Bailey
ALMOST A MONTH later, Brock and I were alone in the house and I was trying to figure out what to make for dinner. I was still in the house, because there was still no definitive information as to what the hell was going on, and it wasn’t safe to return to my apartment, which made me irritable as hell. “Where’s Dallas?”
“He had some stuff to do, so he left early.” Brock handed me a glass of wine (while he stuck to water).
“Thanks,” I said, and took a sip. I needed this tonight. Even though I’d gotten my cast off yesterday, I’d been in a shitty mood all day. “What about Jaxon?”
“Out front.” He smiled. “Why, you wanna get nasty?”
I rolled my eyes. “Just wondering if I need to make extra.”
“You sure that’s it?”
“Yes, Brock, what else would it be?” I snapped.
He raised his hands in surrender and dropped his head. I sighed. I was (understandably) frustrated. We were still being really careful not to express too many emotions when it came to each other and I was sick of it. I wanted to be with him, even if there was the probability we’d fail. I wanted to at least try.
“Brock, we got movement on the west side of the street, over,” Jaxon radioed.
Brock lifted the walkie from his belt, leaning against the island. “Advise, over.”
I held my breath as he reached out and wrapped his hand around my wrist, his thumb stroking the sensitive spot on my arm.
“Owner walking their dog. No threat, over.”
“Roger that.” He clipped his radio back to his belt and smiled at me. “You okay?”
I nodded.
“Why’s your body locked, then?”
I forced myself to relax and went back to my wine. Brock chuckled, and I glared at him over the rim of my glass.
“Brock. Movement again, over.”
This time I didn’t try to hide my nervousness, stepping closer to him as he grabbed his radio again. “Advise, over.”
“Looks like you got a couple religious folks comin’ up the driveway, over.”
“Roger that. I’m gonna ignore.” Brock smiled at me, sliding his hand around my waist. “I got you, you know that, right?”
I nodded.
“Somethin’s not right, Brock, over.”
Brock pointed at me. “Get to the bathroom.”
I nodded and poured more wine before heading that way. If I was going to the panic room, my wine was coming with me.
I heard the doorbell and stayed close to the bedroom door, ready to run for the panic room if I needed to. I heard Dallas’s voice, and then Brock’s. I bit my lip, but then I heard Brock’s low, sexy chuckle and the door close, and I knew they were discussing me, but they weren’t loud enough for me to make out words.
“Coast is clear, Bailey,” Brock called.
I walked out of the bedroom and down the hall to the great room and stared at the two drop-dead gorgeous men ordered to protect me.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
Brock’s eyes raked over me and I bit my lip to keep from sighing. “Everything’s good,” he said.
“You’re back early,” I said to Dallas.
Dallas nodded. “I got what I needed to do done, so I’m back.”
“Anyone hungry?” I asked. “Do you want dinner?”
“You cook a lot, Bailey,” Dallas pointed out. “You don’t have to.”
“I like cooking, Dallas. It actually calms me and I think you’ll admit, there’s not a lot to be calm about right now.” I settled my hands on my hips. “Do you not like my cooking?”
Dallas raised his hands in surrender. “I love your cooking. I’m just saying you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.”
“I want to.”
I saw Dallas glance at Brock before he made his way to the sofa, flipped on the television and settled in to watch football.
I stepped back into the kitchen, opened the fridge and pulled out steaks, asparagus, and four large potatoes. Even if Jaxon was forced to sit in the car, he still deserved a decent meal. I washed my hands and then the potatoes, prepping them for the oven, all the while being closely watched by Brock. “What?” I asked, without looking at him.
I felt his hand on my lower back and I looked up at him and melted. His eyes were filled with concern and something deeper, but it was the something deeper I couldn’t focus on.
“You okay?” he asked.
I nodded. “I just want this done.”
He stroked my back. “I know.”
“No, I don’t think you do.” I went back to chopping the asparagus.
He squeezed my hip. “Hey.”
I looked at him again. Wrong choice. I just wanted to wrap my arms around him and cry, so he could hold me and comfort me, but that wasn’t an option, so I had to stuff it.
“I do know,” he said. “We’ll sort it out.”
“When, Brock?” I laid the knife down. “When will you sort it out? It’s been over a month and I want to go back to my life. I have been here long enough to get my cast off. It’s too long, Brock.” I picked the knife back up and mumbled, “Way too frickin’ long.”
