This made sense.

"Okay then, why would he do that?"

"That, I don't know. That's why Vance is here." I looked to Vance then back at Brock when he kept going. "He works for Lee too and he doesn't owe me, I'll owe him but he's gonna nose around and see what he can learn so I can prepare for whatever h.e.l.ler's planning."

This should have p.i.s.sed me off.

It didn't.

It scared me.

And it scared me because that night Brock threatened Damian, Damian decided to take Brock down a peg. He might be facing serious jail time but that wouldn't matter to him.

Brock had not only threatened him, he'd shut the door in his face then he stood in my living room at my window and waited until Damian did what he was told, something Damian wouldn't take kindly in a serious way. And last, but not least, he stood between Damian and what Damian wanted.

I knew from experience that Damian could play dirty, mean and as nasty as nasty could be to get what he wanted. He might be looking into Brock but if he didn't find anything, which he wouldn't, then he'd still find a way to f.u.c.k with Brock's life. And f.u.c.king with Brock was f.u.c.king with me, f.u.c.king with Rex and Joel at a time when that situation was tenuous at best and f.u.c.king with Brock's family who I'd come to care about and were in the throes of their own turmoil.

But, bottom line, first and foremost, he'd be f.u.c.king with Brock.

And I couldn't allow that.

So I made a decision.

"I need to make a statement to him," I announced.

"Come again?" Brock asked and, automatically, my hand fisted in his flannel but I didn't notice it.

"Tomorrow," I whispered, "I'll go into the Station with you and I'll press charges against Damian. a.s.sault, battery and rape."

The room filled with crackling electricity that snapped vicious against my skin.

And this wasn't coming from Brock.

It was then I remembered we had an audience and I looked to the men at his bar.

At what I read on their faces, I tensed.

Uh-oh.

"Sweet Tess," Brock murmured but I couldn't tear my eyes away from the men at the bar and Brock kept talking, "I didn't share. They didn't know."

I closed my eyes tight, turned my head to face his chest and clenched his shirt harder.

d.a.m.n, now I was blurting that s.h.i.t out w.i.l.l.y-nilly.

I felt Brock's big, warm hand over mine at his shirt, pushing in hard so I had no choice but to unclench and then he pressed my hand flat to his chest as he whispered, "Hey."

I pressed my lips together and continued to scrunch my eyes closed.

He gave me an arm squeeze.

"Baby, hey."

I opened my eyes and tilted them up to him.

He looked into my eyes and a shadow pa.s.sed through his.

"Look at me," he said gently.

"I am," I whispered.

"No, sweetness, look at me. What do you see?"

I felt my throat clog.

"Don't go there, stay here with me," he urged softly, I swallowed and he pulled me closer, dipping his face lower. "I took that away, baby, you gave it to me. Don't go there, don't take that weight back. Look at me, see me. Feel this," he demanded gently, his arm tightening further, pulling me even closer, his hand pressing mine into the warm, hard wall of his chest.

"Where are you?"

"I'm with you," I said quietly.

"Yeah, Tess, you're with me."

I held his eyes for a moment then closed mine and did a face plant in his chest.

The fingers of his hand at mine curled around tight.

"This is free," I heard growled and I opened my eyes and turned them in the direction the words came from and saw Vance's infuriated gaze locked on Brock. "No marker. This I do for your woman."

I felt my belly tighten with shock as my fingers wrapped hard around Brock's at his shirt.

"I work that angle too," Hector announced and my eyes shot to him to see he, too, had his furious, dark eyes locked on Brock.

"Uh..." I mumbled but they were on the move.

"You see to your woman and your boys," Vance declared. "We'll get to work."

Um.

Wow.

I didn't know them, like at all, outside of the fact they were hot. But I liked them.

"Appreciated," Brock muttered.

They tore their eyes from Brock and looked at me.

"Tess, next time, hope it's better circ.u.mstances," Vance said to me.

I did too.

"Thanks," I whispered.

Hector, who didn't know me either, wasn't done being p.i.s.sed on my behalf and therefore he scowled at me. Then he jerked up his chin at Brock and they moved to the steps. Brock let me go to start moving with them.

