Then he leaned back and held my eyes so I said the only thing I could say, “Free cake for life.”

Instantly, his face split into a smile that was not solemn and took ten years off his age. He was not difficult to look at normally but he was extremely handsome when he smiled.

So I told him so. “You have a very nice smile, Dade.”

“Thank you, Tess, and hopefully in the not too distant future, I’ll be doing it more often.”

I nodded. “I hope so too,” I said quietly. Then I said, “I’m sorry this is happening to you.”

His smile turned small again before he used my words to reply, “You and me both.”

Then I shared, “Evidence is suggesting that I may be in the boys’ lives for awhile and, if I am, I’d like for us to work together to find ways for you to stay in their lives too.”

The light died in his eyes but they got bright in another way, he swallowed, controlling his emotions and his smooth voice was rough when he said, “I would appreciate that, my dear.”

“I’ll talk to Brock,” I whispered, reaching out and grabbing his hand.

He turned it in mine and gave me a squeeze.

Then he let me go, started to stand and I went up with him.

“Take care of yourself, Tess,” he said and I moved toward him, put my hands on his shoulders and touched my cheek to his.

Leaving it there, in his ear I whispered, “You too, Dade. Anything you need, I’m here.”

His fingers curled around my upper arms, gave them a squeeze and I moved back. He again let me go, smiled his solemn smile and then walked out of the shop.

I snatched up the folder and envelope, hoofed it to my office (which was now Martha’s office, really) and found her on the computer.

“Can you give me two shakes?” I asked. “I need to talk to Brock. Private. Good news. I’ll fill you in in a sec but he gets the news first.”

She studied my face, nodded and didn’t delay in dashing out and closing the door behind her.

I pulled out my phone, called Brock and held it to my ear as I dumped my purse and the folder and envelope on my desk.

“Babe,” he answered as I opened the folder.

“I got a surprise visitor at the shop today,” I told him and didn’t make him wait. “Dade came by.”

“Shit,” he clipped.

“No,” I said quickly, turned over some papers and went mute at seeing a photo of Olivia doing it doggie style with a very muscled young man at least twenty years her junior and I also noted that repeated commentary from Brock was proved irrevocably correct through photo evidence. She was beautiful but she was bony.

Ick.


“Tess?” Brock called, his voice terse.

I slapped the folder closed and grunted, “Ugh.”

“Babe, what the fuck?”

“Um… wait a sec while my retinas recover from being seared.”

“Tess,” he growled.

Crap. Time to pull it together.

“Honey, Dade just gave me copies of his private investigator’s reports and photos as well as a sworn affidavit as to Olivia’s behavior after their marriage as it pertains to the boys. He’s going to be contacting your attorneys to tell them he will stand as a witness to her unsuitability to parent. And, if what I just saw does not set her attorneys scrambling to give you everything you want, he’s going to talk to some of his buds who ‘wear robes and command gavels’, his words, to see that this nightmare is sorted out sooner not later.”

Brock was silent.

Then he asked, “What did you just see?”

“Let’s just say what I saw means you aren’t getting one of your favorite positions for a long time because it might take eternity for the image of her getting boinked by what appeared to be a boy toy to heal considering it’s burned like acid on my brain.”

More silence then, “No shit?”

“Would I shit about that?” I asked then I answered before he could. “No.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” he muttered, sounding shocked but also pleased.

I sucked in breath.

Then I told him softly, “He cares a great deal about Joey and Rex.”

A pause and then, “Yeah. The boys think he’s the shit too.”

This was good.

“Do you want me to bring these to you at the Station or do you want me to drop them by your attorney’s office?” I offered.

“You got the time, take them to Smith. If you don’t, I’ll try to get away and take them myself.”

“I’ll carve out the time.”

Another pause then, “Thanks, sweetness.”

“My pleasure,” I said with feeling then asked, “Do you drink champagne?”

“If I have to,” he answered and I started laughing.

Through my laughter I told him, “Well, tonight, you have to. We have things to celebrate, baby.”

“Fuckin’ finally.”

“Yeah,” I whispered.

Then he commenced in rocking my world.

