. Gathered my hair in hands and tugged. All kinds of emotions swirled through me, and I felt a panic attack beginning to rise. My chest constricted, and my lungs fought for air. My stomach twisted and turned, and stars began to dance in front of my eyes as a dizzy spell came on.
“I have to get out of here.” I spun and ran through the kitchen, out the back door, and up to my apartment, ignoring Brock’s pleas to stop and come back.
Once inside my apartment, I fell to my hands and knees on the floor, gulping in much needed air. When I could finally breathe properly and I felt sure my heart wasn’t going to pound its way up my throat and out my mouth, I collapsed and rolled over. I lay on my back, knees in the air, and stared at the ceiling.
How could I have been so fucking stupid?
So blind? How had I not even considered that Connor belonged to Brock and not Hope? It couldn’t have been because of his age or that he was single, because I, of all people, knew that meant nothing. Or maybe I’d assumed most people weren’t as stupid and careless as me? I knew better than that, too, though. So how had I ignored this possibility, especially when Brock “babysat” Connor so much? He wasn’t actually babysitting. He was simply taking care of his own son.
A sob began to push in my throat as his love for Connor hit me hard, reminding me of what could have been …. If only …
Brock’s shape filled the window by the door at the same time a knock sounded on it. He must have peaked in and saw me on the floor because he didn’t wait for me to respond, but entered on his own. I stared at him as he stood over me, focusing on his bare chest and arms that were so damn exquisite, because I couldn’t bring myself to focus on anything else. After a long moment of studying my face, he dropped to his knees next to me and pulled me off the floor and into his lap, hugging me close to him. I didn’t even know how to respond. I couldn’t hold my ignorance against him. But I couldn’t bring myself to return the embrace. My arms hung loosely at my sides.
“I’m sorry you didn’t know,” he whispered. “I honestly thought you did. Please don’t think I was lying to you.”
I shook my head. “It was my own damn stupidity. I thought you were brothers. That Hope had a baby late in life. An oops baby. I assumed, and you know how that always works out.”
“So you’re not mad at me?”
I pulled back to look into his eyes. “How could I be mad at you for having a son, Brock?”
“But you ran away …”
“I was in shock. I still am. I don’t even know how to process this. What to think any more.” I pushed off his lap and to my feet. I needed to separate myself from him, so I walked over to the couch and sat in the corner, pulling my knees to my chest.
“I know it’s a lot to accept.” He scratched at his cheek before his arms fell to his sides. “I honestly thought you already had. Now that I think about it, though, I realize how stupid I’d been to think you’d accept it. Sometimes I find it hard to believe myself.”
“How?” I asked.
“How what?”
“How did it happen?”
He lifted a brow. I rolled my eyes.
“I mean, how did you end up here, a single dad?” For some reason, I felt the need to hear his story. Right now. Probably because I knew it would prolong having to focus on my own. On the multitude of emotions storming through me.
Brock came over and sat on the other end of the couch. He pulled one knee up and turned so his back rested against the couch’s arm, allowing him to face me. His chest rose as he drew in a deep breath and fell as he blew it out.
> “We’ve been skating around our pasts long enough, huh?” he asked as though avoiding having to tell me. I nodded. “Okay, then. Well … I met his mom at a party at college. When I was up north.”
“New York, right?” I asked, sure he’d mentioned that before.
“Yeah, upstate. I’d spent freshman year enjoying life as a 19-year-old college boy should—joined a fraternity, barely passed classes, drank way too much beer, and chased after girls. We hooked up at a party early fall semester my second year, and she gave me her number. I didn’t think much of it, but I was bored one night and gave her a call.” He shrugged, showing his nonchalance at the time. “We had some fun for a while, hanging out on the weekends when neither of us had anything else to do. By the end of the semester, my grades weren’t what they should have been. I realized I needed to take my studies a lot more seriously if I was ever going to get into med school, and I thought dating someone exclusively would help keep me from the parties. So I asked her. It wasn’t all that serious, though. I mean, definitely not love or anything. We never talked about the future except our career goals. We never got to that point, and then I didn’t hear from her for a few weeks, until around spring break of last year. When she finally called again, it was to tell me she was pregnant.”
“And you were sure it was yours? At the time, I mean? He’s obviously yours, looking at him now.”
“We may not have loved each other, but we did care for each other. She wasn’t a slut. In fact, I was only the second guy she’d ever been with.” He frowned, his gaze dropping to watch as his thumbnail flicked at the hem of his jeans. “I didn’t love her, but I offered to marry her anyway. I was brought up to do the right thing, you know? I thought maybe someday we’d grow to love each other. But she didn’t want any of that. She didn’t want me giving up on my dreams of being a doctor. She didn’t want to give up on her own dreams either.”
My heart stuttered as I felt her pain. “She was thinking abortion, wasn’t she?”
