Wild Man

Chapter Twenty I Take It I’m Movin’ In

“I’m telling you girl, I think it’s perfect,” Martha declared from beside me in my car and she was right. It was perfect. Terrifyingly so.

We’d just come from viewing some space in Writer Square in LoDo. It was fabulous, great foot traffic, sandwiched between 16th Street Mall and Larimer Square, visibility from 15th Street and Larimer, sidewalk seating opportunity.

But the rent was a whack.

I was six months from paying off the business loan I got to open my first location so I knew how much it cost to set up a bakery. Location and setup costs were close to crippling.

One and one were equaling thousands.

It was just under three weeks since Brock suggested Martha be brought in to take the load off. I’d called her and discussed it the next day. She’d jumped at it, no hesitation. She loved the idea. And I knew she loved the idea for, upon sharing it with her, she screamed in my ear,

“I frickin’ love that idea! ”

She had a good job and her pay was excellent, no way I could match it, but she said she’d take the hit for peace of mind and the opportunity to work close to my cakes. I promised a pay hike once the second location was up and going and turning a profit.

Oh, and of course, free cakes.

Martha put in notice and enrolled in accountancy classes the next day. I bought payroll software. I was going to save on outsourcing those and my business account was super healthy therefore, with both, I could easily absorb her additional salary, not to mention, that freed me up to make more cakes.

Still, my account balance wasn’t so healthy I could start a new location without additional capital, though this wouldn’t be a problem because my bank contacted me approximately one point seven times a month asking if I wanted a further loan. Then again, my loan manager had four kids, a husband, six brothers and sisters and the offspring they created and they all got birthday cakes from me so she knew I was a viable risk.

But I still needed a getaway with Brock and the boys. I had decided all-inclusive, five-star just because we deserved it and I had also decided I was going to pay for it just because Brock had lawyer bills and a cop’s salary and, unfortunately, him and both of his sons had birthdays all sandwiched in the same week of the same month, this month – February. This was a cruel twist of fate for anyone who had their names on their present list. This was also a perfect excuse for me to take them all on vacation without Brock going macho apeshit (hopefully).

“And I’m telling you, Martha, I don’t know. The rent is pretty steep,” I told her (again) as I wended my way through Cherry Creek North toward my shop. “Maybe we should look into something on The Mall or lower LoDo around My Brother’s Bar?”

“I get where you’re coming from but that location is Tessa’s Cakes,” she replied.

“Already, you’re in Cherry Creek and that isn’t exactly shantytown.”

This was true. My rent for my current bakery was also a whack.

Martha kept going. “The Mall is out, it’s cool but it’s not Tessa’s Cakes and lower LoDo is awesome but it isn’t established awesome like Writer Square unless you’re talking about Brother’s or Paris on the Platte which are only established because they’ve been there yonks.

Not to mention, foot traffic is way less. Practically every shop in Writer Square is fabulous and they’ve all been there for years. And they have flair. You’ll fit right in.”

She was right about that, all of it.

Eek!

“Tessa,” she went on and I could tell by her voice she was facing me and I could also tell by her voice she’d hit her “listen to me, I’m being deadly serious” mode, “your cakes don’t say 16th Street Mall and they don’t say lower LoDo. They say Larimer Square but you’ve nixed that because of the rent so the next best thing is Writer Square. This is perfect, honey.

This is you. ”

She was right about that too. All of it.

Yikes.

Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to hire someone who knew me and understood my vision.

Maybe it was scary.

Damn.

Oh well. Nighties and sanity were on the line. And I didn’t hire Martha to do payroll and create schedules. I hired Martha to help me expand then to look after my vision when I did.

There was nothing for it.

“Okay, call them and tell them we want it.”

“Yee ha! ” she shrieked.

Dear God.

I pulled into the parking lot beside my bakery and parked in the spot that had the sign,

“Reserved for Tessa, you park here, you don’t get cake” on the building in front of it. Then I switched off the ignition. Then my phone rang.

Martha, holding my purse in her lap, dug through it, nosily looked at it and mumbled,

“Bad boy hot guy,” then handed me the phone and started to exit the car, finishing, “I’m gonna go make the call now.”

Then she was gone.

I took Brock’s call.

“Hey.”

“Well?”

He knew I was viewing the location.

“It’s fabulous,” I answered his mostly unasked question.

“And?”

I grinned at my dash.

“My guess is, even though she was exiting my car with great haste while the phone was ringing with this call from you, still Martha’s right now on the phone in the office with the landlord saying we’ll take it.”

Silence then, “Good, baby.”

“I’m scared out of my mind, Brock,” I admitted.

