Chapter 7
The distant rumble of thunder drew Jules’s attention. Nikki was still out on her run. Hopefully, she’d get back before the rain started again. If not, then her cousin would get drenched. Oh, well. Nikki didn’t seem worried about it, so Jules wasn’t going to waste any energy fretting. Nikki had taken the mace and knew how to protect herself should the situation warrant.
She glanced at Dad, who was sitting across from her. Dad, a master negotiator, often used the art of silence as a tactic to get people to cave. Well, it wasn’t gonna work this time. She sat waiting for him to speak.
Several minutes later, the silence was getting to her. Maybe Dad’s tactic was working. “Spill it,” she ordered.
His expression remained impassive, his ankle slung casually over his knee like he was relaxing at a dinner party rather than bracing for battle. Of course he looked relaxed—he always did. The man could hold a poker face even in the middle of a hurricane.
“What were you thinking?” she snapped. “How could you buy Brock a house?”
“I didn’t buy Brock a house,” he said patiently. “I bought it as an investment. Brock’s just going to live there while he does this assignment.”
So that’s what she was to him … an assignment? Why was she not surprised?
“Honey, I’m just looking out for you. You’ve got to know—that’s all I’m doing. Everything I do is for you and Zoe. The two of you mean the world to me.”
Jules was grateful that Dad cared so much for her and Zoe. Still, he was crossing the line between duly concerned and overstepping.
When she called him earlier, she'd hurled out her words in disjointed phrases.
In a calm, collected tone, he informed her that this was a conversation best had in person. Fine. She preferred it that way. At least now, she could look him straight in the eyes while giving him a piece of her mind.
“How could you?” she hissed. “How could you meddle in my life like this?”
He held up a hand, voice calm and measured. “Honey, just hear me out.”
“I—”
“Let me explain,” he cut in.
Grunting, she clamped her arms over her chest, giving him a scorching look hot enough to burn through metal. “Fine. But you’ve got two minutes before I unleash.”
He leaned forward slightly, exhaling slowly like he was gathering his thoughts. “Let’s look at this analytically.”
“Seriously?” A cackle scratched her throat. “You really want to go with ‘analytically’ right now? Okay, fine. You want analytics? Let’s break this down. You brought back the guy who dumped me on my sister’s wedding day.”
“Hold it,” he said, raising both hands. “I had a long talk with Brock, and he regrets everything that happened.”
Her eyes widened in disbelief. “Are you kidding me right now?” She heard the shrill edge in her voice. It was a dead giveaway that she was on the verge of losing. “You’re siding with him?”
“I’m not siding with anyone, sweetheart. I’m only trying to get you to see the full picture.”
“Oh, I see the full picture,” she fumed. “It’s crystal clear. I was devastated by how
everything went down with Brock. That’s why I left the wedding reception and made up an excuse to go home. If I hadn’t left early, then maybe I wouldn’t have had the car accident.”
He frowned. “Surely you’re not blaming Brock for that.”
“I’m not blaming him,” she snapped and then paused. “Okay—maybe I do blame him a little, but that’s beside the point. My feelings about Brock are my own business.” She eyed Dad, daring him to disagree.
“You’re entitled to your feelings,” he acknowledged in the tone of a mediator, “but you might change your mind when you hear the rest of the story.”
She flinched. The rest of the story? Despite herself, curiosity kindled in her breast. It was all she could do to keep her voice neutral. “Okay, let’s hear it.”
“Adrian told Brock that Trevor was bullying kids at school. He panicked. Brock was picked on in school and couldn’t stand the thought of his son turning into a monster. In the heat of the moment, he made the decision to go back to Adrian so that he could be there for Trevor on a daily basis.”
She shook her head, lips curled in bitter disbelief. What a crock! Why couldn’t Brock just man up and admit that he wanted out of the relationship? Why was he using his seven-year-old son as an excuse? Pathetic.
“But then Brock did some digging and learned that Adrian was lying,” Dad continued. “Trevor wasn’t the bully. Rather, he was the one getting bullied and retaliated. Brock called the school principal, who confirmed the situation. And that’s when he realized he made a mistake by letting you go. A big one.”
What was she supposed to say to that? She was speechless.
“Now he wants to make things right.”