"Uh..." I called, they stopped and looked back at me. "I, um... own Tessa's Cakes in Cherry Creek."

They just looked at me.

"Uh, well, you boys look like you aren't cupcake eaters," more like ribeyes grilled blue, "but, you know, if you're ever in the mood, come in, anything you want on the house for, like, eternity."

It was lame but then again, my cakes were really good. Maybe they wouldn't think it was lame.

They didn't. Vance's handsome face split into a s.h.i.t-eating grin. Hector's dark eyes melted, his lips twitched then he gave me a glamorous white smile.

Brock chuckled.

"And, uh..." I started to add, "whichever one of you is on that bike, that bike is hot but be careful. Snow's coming."

"Will do, Tess," Vance murmured.

Then I got more chin lifts and they headed back out.

Moving on!

I headed to the fridge and was perusing options for dinner when I heard and felt Brock come back.

Determinedly setting the mood that what had just pa.s.sed had pa.s.sed and now we were going to get back to regularly scheduled programming that did not include b.i.t.c.hy, manipulative ex-wives or vicious, nasty, territorial ex-husbands, I stated, "Dinner choices, steak and potatoes, pork chops and rice or hamburgers."

I pulled my head out of his fridge, closed the door and turned to Brock.

He was leaning his hips against the counter, hands to his sides, palms to its top, studying me.

Then he gave me my play and answered, "Pork chops and rice."

I nodded, opened the fridge and pulled out the package of pork chops. Then I dropped it on the counter and opened the cupboard to pull out the box of seasoned rice.

"What's with the bags?" Brock asked as I tilted my head down to study the directions on the rice.

"Christmas presents," I answered. "The boys get here tomorrow and the area under the tree is a little barren. Tree skirts are not meant to be barren, especially in a house with two boys aged ten and twelve. So, tonight I'm wrapping and tomorrow they'll get here and see presents under the tree."

"Babe, how much did you buy them? There's gotta be twenty rolls of wrapping paper there."

"Something to learn about me," I muttered to the box. "I have a weakness for wrapping paper and not just the Christmas kind."

This was met with silence.

Until, "Babe, forgot to tell you something."

I looked from reading the directions on the box of rice to Brock to see he had hauled himself up on the counter and was sitting on it.

"Yeah?" I asked hesitantly.

"Coupla weeks ago, you gave me a f.u.c.kin' sweet nightie and words I loved hearing."

I felt my entire body go still as I held his eyes.

"Forgot to mention I feel the same," he stated and my insides hollowed out.

"What?" I breathed.

"Put down the rice and come here, baby, I wanna tell you I love you when you're in my arms."

I didn't move. I stared at him, my internal organs gone but still, my body managed to produce tears which gathered in my eyes and then promptly and silently slid down my cheeks.

Brock watched this for about two seconds then he whispered, "Tess, darlin', come here."

I went there; he opened his thighs and reached out to me when I got close. He pulled me between his legs, deep into him, one arm tight around me, one hand cupping my head and pressing my cheek against his chest. I wrapped my arms around his waist and held on.

He dipped his head so his lips were at the top of my hair and whispered, "I love you, my sweet Tess."

I soft sob hitched in my throat; I held on tighter and pressed deeper.

"Jesus, my girl, so f.u.c.kin' sweet," he murmured against my hair.

Another hitch then I tilted my head back, his came up and I pulled an arm from around him, lifted it, curled my hand around his neck and pulled his mouth down to mine.

Then I kissed him as hard as I could trying to show him how much his words meant to me.

I was guessing this worked when he tore his lips from mine and muttered, "Maybe I don't love you. Maybe I just love your mouth."

I grinned up at him.

"And your c.u.n.t," he went on.

My grin got bigger.

"And your cupcakes," he added.

I started giggling and he smiled.

Then he whispered, "No, it's just you."

I stopped giggling, stared into his quicksilver eyes and then dipped my chin and did another face plant in his chest.

He held me close, arm around me, hand at my head becoming fingers sifting through my hair.

After awhile, I sighed, lifted a hand to my face, swiped away the wet and muttered, "Let me go, baby, I gotta feed my man."