I realized that this didn’t make me a very nice or compassionate person, and a pretty awful daughter, but even at eight years old I’d known that I never wanted to be so dependent on a man that I couldn’t function without him. I vowed to follow Felicia’s example, to be the perfect wife on the outside, while closely guarding my heart.
And I’d been successful. I dated men who wanted the trophy, and didn’t care that I was meticulous about how I presented myself and kept my home. They knew that I would do the same as a wife one day. That I would keep a perfect home, raise well-mannered children, and never embarrass them. If I was a little standoffish, they looked past it … until they couldn’t any longer.
But with Brock, all of my well-thought-out plans didn’t seem to apply. He wasn’t looking for a wife. He didn’t expect me to be perfect. When I was standoffish, or let’s face it, bitchy, he seemed to like it.
I couldn’t figure him out, and that terrified me. What if I agreed to have a little fun, and I gave him too much? Brock not only made me feel a passion that I’d only read about in books, he was thoughtful and funny. As I stole a glance at him from beneath my lashes, I took in his caramel complexion, well-trimmed beard, and overwhelming size, and I knew in my gut that if I wasn’t careful, he would have the ability to ruin me.
When we pulled into the full lot of a small, worn-down building with bright paint and a blinking sign, I turned to him, confused. “What are you doing?”
Brock looked pointedly at the building as he parked. “Taking you out to eat.”
I looked back at the building, then at him, and asked somewhat shrilly, “Here?”
As I took in his amused look, I realized that my snob was showing in full force, but I didn’t care. I’d assumed he was taking me to a nice restaurant, since he had asked me on a date. I thought he’d want to impress me. And, so far, I was not impressed.
“You don’t like Mexican?” he asked with a grin.
I narrowed my eyes at him and spat, “Mexican?”
“Yeah, you know, the food?” Brock said with a chuckle, causing my back to straighten. “Just give it a shot, babe, what have you got to lose?”
I watched as he got out of the truck and walked around. My arms were crossed, and I have to admit, I was in the middle of a full-on pout by the time he got to my side of the truck and opened my door. He held his hand out to me, and looked so cute I decided not to punch him, letting him help me out of the cab instead. He led me to the restaurant, and I tried to reason with myself. Just because this was not what I was used to, didn’t mean I wouldn’t enjoy myself. This was part of lightening up and giving Brock a chance. It looked like I was going to have to forget about everything I’d expected from dates up to this point.
I took a deep breath as he opened the door, and when I inhaled again, a delicious aroma greeted me and my stomach began to grumble.
“Cómo estás?” the hostess greeted us as we entered the restaurant.
“Muy bien y tú?” Brock replied, and I stopped to stare at him as he had a conversation with the hostess. I was still coming to terms with the fact that Brock was speaking another language, when I realized that he’d led me to a booth in the corner and was waiting for me to take my seat. I smiled my thanks at the hostess and took my seat.
I accepted the menu, then turned to Brock once we were alone. “What was that?” I asked.
“What?” he asked absently as he perused his menu.
“You speak Spanish?” I asked sharply, thinking it was obvious that this was what I was inquiring about, and he was being obtuse.
When he looked up at me, a surprised expression on his face, I realized he wasn’t messing with me. “I thought you knew I was Mexican.”
He was?
“No, why would I?” I looked at him with fresh eyes. I guess that explained his dark complexion, but I hadn’t realized that Mexicans could have light-green eyes like his; I thought they were typically brown-eyed. I flushed as the thought ran through my mind, and I realized how ignorant that sounded, even in my own mind. Sometimes I was truly grateful that people could not read minds.
“It’s not a secret,” Brock said with a shrug, “and it’s not like the other day is the first time we’d ever met. I just figured it would have come up at some point.”
“No … at least not that I recall,” I admitted.
“Does it matter?” he asked, his tone dangerously low.
“No, of course not,” I answered truthfully. “Your speaking Spanish just took me by surprise, that’s all. I tried taking Spanish in high school, but failed miserably, so I dropped it before it had a chance to ruin my GPA.”
The waiter came to get our drink order, and Brock assured me that they served the best margaritas and I had to try one, so that’s what we both ordered.
When the waiter left us I asked, “So your parents are Mexican? Were you raised in Mexico?” I realized that I knew next to nothing about him, and was suddenly eager to learn more.
“No, we were raised here. My brothers and I,” he expanded when I gave him a curious look over the ‘we.’ “My mother was born and raised in Mexico, and moved to Boston as a teenaged girl when her father got a job there. She met my father, an Irish-American, in poetry class, and that was it. Theirs was an instant love. I used to love to hear her tell the stories of how they met when I was growing up.”
He had a small smile and a far away look on his face, so I asked as gently as I could, “Used to?”
Brock nodded. “They died ten years ago. Freak accident. No one’s fault, just a deer in the road. My father swerved to miss it and they struck a tree. I was told they died on impact.”
My heart was in my throat and I felt my eyes tear up. I reached across the table to hold his hand instinctively, not even aware that I’d done so as I whispered, “I’m so sorry.”
