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"Brock," I whispered.

"Thanks for dealin' with the kids so I could deal with Mom and Dad."

"You're welcome," I said softly and he pulled my face to his for a lip touch then moved it back an inch whereupon I informed him, "Just a head's up. Grady hears stuff, so much of it, he might go out of his way to listen and he doesn't forget much."

He pulled in a breath. Then he shared openly, "We got dissension. Laura and my older sister Jill want my Dad back in the fold. My younger brother Levi, Laura's husband Austin, Jill's partner Fritz and obviously my Mom disagree. Austin because he's overprotective of Laura. He met her two years after she was raped, she was still raw but he liked what he saw, put on the kid gloves and hasn't taken them off. He's a good man, a family man and he loves her. He doesn't like the history and he didn't like it when my Dad came around and asked for money. Fritz because Fritz likes his money and that's because he works his ass off for it and anyone comin' around and askin' him to give it away isn't real popular. Levi because my brother hasn't worked shit through, he's got a short fuse, carries a mean grudge and takes loyalty to extremes. Shit's comin' to a head. There's a lot of talk. Grady's a smart kid, he feels deep, he loves his Mom and he's gonna hear and be confused." He paused then said, "I'll have a word with Laura."

"Why is this happening?" I asked. "I mean, you're all adults. Can't those who want your Dad in their fold do it and those who don't ?"

Brock cut me off with, "Dad's got cancer, Tess."

My body stilled on top of his and I whispered, "Ohmigod."

"Yeah," he whispered back. "This is the second time. It's come back. First time, he beat it easy. This time, they say it's more aggressive. He wants to make amends, wants his family back, wants peace in case he passes. There are those in our ranks who question his motives and timing. There are those who see our Dad is gettin' old, he's sick, he's not only fucked us over but also a lot of other people so he's lonely and he's a social guy but even if he wasn't, lonely isn't good when you're sick. So we got dissension, it's bringin' up shit that's been buried awhile and emotions are high."

I slid my hand up to curl my fingers around his neck as I whispered, "I'm so sorry, honey."

"I am too. This shit sucks."

"Yeah it does," I agreed, still whispering and I saw his eyes intense on me.

Then he asked quietly, "How'd your Dad pass?"

"Hepatitis C," I answered. "No one knows how he got it but he was an EMT when he was younger so maybe something happened on a call. He had it for ages before they caught it. He was close to dying when he got a donor liver but it attacked the new one and still, he lived twelve years after that before it beat him."

"And your Mom hated him because...?"

"Mom hated him because he fell in love with his partner in his ambulance and they got married two weeks after the divorce was final. She was humiliated and I get that. But he also genuinely loved Donna. I mean truly, he adored her and it just sucked that he found her after he found Mom. Mom isn't a bitch or a crazy person, she just wasn't his other half and Donna was. He felt guilty all his life and made that clear but she never let it go. She isn't like that with anyone else but unfortunately, for her, Dad was her other half and she genuinely loved him, truly adored him so her heart just broke and never mended."

"Makes you wonder why we do this shit," he muttered and I had to admit, there were a lot of times I agreed.

Though, the four months with him and the last three days, I didn't.

"Why does your brother want to break your ex-wife's neck?" I asked and he shook his head but smiled.

"Because he loves me and she made me miserable for ten years. The four of us kids were close growin' up and sometimes, honest to God, Tess, sometimes I could swear the only things Levi wants in life are to see Jill, Laura and me happy. He's not married, never has been, has dedicated his life to his career, his summer softball league, his season tickets to the Broncos, gettin' laid as often as he can and his family. He's the one we all call to babysit, he's the emergency contact at all the kids' schools, he never fails to prop his latest piece in a chair at the dining room table at Mom's house for Thanksgiving dinner and he runs his ass ragged to get to every house on Christmas."

"I don't know if that sounds nice or a little crazy," I shared cautiously.

"You and me both, babe. I get his struggle. There were times I wondered if I'd grow up to be Dad and let a good woman down and fuck over my family because none of us know why the fuck he did all the shit he did and, as a man, you watch the man whose seed made you and you think that shit's in you. Then again, you also gotta live your life and if that beast lives within, you gotta have the balls at least to try and tame it. But the beast doesn't live within.

This is not to say that I didn't think of steppin' out on Olivia who was a pain in my ass but I didn't have it in me. And when it got so miserable I couldn't take it anymore and I had the choice of eatin' shit my whole life and teachin' my sons eatin' shit was the right thing to do, which it isn't, or getting out from under that mess and showing them it was important to be a man and find my own happiness, I made that choice for me and for them. Levi doesn't get that life will always be fucked one way or another and you can't run away from it. He's living a life that's been over for years. We aren't livin' with Mom and doin' our homework at the kitchen table. That family's changed and that life is gone and he needs to make his own life and his own family."