“Be stupid not to be, Tess,” he replied, not in a whisper and I pulled in breath. “It’s a risk but it’s a risk worth taking. And it’s a lot of work but it’s work worth doing. It’ll pay off, it’ll pay off soon and then it’s all about the nighties.”

I started laughing softly then I stopped laughing softly and said quietly, “Yeah.”

“We’ll go out tonight, celebrate.”

Well. There you go. This decision was seeming like the right one already.

“Sounds good.”

“Not Lincoln’s Road House meatloaf sandwiches celebrating. You in sexy heels and a short skirt celebrating,” he clarified and I blinked at the dash because I’d never had sexy heels and short skirt fun with Brock. I’d had beer and pool table and plethora of neon signs on the walls fun with Brock plenty of times but never heels and short skirts.

Then I asked, “Really?”

To which he answered, “Absolutely.”

“Okay,” I whispered.

“I’ll make a reservation and call you with the time.”

“Okay,” I repeated.

“Later, sweetness.”

“Later, honey.”

We disconnected and I tucked my phone into my purse, thinking about which heels I was going to wear with which short skirt, doing an about face on my earlier thoughts and congratulating myself on taking good advice from Brock because, since Martha started on Monday, already my time had been freed up. No schedules to do. No inventory to keep. No phone calls to pick up. And she helped out in front of the bakery too so I didn’t have to rush up there when things got busy.

This meant I could leave early and concentrate on getting dolled up.

I was grinning to myself because I knew exactly what I was going to wear, a dress and high-heeled strappy sandals I’d owned for over a year and had never worn. Martha talked me into buying them and I’d let her for reasons unknown because they were extremely sexy and thus something (at the time) I had no use for.

Now I had a use for them.

I walked through the front door smiling. Then I aimed my smile at Suni and Toby behind the counter, they smiled back through the pack of people and Toby called, “Tess, a gentleman’s here for you. He’s waiting over there.”

Toby tipped his chin toward the tables, my head turned that way and my smile froze on my face.

This was because Dade McManus was sitting at a table by the window, cleaned plate on the table in front of him, fingers through the handle of a coffee mug also in front of him, and lastly, big manila envelope and folder also in front of him.

I tried to warm up my smile because he was a nice man.

I feared I failed because, even though he was a nice man, I wasn’t fired up as to why he might be there.

Still, I approached him smiling.

“Dade,” I greeted and, like the gentleman he was, he stood and bent to touch his lips to my cheek.

Then he leaned back, caught my eyes and murmured, “Tess.”

“This is a pleasant surprise,” I lied.

His head tipped slightly to the side and his smile was small and solemn when he called me on it with a gentle, “I wish that were true, my dear.”

I pulled in breath.

He gestured to the chair opposite his, asking, “Please, can you sit with me for awhile?”

I nodded and he waited until I was seated before he sat.

I looked at his plate and with years of experience my eyes moved from it to him and I asked, “Devil’s food with dark chocolate buttercream?”

His brows went up in surprise and he answered, “Why, yes.”

“Practice,” I explained.

He nodded then stated, “It was delicious,” I smiled my gratitude for the compliment then he queried, “Would you like me to buy you a cake and coffee?”

“Honey,” I said quietly, leaning in a little, “I own the joint. I don’t have to pay for the goods.”

“Every penny counts, Tess, and it would be my pleasure.”

I sat back thinking, God, Olivia was so totally dumb. First, she had Brock and killed that dead. Then she had Dade and did the same.

Complete idiot.

“That’s very nice but I’m good,” I told him and he nodded again.

Then he announced, “Although the subject matter I’ve come to discuss is unpleasant, my reason for coming to discuss it with you is not. I see you’re uncertain about our chat but I wish you to know that, before I leave, you’ll be happy I came.” He paused before he finished,

“I hope.”

“So you’re saying I shouldn’t play poker,” I joked and he smiled.

“Definitely not.”

“Okay then, sock it to me,” I invited.

He sat back and rested a hand on the manila ensconced mystery items beside his plate. I looked down at them then up at him when he started talking.

“I’ve been in contact with my attorneys. They’re poised to file divorce papers and will be doing this next week. Once they’re filed, I’ll be giving Olivia two weeks to find alternate accommodation.”

Oh man. Time had run out. And although Brock’s lawyer was pushing Olivia as well as doing what he could do at the courthouse to get something done, and soon, about custody, as they do, the wheels were grinding slowly. Brock’s attorneys had learned that Olivia had just hired her own attorney two days ago and the first thing he did was pour cement on the proceedings. Fast-drying cement. Guardian ad litem cement. She wasn’t going to sit down and discuss it. She was going to drag it out as long as possible which figured since she was a bitch and didn’t give a shit about her kids. It also sucked just because she was a bitch and didn’t give a shit about her kids.