“It was hard,” he admitted, squeezing my hand gently. “Brendan was fourteen, and Brady, fifteen. I turned eighteen a few weeks later, got my GED, and went to work. I had to fight the courts to keep my brothers with me, but luckily everyone loved my parents, and they had friends in high places. Once they saw I was serious about providing for my brothers, and keeping us together in my parents’ home, they agreed. We had scheduled visits and all that, but it was worth it. We wouldn’t have been able to bear losing each other too.”
I was at a total loss for words. I’d never lost anyone important to me, and Brock had not only lost both parents, but had become a parent to his brothers overnight. He was the most amazing man I’d ever met.
“Your brothers are lucky to have you,” I replied softly, flexing my hand under his.
“Brady took it the hardest, and became very protective of Brendan and I, that’s why he acted the way he did at the coffee shop the other day. Don’t take it personally, his heart’s in the right place.” I nodded and took my hand from his. He ran one large hand over his face and grinned at me wryly. “I didn’t mean to get so heavy so soon. We haven’t even ordered yet,” he laughed roughly, and I smiled at him in return.
“I’m sorry,” I said softly. “I really had no idea.”
“Don’t be. I’m glad you know now,” he replied as our drinks were served. The waiter asked for our order, and after I requested the cheese enchiladas, I took a sip of my margarita and sighed. It was really good.
I looked up to see Brock looking at me intently, and I felt my insides begin to boil as he broke into a sexy smile.
“I have a proposition for you,” he said.
My stomach coiled at his words, and I must have flushed, because he amended, “Not that.” Then he chuckled and lowered his voice, “I think I’ve already made my intentions there known…” I nodded at his unspoken question, and he added, “I’m in need of a decorator for the office, and after seeing your place, I’d like to offer you the job.”
I stared at him. Flabbergasted.
“I’m not a decorator,” I argued.
“I beg to differ, I’ve seen your place.”
“That was just for fun, you know, decorating my first place on my own.”
“You said something about your GPA earlier, did you go to college?” he asked.
Confused by his change of subject, and a little disappointed that he’d accepted my argument, I replied, “Yes, I have an MBA.”
Brock sat back in his seat and whistled softly, a small smile playing at his lips as he watched the waiter place our plates in front of us, warning us that they were hot.
“You have an MBA?”
When I nodded, the only thing that gave away the fact that maybe he wasn’t feeling as casual as he appeared was the hardening of his eyes.
“And yet you’re content to sit back and be arm candy for some douchebag executive, rather than putting your degree to use.”
“Hey,” I began, offended at his words.
“What have you done since graduation?” he asked, cutting me off.
I sat there silently, until he raised an eyebrow at me, and I asked haughtily, “Oh, am I free to speak now?”
He grinned sardonically, throwing me off balance again, and nodded.
“After graduation, I was with Scott, so I attended events with him, and his mother, and did what I could to help him be successful.”
“Sounds gratifying,” he said sarcastically, causing my hackles to rise again. “And, since you and Scott broke it off?”
“Well, once his mother realized that Scott wasn’t taking me back, I stopped getting calls to attend charity events with her. And I’m obviously no longer on Scott’s invite list, so … nothing,” I replied, and once the words left my lips, I realized how true they were, and I was embarrassed.
Had I really been doing nothing the last few months? I’d gone to yoga, spent very little time with my family, and had read numerous books, but other than that … nothing.
I didn’t realize that I’d hung my head until Brock’s finger was at my chin, lifting it up to bring my gaze to his.
“So do something,” he said softly. “Come by the office tomorrow and take a look. I’ll show you what I have in mind, and you can tell me what you think. No pressure … Just give it a shot.”
As I thought about what he was offering, I realized if I took the job he was offering, it would mean that I would be seeing a lot more of him. The thought excited me as much as it terrified me, and I knew I would be accepting another one of Brock’s propositions. It seemed like he saw me in a way that no one else ever had. Not my family, not other men … not even myself, and although it may be against my better judgment, I wanted to see what else he had to offer.
Chapter 7 – Brock
I was talking on the phone in my office, staring out the window, when Brady cleared his throat to get my attention and told me that Victoria was there. I held up my finger to indicate I would be there in a minute, then turned my attention back to the phone call.
Carson Brandt was the CEO of Brandt Industries, and Scott’s boss. I’d met him at the opening of C.T. Custom Body Shop, Cal and TJ’s place, and was surprised to see a message from him waiting on my desk when I’d arrived this morning. It seemed he was expanding and had acquired some new property, and when he’d mentioned wanting to repaint, Scott had recommended me.
“Yes, Mr. Brandt, Thursday at ten a.m. sounds perfect. I’ll be there,” I said in response to his question about my availability to have a meeting to go over his expectations.
“Wonderful, I’ll see you then, Brock,” he said in parting, before hanging up the phone.
I stood there for a moment, grinning out my window, as I thought about what a contract with Brandt Industries could mean for O’Malley Brothers. When I walked out to the front to greet Victoria, I was still riding the high of the phone call. So, it was without even thinking that I walked straight to Victoria, barely registering the shock on her face, before I dipped her low and covered her lips with mine.
