He tipped his chin up at his wife and sat down next to his brother.

Half an hour later, a woman in a white doctor’s coat walked in.

“Levi Lucas?” she called but Levi was already up and walking across the small room, Brock at his back, his family behind him.

“She okay?” Levi asked.

“She’s fine, baby’s fine. We’ll have to discuss curtailing activity for awhile to see this through but right now, both are safe and healthy.”

“Thank God,” Fern whispered and Brock heard Jill’s shuddering breath and Laura’s choked whimper.

“Can I see her?” Levi asked.

“I’ll take you to her.”

Levi didn’t look back at his family as he walked away.

Brock watched his brother then felt Tess burrow under his arm.

He curled it around her shoulders and looked down into her eyes.

She caught his for a second before she did a face plant in his chest, her arms moving around him, her body giving his her weight.

He held her.

Then he sucked in breath.

An hour and a half later, in his truck while Tess was in her car on the way to get the boys from Dade’s, he ordered a Famous pizza for his birthday meal.

* * * * *

In the middle of studying his face, the tips of her fingers moving over it, Tess started giggling.

This was unusual. Not her studying his face after he made her come, after he came and when he was still buried inside her. She did that often and he let her because he liked to see what was working behind her eyes as they moved over his features. He liked it a fuck of a lot.

Her giggling in the middle of doing it, now that was unusual.

He found instantly he liked that too. Then again, he liked it anytime Tess laughed.

“What’s funny?” he asked, getting the question in over her escalating laughter.

“Ma… Ma… Martha,” she stammered, lifting her head to shove it in his neck, her hands sliding around his shoulders so both her arms and legs could convulse around him.

“Martha?” he asked her pillow.

She sucked in breath and dropped her head back down, her eyes coming to his as she nodded.

There was a lot that was funny about Martha. The bitch was a scream. She hadn’t toned down the drama and likely at her age, she never would. But she loved Tess and she’d cottoned onto the fact that Brock would accept her drama in Tess’s life as long as it had no negative affects and she saw to it that was so. She also loved his boys and didn’t hide it. They thought she was a scream too. So, since her drama was mostly humorous and not annoying, Brock liked her and she made no bones about liking him and, he had to admit, he liked that too.

He figured his wife’s sudden onset of humor had something to do with the fact that Calhoun had come into Tess’s bakery about five months ago. When he did, Tess had gone direct into matchmaking mode and hooked him up with Martha. Calhoun took the bait and was still hooked. Martha didn’t hide any of her drama from Calhoun and, surprising the fuck out of Brock, Calhoun apparently got off on it.

Whatever. To each their own.

And anyway, the crazy dance between DEA Agent Calhoun and Martha Shockley provided his wife with a variety of things to giggle over when she told him about them. And he was happy with that.

She released her legs from around him, planted her feet in the bed and bucked her hips slightly telling him what she wanted.

He gave it to her. Sliding out gently, he watched her lips part, her eyelids get soft, that sexy-as-hell look that communicated both pleasure and disappointment at losing him being the second best part of fucking her (or the third, maybe the fourth, though it could be the fifth). Then he gave her what she wanted and rolled them so he was on his back, she was on top.

She placed a forearm in his chest, her other hand at his neck under his jaw and suddenly her face got serious.

“What?” he whispered, her eyes slid from her hand at his jaw to his, she tipped her head to the side and she gave him more of her weight, her soft flesh pressing into his.

“When you came back,” she started, her voice soft, “after what went down with you and me with you investigating Damian…” She trailed off then started again, “When you came back, later, when I was at the shower and I confessed to Martha about everything that went down, well, you know, honey, she wasn’t your biggest fan back then.”

His hands which were spanning her hips slid down to cup her ass.

“I know.”

Her lips tipped up in a small grin. “Well, she said I had my head in the sand. She said most women would take one look at you and know you were fun to play with but you weren’t the one for the long haul. But me, she said I took one look at you and had visions of white picket fences and making you birthday cakes until the day you die.”

She swallowed, the smile died and her eyes grew bright.

Brock held his breath, his fingers clenching into her ass and he waited.

“She was wrong,” Tess whispered. “I was right.” She drew in breath through her nose, dipped her face closer and the pads of her fingers dug into his neck then she finished, “We don’t have a white picket fence, baby, but I’m going to bake you birthday cakes until the day you die.”

He let out the breath he was holding, the burn in his lungs moving to become warmth in his gut, his hands sliding from her ass up her back, one arm curving around, the other one going up her spine, her neck so he could sift his fingers in her hair as he whispered,

“Sweetness.”

“I’m glad it’s me who gets to bake your birthday cakes.”

He was happy she was glad but he reckoned he was a fuck of a lot happier he had Tess making his cakes and not just because they were the best fucking things he’d ever tasted.

He closed his eyes, shoved his face in her neck and rolled her to back, groaning, “Tess.”


“My Brock,” she whispered, her lips at his ear, her limbs moving to grow tight around him, “he’s not so wild.”

He lifted his head and brought it close, locking his eyes with hers.

“You’re wrong, darlin’, I got wild in me. And I’ll never lose it. It’s just that my wild is a safe place for you and it always will be.”

Her eyes got soft and one of her hands slid from around him to cup his cheek as she nodded.

Then her thumb moved to trace his lower lip as she asked, “Did you have a good birthday, Slim?”

He grinned against her thumb and answered, “I started it in bed with you wearin’ a sweet nightie and I ended it in bed with you wearin’ an even sweeter nightie, so, yeah, outside the drama at the hospital, I had a great birthday, Tess.”

She grinned back and asked, “So you liked your birthday present?”

His hand glided down the emerald green silk at her side as he dropped his mouth to hers and muttered, “Fuck yeah.”

Her fingers slid from his cheek and into his hair as she muttered back, “Good.”

Brock was done talking and he shared this with his wife when he slanted his head. Tess read him loud and clear and tilted hers. He put pressure on her lips, she opened hers, his tongue slid inside and she welcomed it.

And, with that, his sweet Tess made a great birthday even fucking better.