He continued, “I have a prenuptial agreement with Olivia. If we were to dissolve the marriage for anything other than infidelity, she would have walked away a very wealthy woman. Unfortunately, we will be dissolving the marriage due to a variety of reasons and one of those is infidelity. The clause in the prenuptial is that, if she were to be unfaithful to me, she would walk away with nothing and this, my attorneys assure me, is ironclad so this, my attorneys assure me, she will do.”

Well, good.

Kind of.

“Okay,” I said when Dade said no more.

He looked at me then he looked out the window then he looked at the manila folder and envelope under his hand then he sighed.

Then he looked back at me and said quietly, “I’ve known Joey and Rex now for nearly four years.”

My heart started beating harder.

“Yes?” I prompted.

“They’re good boys.”

“Yes,” I whispered, “they are.”

“After what happened here a few weeks ago and, I’ll say now, I’m sorry that happened to you and the boys. Although I heard it from her perspective I know what most likely happened and I’m certain it was unpleasant.”

“Unpleasant is one word you could use,” I told him, he gave me his solemn smile again and went on.

“Well, after that, she has been doing nothing but ranting about you, about Lucas, and she does not hide this from the boys.”

“I know,” I said, “they tell their Dad.”

And they did, or at least Joel did. That cell Olivia bought him was in overdrive. Brock had been fielding calls from an alternately anxious and fed up Joey since it happened.

Surprisingly, Brock was keeping cool about this but he really had no choice. Joel needed patience, understanding and a listening ear, not more intense emotion.

It was me who dealt with the sandpaper atmosphere after Brock hung up with his son. And my tactics were sometimes beer, sometimes bourbon and sometimes blowjobs.

All, luckily, worked a charm.

So far.

Dade nodded before he remarked, “I do not see good things for their immediate future.”

“You and me both,” I agreed.

“I do not want that for them.”

I held my breath and nodded.

He leaned forward and as he did, he slid the manila envelope and folder toward me. Then he leaned back, leaving it in front of me.

“My private investigator’s reports and photos,” he stated, I blinked and let out a heavy breath then sucked in a heavier one. “Copies, of course.”

“Dade,” I whispered.

“Also, I’ve made a sworn affidavit as to her behavior subsequent to our marriage, specifically her behavior around the boys and also the escalation of it once your relationship with Lucas became known to her. That’s what’s in the envelope.”

Oh my God.

“Dade,” I repeated on a whisper.

“She is not a fit mother for a variety of reasons and those documents explain them all. I’ll have my attorneys call Lucas’s attorneys to let them know, if the affidavit is not enough, I will stand as a witness should this go to trial.”

I said not a word, just stared at him.

“I believe, with what I’ve given you, there will be enough that this doesn’t see a courtroom. However, I will also be doing my utmost for Joey and Rex to try, if it does, to make this happen quickly. Joel, I can see, is learning to stand up for himself and his brother.

This is difficult to witness no matter how proud I am of him for doing it and I am proud and have found quiet moments to tell him so. But it’s difficult because Olivia is not taking kindly to it. That will likely continue and also escalate. Something must be done and I have…” he hesitated then said, “contacts. ”

When he said no more, I asked, “Contacts?”

“Friends,” he replied.

“Friends?” I was still not getting it.

“Friends, Tess, friends who wear robes and command gavels.”

Oh.

My.

God.

Dade kept speaking. “Once I leave here, I’ll be making calls.”

I felt tears fill my eyes and, yet again, I whispered, “Dade.”

“If Lucas provides this information to his attorneys and her attorneys do not see the wisdom of moving forward quickly to grant your boyfriend sole physical custody then I will see what I can do to get the ball rolling so this can be done quickly for Joey and Rex.”

I blinked away the tears in my eyes, momentarily speechless. Then that moment passed but, although no longer speechless, I still couldn’t find the right words.

“I don’t…” I shook my head and started again, “I don’t know what to say.”

“There is nothing to say, Tess. This business is distasteful for all concerned and there is no reason to drag it out for the innocents caught up in it and, as I’m sure you know, Olivia will do her best to drag it out. The others of us who genuinely care for those boys need to do what we can.” He leaned forward and said softly, “And I genuinely care for them so I’m doing what I can.”

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.”

His fingers stopped moving, his eyes closed and his forehead came to mine and when he groaned, “Tess,” I knew it came from his gut because I felt it in mine.

My fingers slid into his hair and my lips went to his cheek, I moved them across, lifting my head and, in his ear, I kept whispering.

“And the way you were looking at me, I knew in my blood you were mine.”

“You were right, sweetness,” he whispered back.

Then he kissed my neck, lifted his head again, I dropped mine and both my arms gave him a squeeze.

“Thanks for drinking champagne with me.”

“Thanks for makin’ me drink only a glass so I could move on to beer.”