"Have you told him this?"

"Getting my brother to listen is like convincing him to let it go about Olivia or Dad. It is just not gonna happen."

"My sister lives in Australia and my mother lives in Florida," I told him, he grinned and let my hair go as his arms wrapped around me.

"Finally, two things that show my Tess can be lucky."

My body relaxed into his and I shared, "I miss them every day."

His eyes moved over my face as he murmured, "Yeah."

"Thanksgivings suck. I either go to Florida, where it's just Mom and me and that's okay but that isn't like having a full table with kids being loud and wondering what girl your philandering brother is going to bring to dinner. Or she's in Australia and I have to find a friend close to mooch dinner from. Those are worse."

The skin around his eyes went soft and he muttered, "My poor Tess."

I moved my face a half an inch closer and my fingers tensed into his neck for a second before I said quietly, "I guess what I'm saying is, all this seems like it sucks but it doesn't.

It's all based in love and history and loyalty so really it's kind of beautiful because the alternative would be not having any of that and then where would you be?"

Brock didn't answer. No, instead, his eyes looked into mine for long moments before his hand slid up in my hair, his body rolled me so I was again on my back, he was again on me and his mouth had captured mine and he was delivering a hard, deep, wet kiss that took my breath away.

When he lifted his head, I fought for my breath as well as control of several areas of my body and he asked, "You hungry, babe?"

"Yes," I breathed because that was the truth, I was, but I was happy to eat later, as in, lunch the next day.

Brock grinned and the sight of it with his handsome face close, his hard body pressed the length of mine and my lips (and other places besides) still tingling from his kiss, I again lost control of those several areas of my body.

Therefore, to move my mind from him and what he was doing to those places, I blurted, "I think I've got popsicle juice on my back."

"I'll pay for the dry cleaning."

"That's okay. I kick ass with hand wash."

He grinned again.

Then he asked, "Snickerdoodles?"

From the look in his eyes I knew that he knew I'd marked they were his favorites.

Therefore I shrugged and said, "The first time I made them, you ate, like, seven and you gravitate to cinnamon. It doesn't take a mind reader to figure out you like them."

He shook his head, still grinning but now muttering, "No games, no lies, no bullshit."

What could I say? This was true.

So I didn't say anything.

He did and this was a murmured, "Let's get you fed."

Then he knifed off me, grabbed my hand and pulled me off the couch then into the kitchen.

Then he fed me.

Then he ate three snickerdoodles.

Then he took me to bed.

Oh God. Oh my God. "Fuck, Tess," Brock growled and, not able to hold myself up anymore, I fell forward into a hand in the bed beside him as I kept riding him hard, grinding down to take him deep, his fingers on one hand clamped encouragingly around my hip as his thumb on the other continued to press and roll against my clit.

My dazed eyes focused on him as the sensations between my legs trembled down the tops of my thighs, warmed my belly, glided up to swell my breasts making the silk covering them beautiful torture at my nipples and up further so even my scalp tingled.

I ground down on his cock, rolling my hips as my free hand went to his face, sliding down his throat then down further to explore the sleek, solid wall of his chest as I held his heated, mercury eyes and whispered, "God, honey, you're so fucking beautiful."

At my words, he bucked his hips so forcefully, I nearly went flying then his torso knifed up, his arm clamped around me and he whipped me to my back. His hips driving into mine, his thumb still at my clit, he captured my mouth in a searing hot kiss and didn't let go even as I whimpered the warning of my fast approaching orgasm into his mouth. And he still didn't let go as one of my arms convulsed around his back, the other hand drove into his hair and fisted, my feet planted themselves in his bed, my hips surged up and I exploded with a sharp cry against his tongue.

Still coming, Brock's thumb disappeared and both his hands yanked my legs up and around his hips, he gave me his weight then both hands went to my ass and he jerked my hips up, deepening his pounding thrusts. His mouth finally released mine in order for his to grunt, each noise he made throbbed into the walls of my sex and the subsiding wave built and, to my shock, started crashing in again.

"Brock." His name came from somewhere deep, breathy with surprise and low with pleasure as the second orgasm rolled over me. My nails dragged his back and my neck started to arch but one of his hands left my hip and slid into my hair, fingers fisting and holding my head steady so he could watch.

The wave receded again just as his thrusts lost their rhythm but increased their violence then, still driving deep, I watched his head tilt back and listened to his release.

When it stopped being vocal and his thrusts regained a rhythm, this one slower and starting to gentle, I lifted my head and pressed my lips against his throat.

He let me do this but when my head dropped back to the bed, his face moved to my neck and, still gliding slowly in and out, his hands started to roam over the silk at my sides.