“I’m gonna go outside for a bit,” Dallas said as he stood and headed out the back slider, closing it behind him.
Brock didn’t waste any time as he pulled the knife from my hand and gathered me in his arms. Hand at my head, pressing my cheek to his chest, he pulled me close and I let myself go. I burst into tears and sobbed into his long-sleeved T-shirt.
“That’s good, baby. Let it out.”
“Stop calling me baby.”
“No.”
I didn’t know why, but this struck me funny and I couldn’t stop a giggle, even though I was still crying, and it came out more like a sob.
He lifted my chin and wiped his thumbs along my cheeks, removing my tears. “I’m done denying this, Bailey. Done denying you. Dallas knows―”
“Knows what?”
“About my feelings. He knows all of it now, and he’s got my back. I’ll tell Jaxon when it’s right.”
“I’m sorry?” I had suddenly moved from despair, to funny, to down-right mad.
“Us. I want to make us work.”
“Oh, my god, Brock. Are you serious?” I snapped.
He appeared genuinely shocked by my irritation. “Why are you mad?”
“If I have to tell you that, then you’re an idiot.” I grabbed the knife again and he stepped back a bit. I went back to the asparagus, swearing when I realized I chopped the spears a little smaller than I had intended.
Note to self: don’t cook while pissed off.
“Bailey, you take a minute to think about this and calm down and then we’ll talk.” He pointed to my hand. “Without weapons.”
Brock joined Dallas on the patio and I went back to my food prep. I didn’t really understand why I was so mad, I just was. Then it dawned on me. Steak, potatoes, cheesecake in the fridge, a bottle of red wine sitting on the counter…Brock had gone shopping. And he’d gone shopping and bought the same thing I’d devoured approximately twenty-eight days ago.
Seriously insightful and seriously sweet…and seriously annoying.
Brock and Dallas didn’t drink on duty, and since I was their duty twenty-four, seven, I’d never seen them drink even a beer. But I wasn’t on duty, a fact I’d pointed out last time I was PMSing and didn’t have wine to take the edge off. The very next day after my meltdown, the safe house was stocked with various bottles of wine and chocolate. I’d put a list together and Brock…or Dallas, I wasn’t sure which…had bought everything on my list.
Really, super nice guys, even if they were badasses, skilled enough to shoot a pea off a railing from a mile away. My words, not theirs…and I was speculating, particularly because I’d never actually seen either of them shoot a pea off a railing from any distance. But since I tended to quite like the idea of a cowboy, I really liked the idea that the man I was falling for (hard) could shoot a pea off a railing from a mile away.
I heard the slider open and glanced up to see Brock set one foot inside the door.
“Safe to enter?” he asked.
“Yes.” I laid my knife down and grimaced. “I’m sorry.”
He smiled, stepping further inside and closing the door. “Nothing to apologize for.”
“I think I’m PMSing.”
“Yeah, babe, I know. I put a few personal things in your bathroom for you.”
“You did not.”
“I did.”
I felt the heat creep up my neck. “Please tell me you had a female agent acquire said personal things.”
“Honey, I’m man enough to walk into a store and buy a box of tampons.”
And that’s when it happened. He stood smiling at me, having declared he’d just bought me tampons, and I fell in love. Right there, on the spot. In love. Not the puppy love, he’s hot, she’s hot, let’s get it on kind of not lasting love. But the forever, give my body and soul to this man, kind of love.
“Damn it!” I snapped.
“Bailey? You okay?” He watched me carefully…for all of three seconds…and then I was once again gathered in his arms in the kitchen of a safe house in the middle of suburbia. “What?”
“I love you.” Just threw it out there. No filter Bailey strikes again.
And he laughed. Laughed at me. His body shook, and I tried to push away from him, my anger and irritation rising again. “This isn’t funny.”
“It is funny.” He lifted my chin, cupped my cheeks, and kissed me. “It’s funny because I know that. It’s funny because I love you too…I just figured it out a little quicker…and it’s funny because you’re so fucking gorgeous it makes my heart hurt to think you might walk out that door when this is over and go back to your life without me.”
I licked my lips. “You love me, too?”
“Yes, Bailey. I love you, too.”
“But how do you know you love me?”
“The same way you know you love me.”
I melted into him. “Then that’s a lot. Like a lot a lot.”