I smiled at him and his eyes dropped to my mouth.

Then they came back to mine and I felt my body still at what I saw.

Then he spoke words that described the feeling I saw in his eyes.

“My Dad was a dick, I grew up fast, I lost Bree the way I did and lost all our history with her and I found Olivia and she made my life shit. Then I had a job where you wouldn’t believe the shit I saw, the shit I did and I hope to God, baby, you never get to a place you do.

But all that was worth it, all of it, since my reward is you.”

“Shut up,” I whispered, I didn’t know why, it just came out of my mouth but what he said meant so much, it filled me so full, it felt like I was going to burst.

A beautiful pain.

But he didn’t shut up.

Instead he went on, “McManus said he started with a good one and I was lucky I was ending with one and he was not fuckin’ wrong.”

Both my hands moved to either side of his face and I begged, “Please, Brock, be quiet.”

“No fuckin’ way, baby,” he whispered. “Today, I been thinkin’ a lot about McManus and he lost his good one and there is no way I’m gonna find mine and not know right to my fuckin’ bones she doesn’t understand precisely what she means to me.”

I felt the tears well then slide out the sides of my eyes as my thumbs moved over his cheeks and I told him, “Well, I’m lucky too. I had it shit for awhile and I found you.”

He shook his head then his hand captured mine, he turned his head and pressed my palm to his lips where he kissed me then his fingers curled around mine and he held my hand to his shoulder.

“It isn’t the same. You’re made of sugar, Tess, and it’s a given you’d eventually get it good because people like you, sweet to the core, they deserve it. What I’m sayin’ is I’m glad I’m the one who gets to give it to you.”

Oh God. I loved this man.

“You’re sweet too.”

He grinned.

Then he muttered, “I see, all this time, you still don’t know me.”

I didn’t grin. My hand tensed on his face as the other one clenched in his.

“You’re a manly, macho, rough, wild, hot guy kind of sweet but you’re sweet. I’m a mountainous swirl of frosting with a moist, rich cake as my core but you’re smooth, delicious dark chocolate that tastes good from the second it hits your tongue and makes you want more the minute it melts away.”

His grin got bigger. “Shit, Tess, you’re makin’ me hard again.”

I took my hand from his face and slapped his shoulder, snapping, “I’m being serious.”

His grin faded clean away and his mercury eyes locked with mine.

Then he whispered, “I know.”

I stared in his eyes and what Vance said hit me as truth so pure and undiluted, it felt like I was touched by a rainbow.

Vance thought he was the lucky one that he had his wife and one of the reasons he thought that was because he knew she felt like she was the lucky one.

And I was lucky and so was Brock.

“We should go to Vegas,” I announced. “We’re on a streak.”

His brows drew together. “Babe, not sure you’re payin’ attention but, shit that’s flyin’

around us does not say ‘winning streak’.”

“I’ve got a naked hot guy bad boy on top of me that proves you wrong.”

At that, his brows relaxed and he smiled.

Then I informed him, “You and your boys’ birthdays are next week and I’m telling you now I’m giving you and the boys an all-inclusive, five-star beach getaway for Spring Break for all your birthdays and I’m not taking any lip and I don’t care the shit that’s swirling, we’re going no matter what.”

His smile didn’t die when he said, “We’ll talk about it later.”

“We won’t. I’m doing this.”

That’s when his smile faded. “Babe, you’re not payin’ for me and my boys to go on vacation.”

“Honey, I need a vacation, you need a vacation and the boys freaking need a vacation. So much, it’s got to be a really, really good one. And I don’t bust my hump baking cakes not to live the good life and give it to those I love. So I’m going to give it to those I love.”

“You got a bakery to launch.”

“I got a vacation to take.”

He held my eyes and I held his right back.

Then he decreed, “I’ll buy the plane tickets.”

“Brock –” I started to protest but he talked over me.

“Tess, I’ll… buy… the plane tickets.”

He was being firm in that way of his I knew he was taking charge of his woman so that firm was unyielding.

“Oh, all right,” I gave in and he grinned again.

Then his head dipped so his mouth was at my ear, “Now, let’s go back to me bein’ like chocolate that melts in your mouth.”

“That isn’t exactly what I meant,” I told him, his arms went around me and he rolled to his back, taking me with him.

Then his hand sifted into my hair, fisted gently and my head came up.

“I would hope not, darlin’, seein’ as every time you take me in your mouth, the last thing I do is melt.”

Hmm.

This was very true.

“This is true.”

And, again, he grinned.

And, it must be said, I liked it when my man grinned.

Then he brought my mouth down to his. Then he kissed me hard and I kissed him harder.

Then I took my time kissing other parts of him.

And when I did, those parts did not melt.