I held him tight in three limbs, my hand in his thick hair sliding through repeatedly as both our heart rates slowed, our breath evened and finally he stopped stroking and stayed planted inside me.

Then, against my skin, with a gentle tug on the material at one side, he asked, "To sleep, you gotta change outta this into a normal nightie?"

I laughed softly and stopped stroking his hair to wind my arm around his shoulders.

After dinner and snickerdoodles, he took me to his bedroom where we fooled around on his bed until we were fooling around partially unclothed then we were seriously fooling around because we were totally naked. He took his time, I took mine and only at the end when it was skin against skin and breathing was so labored there were no whispered words that it got wild and energetic.

This, of course, totally blew out of the water the plan I came up with while kick-boxing but, undeterred, after we were done, when I hit his bathroom to take out my contacts and prepare for bed, I slid on the short, deep lavender nightie with slits up the sides, thick edges of delicate black lace and a pair of black lace panties all of which cost a fortune because it was pure silk and the lace was extraordinary.

In glasses and wearing what I thought was an in-joke; I walked into Brock's bedroom only to find Brock didn't think my nightie was funny. I knew this when his eyes hit me, his whole face got dark, the air in the room became so sweltering it felt like it was pressing against my skin and the minute I got close to the bed, he moved. Lunging toward me, his arm hooked me at the waist and he yanked me into the bed, pulled off my glasses, tossed them unheeded on the nightstand and we started up again. This time, from start to finish, it was wild and energetic, no pleasant exploration, no lazy caresses; it was hot, heavy and completely abandoned.

I answered his question with, "Actually, it's kinda comfy."

His head came up and he looked down at me. "Good, 'cause I like it."

I grinned at him and whispered, "I kinda got that."

He grinned back then his head descended so his mouth could touch mine then it slid down my cheek to work at my neck, slow, lazy and sweet.

His hips moved slightly as he pulled out gently and I drew in a soft breath at the feel of it and the fact I didn't like the loss of him then my arms gave him a squeeze as my head turned.

In his ear, I whispered, "I have to go get cleaned up."

His head came up, his sated eyes caught mine and he whispered back, "All right, baby."

Then his face dipped to my throat, his lips touched me there and he rolled off.

I rolled the other way, got off the bed, snatched up my panties and headed to his bathroom.

The good news was, his bathroom was clean though he could use new towels since he clearly bought his in the same year he bought his pickup and his furniture. Not to mention, the bathroom had been installed before The Brady Bunch was in reruns.

Still, it wasn't icky which was what I decided to focus on.

I did my thing, slid on my panties and bent over the basin to look at myself in the mirror.

Hair wild, face flushed, lips swollen, nipples still hard against the silk, I stared and for the first time in my entire life, taking in my reflection, I thought I might be a little bit of all right.

Then I grinned, turned out the light and walked back into the bedroom.

Brock was leaned across the bed and turning off the light at my side. As I joined him in it, he was turned the other way and turning off the light at his.

When he was done, he reached out to me, gathered me in his arms, pulled my front close to his, tangled his long legs with mine and his arm, slanted up my back so his hand was in my hair, pulled me deeper as he pushed my face against his chest.

I turned it so I was resting my cheek there and slid an arm around his waist.

"Thanks for dinner," I whispered against his chest.

"Best part about it was desert," he whispered back and I smiled.

Then I sighed.

Then I told him, "I like your family."

His fingers tensed against my scalp before he murmured, "Good."

It was then, keeping it real, which was the only way I knew how to do it, I shared, "Um...

just FYI, and I'll preface this by saying this is not an act of a psycho woman invading your life but a rescue effort, I'm buying you new towels and, uh... new dishtowels as a priority one mission."

His voice held a smile when he asked, "A rescue effort?"

"Someone needs to put yours out of their misery."

There was a short, deep chuckle I not only heard but also felt before, "Sweetness, I got an ex who cleaned me out seven years ago, a job which means I'm rarely home and this includes me bein' under deep cover on an assignment that lasted a year and a half, a year of that where I had zero contact with family, even my kids, and I got two boys who are at an age they don't give a shit about anything but the fact the TV works and food is in the fridge and, considering they're boys, they'll probably never be at an age where they give a shit about anything but TV and food. Towels are not a priority and dishtowels are definitely not a priority."

My head tipped back to look at his shadowed jaw in the dark room. "You didn't see your kids or family for a year?"

His head tipped down and I felt his eyes on my face. "I didn't see it taking that long but it did so another, bigger reason for my statue of liberty play with Darla."

"Oh," I whispered thinking that now definitely made sense and it made sense before it was just that now it made more sense then I asked, "Does that happen often?"

"I'd had to take undercover work before, not often but it happened and it was another reason Olivia made my life a misery."

This, I had to admit, made sense too.

"She didn't like your job?"

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