“I know.” He kissed my hair. “Steaks ready for me to grill?”
I nodded, but held him a little tighter. “In a second.”
He chuckled and gave me a squeeze. We stood there for several minutes before I let him go and we went about making dinner. A very domestic act that I felt I could get used to.
* * *
Later that night, I tossed and turned, still not finding sleep an hour after I’d said goodnight. A quiet knock sounded at my door and I sat up. “Come in.”
Brock walked in and leaned against the doorframe. “You okay?”
“I can’t sleep.”
“Yeah, I know.”
I rolled my eyes. “How could you possibly know?”
“Because your feet have hit the hardwoods no less than six times since you said goodnight.” He made his way to the other side of the mattress, lifting the covers and sliding in beside me.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Keeping the demons at bay.”
I frowned. “Where’s Dallas?”
“Out.” He scooted closer, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling my back against his chest.
“He’s not here?”
“No. He’s checking on something.”
“For my stuff?”
“Yes, baby.”
“Brock. I get that you told him you loved me and everything, but if he comes home, I think he might have an issue with us in bed together.”
“I didn’t tell him I loved you.”
“What?” I whispered, sitting up again. “You lied to me?”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Bailey.”
“Oh, my god, Brock, don’t laugh at me. It’s not funny.”
“Claws back in, baby,” he said, tugging me back down. “I couldn’t tell him I loved you when I hadn’t told you yet, could I?”
“So, you didn’t lie,” I whispered.
“No, Bailey. I didn’t lie. I don’t lie.” Brock kissed my shoulder. “Look, I’m done resisting. We’re gonna do this, even if it’s here.”
“You could lose your job.”
“I won’t lose my job.”
I rolled to face him and squeezed his chin. “Isn’t there some kind of scientific data that proves relationships formed under extreme emotional distress never last?”
“When I say I’m gonna do something, I do it.”
“I get that, Brock. I really do. But what happens when life goes back to normal and we don’t work?”
Brock smiled. “Baby, we work.”
“How do you know we work? We haven’t had a normal date.”
“Didn’t you just tell me you loved me?”
“Yes.”
“You changed your mind?”
“Well, no.
Leaning forward, he kissed my collar bone. “So, we’re forged in the abnormal, but we work.”
“What if you break my heart?” I rasped as he moved down my body, slipping my camisole up and over my head and kissing my stomach.
“I won’t break your heart,” he promised, and then frowned up at me. “Bailey, you gave me the most important part of you and when I say that, I mean your heart. Something you haven’t given to anyone else. Do you really think I’ll ever let you go?”
I bit my lip.
“Baby,” he whispered, sliding back up to face me. “What?”
“What if I’m not enough? I’ve only kissed two guys before you and never had sex and you’re…well, you’re you.”
“Which means what?”
“You’ve slept with more than a few women and know exactly what you’re doing. I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep up.” I wrinkled my nose. “I might disappoint you.”
“How do you know how many women I’ve slept with?” he challenged.
“I’m guessing.”
He grinned. “Baby, you could never disappoint me.”
“You say that now because you’re horny and I’m half-naked.”
“No, I’m saying that because I’m going to marry you.”
My eyes widened. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“You’re not going to marry me.”
“I am, Bailey.”
I leaned up on my arms. “You’re not really being serious, right?”
Brock didn’t answer, just grinned, sliding down my body again to draw a nipple into his mouth. I moaned as his hand slipped between my legs, sliding my panties aside, his thumb finding my sensitive nub and working it while he slipped a finger inside of me, then two.
“Brock,” I breathed.
Sliding my lace panties from my body, he moved his mouth from my nipples and, kneeling in front of me, he pushed my legs open, kissing the inside of my thighs. I squirmed as he moved lower, and then his mouth was on me and I lost my mind. I wove my fingers into his hair as he worked my body into a frenzy. I was right. His hair was perfect to grab while he ate me out.
“Come for me, baby,” he ordered, then went back to his task.
I panted, tiny moans escaping my mouth as the orgasm built and then I climaxed, calling out his name. Brock kissed my inner thigh again and focused back on my breasts.
The rest of the night was a serious exercise in body exploration. But no sex. And even without sex, Brock managed to give me more than six orgasms using his mouth and his fingers, but without condoms, he refused to go any further.
My last coherent thought as I drifted off to sleep was, maybe I would marry him.