The kiss was one of joy, not passion, but I enjoyed the softness of her lips, and her small gasp of surprise, before I righted her and pulled away, smiling down into her perfectly made up face.
“C’mon back¸” I said, taking her hand in mine and leading her toward my office. “Hold my calls,” I added to a smirking grinning Brady.
“Good call?” he asked as we passed.
“I’ll tell you all about it,” I replied as we walked out.
Victoria remained quiet as we walked down the hall, and I thought back to the end of our date last night. When we got back to her condo, I’d walked her to the door and kissed her softly on the lips, before reminding her to stop by the office today and wishing her a good night. She’d stood on the steps, obviously confused, and I’d had to bite back a smile as I jogged back to my truck. I knew she’d expected me to try and come in, continuing our date after dinner, but I didn’t want to rush things. I knew the end result would be even better with a little anticipation. So even though my body had been taut with need, and I’d wanted nothing more than to ravage her against her front door, I’d controlled my urges and left.
I hadn’t been entirely sure she’d show up this morning, but I could admit that I was really pleased that she had.
“How are you this morning?” I asked as I shut the door to my office.
Victoria slowly turned, looking around the room, before her eyes landed on me and she asked, “What was that all about?” She waved a hand toward the front office.
“I just got off the phone with a possible new account. A big one. I’m pretty stoked about it, and when I saw you standing there, looking so very kissable, I went with my instinct.” I said this in a low tone as I slowly stalked toward her. Her body stiffened at my tone, and she watched me approach her warily, as if she wasn’t yet sure how to handle me.
That was good. If I had any hope of breaking through her well-built barriers, I needed to keep her on her toes.
I stopped a breath away from her, making her tilt her head back to maintain eye contact, and I put my hand up to run it down her silky sable hair, my gaze following its descent.
I tipped my head down toward her, stopping right before our mouths met, and asked, “Did I make you uncomfortable?”
Her violet eyes darkened as the heat from my breath caressed her lips, and she shook her head slightly.
“Embarrass you?” My eyes searched hers.
Her head barely moved, but it was still a no.
“Did you like it?” My voice deepened as my body reacted to the look on her face. To having her so close. To smelling her perfume, as the heat of her body reached out toward mine.
Victoria began to nod, but she didn’t get a chance to finish the movement before my lips caught hers. She softened beneath me, her body leaning into me, pliant, as my arms came around her and I deepened the kiss. She whimpered when I nibbled softly on her full bottom lip, and it took ever ounce of willpower I had to tear my mouth away. Her eyes were closed, her lips pink and glistening, and she looked more beautiful than anything I’d ever seen. My body screamed at me to take her, and I knew I wanted more than a quick fuck with this woman. I wanted to be the man to put that look on her face, over and over again.
Shit. It looked like things just got complicated.
I gently pulled away, then put some distance between us, and watched as Victoria went from soft and pliant to the composed and distant woman I had met so many months ago. If I hadn’t been warring with my own emotions, I would have been fascinated to watch the change happen.
“Sorry,” I said gruffly, running my hands down my face and over my beard, smoothing it as I tried to gain my composure. I wasn’t quite as efficient at it as Victoria obviously was. “I didn’t mean to maul you. I don’t want you to think that taking a job here is a ploy. I’m serious about the decorating, and I don’t want you to worry about me coming on to you at work. I’ll remain professional.”
I watched what looked like disappointment flit across her face before she shut it down. So I amended my statement, “I mean to say I’ll remain professional at work … But I still want
to see you, Victoria. I haven’t changed my mind about that.”
She smiled slightly and nodded, but I could see her shoulders relax a little, so I pushed forward.
“You saw the front, and this is my office. It’s not a huge space, but I’d like it to look professional. The front is the reception area, with a desk for Brady, and I’d like to put in another desk, and maybe a counter, for a receptionist. Brady’s workload is getting heavier, now that he’s heading up more projects, so I’ll need to hire someone to handle the paperwork. That’s the first place customers see, so I want it to look inviting, not cold. This is a family business, and I think the décor should reflect that. The same goes for my office. I don’t want it to look fussy and girly, but I don’t want it to look like some industrial workspace either. Comfortable, yet professional.” Victoria was quiet while I spoke, eyes never leaving me, so I asked, “Am I making sense? I don’t know how to talk about this stuff, but hopefully you get what I’m saying.”
“Perfectly,” Victoria said, a small smile playing on her lips. “I think I know what you’d like. If you don’t mind, I’ll look around at the space, then go home and work some stuff up. I’ll have some ideas for you by the end of the week, and you can tell me what you think. We’ll go from there.”
“So, you’ll do it?” I asked, pleased and excited at the prospect of having Victoria work in my space.
“I’ll come up with some ideas and we’ll see if it works,” she replied. Not committing to anything, but at least seeming to be excited about the idea.
“Great!” I said, meaning it. When she turned to open the door, I stopped her. “Victoria.” She turned and I continued, “Since you aren’t working for me yet, can I get one more kiss before you go? I promise to keep it strictly professional in the office from here on out.” I made a show of crossing my heart, causing her to grin. Each grin from her was so unexpected that I wanted to make it my life’s mission to make it happen as often as possible.