“You got a lot on your plate and on your mind but I hope to God what McManus gave you means there’s no time to waste. So, if my boys make a move it’s probably best for them that they make a permanent one, not one that leads to two. A buddy of mine in the unit just left his wife, moved in with his brother and sister-in-law. He’s not a big fan of his sister-in-law and only a slightly bigger fan of his brother. He’s lookin’ and he’d sublet from me. He left with nothin’ but suitcases so he’ll sublet furnished which’ll give us time to sort out two houses full of stuff. And it’s time we put this two house bullshit to rest, babe. It’s gonna happen eventually, it might as well happen now.”

My heart started hammering in my chest and I whispered, “Now?”

“Now,” he stated firmly.

I stared at my desk.

“Tess?”

I kept staring at my desk.


“Baby, you there?”

I kept right on staring at my desk.

“Tess, baby, talk to me.”

The joyful sob hitched audibly in my throat before I declared, “You better drink champagne tonight.”

Brock was silent then he said gently, “I take it I’m movin’ in.”

“Fuck yes!” I cried then another happy sob hitched audibly in my throat.

Brock expressed his happiness through a deep chuckle.

I swiped at my wet cheeks and told him, “I wish this wasn’t happening over the phone so I could kiss you.”

“You can kiss me tonight.”

“Hard,” I clarified.

“Hard,” he rumbled through another chuckle.

I sucked in a calming breath. Then I whispered, “I love you.”

“Yeah, sweetness, me too.”

“I’ll get this over to your attorneys.”

“Appreciate it.”

“See you tonight.”

“Absolutely.”

“Bye, honey.”

“Later, babe.”

Then we disconnected.

I stared at the envelope and folder.

Then I put my phone on the desk, looked to the door and shouted, “Martha!”

* * * * *

“Brock,” I breathed then his mouth went away, I whimpered my protest but his hands went to my hips, rolled me to my belly, they went back to my hips then he hauled me up to my knees.

Then he was between them. Then, instead of his tongue darting inside me, his cock thrust there.

My head flew back and I went up to my hands, totally in the zone, totally loving this, totally not thinking of Olivia at all.

He kept thrusting as his hands slid from my hips, up my waist, in, over my ribs to cup my breasts then he tugged on my nipples and that felt fucking great so I moaned.

“Love your tits,” he grunted, still pounding hard and deep.

“Baby,” I whispered.

His hands slid back to my hips, clenched my flesh and pulled them in to meet his thrusts.

“Love this cunt,” he growled.

“Oh my God,” I gasped.

“Hurry, sweetness,” he urged, voice thick.

“Yeah,” I whispered.

The pounding got faster, harder, his hands jerking my hips back to meet each one.

“Hurry, baby,” he semi-repeated, his voice now hoarse but he didn’t have to say it. I was hurrying, so much, I’d hurried and it was on me.

“Brock,” I breathed then gasped then moaned, back arching to the bed, ass to the ceiling as it thundered through me.

“Fuck yeah,” he grunted, going deeper, harder, faster, five thrusts then he was there, joining me.

When we were coming down, silently and gently, he moved in and out and, silently and happily, I let him and enjoyed every stroke.


After awhile, he pulled out then his hands glided down my sides and in, pulling me up in front of him until I was on my knees, my back pressed to his front. Then his fingers fisted in the little, slinky, sexy dress that Brock liked, like, a lot, that was bunched at my waist and he pulled it up. I lifted my arms for him; he yanked it free and tossed it to the side of the bed.

Then his face went into my neck as his hands roamed my body and, against my skin, he murmured, “Love you, baby.”

I lifted an arm to glide my fingers in his hair and whispered back, “Love you too, Brock.”

Carefully, he turned me and deposited me on my back in the bed then turned his attention to the strappy, high-heeled sandals I still wore. One by one, he unbuckled them and they joined my dress on the floor. But after each one he kissed the inside of my ankle.

Once he was done, he moved his body to cover mine and I moved my legs to surround him, one around his ass, one I curved around the back of his thigh and I did this as my arms circled him, holding him tight.

Brock put some weight into his forearm but his other hand came to my face and he traced it with his fingertips while I traced his with my eyes.

“You know,” I whispered and his silvery-gray eyes came to mine, “the first time we were together, after you made me come, I looked at you and my first thought was how beautiful you were.”