“Oh, so now he’s had a change of heart?” she spat. “Just like that? What happens the next time Trevor stubs his toe? Will Brock go running back to Adrian again?” Hurt sliced her insides. She thought that she’d found the one. The joke was on her.
“People make mistakes. You need to give him another chance.”
“Not gonna happen,” she growled, her chest heaving up and down.
“Sweetheart, that man is crazy about you. And you’re crazy about him. Don’t let your pride get in the way of something wonderful.”
Tears bubbled in her eyes. She blinked to try to stay them, but they escaped through the corners and trickled down her cheeks. Hastily, she swiped them away. “What makes you so sure that Brock’s the one for me?”
He tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. “Call it intuition. There are just some things that I know. Like when to act on an investment opportunity.”
“I’m your daughter, not an investment,” she barked.
He threw her a superior look. “I knew that Zoe and Junior were meant to be together.”
She waved a hand. “Easy peasy. The two of them had been secretly in love with one another for years. This is different.” She touched her chest. “Do you really want your daughter to end up with a man who’s wishy-washy?” Her voice hardened. “One who’s going to tuck his tail and run at the first sign of trouble? One who has enough baggage to fill up an entire room of my house?”
“I don’t see Brock that way at all. I see a strong, determined man who was trying to do what was best for his son. Is he perfect? No.” He looked her in the eye. “But I do know one thing—he loves you.”
“Yeah, well, maybe love is not enough. Not this time.”
Several beats of silence stretched between them.
She wasn’t going to sit here and argue with Dad. “Look, I’ve got enough to deal with as it is. Having Brock here is too much.” She gritted her teeth. “You need to make him leave.”
Dad’s voice turned grave. “Honey, you and I both know how serious this situation is with Steve Randall. We can’t leave anything to chance. I have to do everything in my power to protect you.” He searched her face. “Do you really want to leave yourself open for that maniac to try something again?”
Chill bumps prickled over her arms. No. She didn’t.
She’d been having nightmares—distorted, shadowy images she couldn’t quite make sense of. Things she should remember but couldn’t. Maybe it was about the accident. Maybe it was something deeper. All she knew was that she’d wake up drenched in sweat, heart pounding. One night, Nikki had come rushing into the bedroom to calm her down.
Jules couldn’t fathom the thought of Steve Randall targeting her again. Next time, he might kill her. Shudders ran through her, and she felt vulnerable and powerless. She took in a breath, willing herself to get a grip.
“Brock’s the one who saved you, Zoe, and Junior that night when Nico Ventura’s goon broke into the condo. If it hadn’t been for him—” He broke off, shaking his head. “He’s the best, honey. You need him.”
She looked away, swallowing hard. Brock was extremely good at his job. Even Fitz and Charli—seasoned agents who could have their pick of almost anyone—had wanted to recruit him.
How well she remembered that fateful conversation. The one that imploded her world.
Dad was watching her with the patience of Job as if he knew that she’d eventually come around to his way of thinking. “Fine,” she muttered. “I’ll go along with this, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
“Good,” Dad said briskly, clapping his hands together. “It’s settled. Now I just need for you to be civil.”
She blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Civil,” he repeated, checking his watch. “Because Brock should be here in—” he squinted “—five or six minutes.”
Her mouth fell open. “What? Five or six minutes?” She touched her hair in horror. “How could you not warn me?”
He smirked. “Don’t care a whit about getting him back, do you, sweetheart?”
“This isn’t about getting Brock back,” she growled, reaching for her crutches. “This is about making him regret what he lost.”
Dad chuckled. “I hear ya. Don’t get your drawers in a wad.”
She shot him a blistering look. “You’re not as funny as you think you are.”
“Of course I am,” he grinned, pulling out his phone. “That’s why you, your mom, and Zoe love me.” He winked. “I’ll stall him so you can get yourself dolled up. Let’s make him really regret losing you.”
Dad could joke around all he wanted, but it wasn’t funny. Not in the slightest. “Oh, don’t worry,” she raged. “He will. Big time.”
Jules clasped her hands tightly in her lap and tried to keep her expression stone-faced as Brock strode into the room. She might be able to control her features, but she couldn’t keep her heart from pounding wildly in her chest.
Always the host, Dad stood and crossed the room in quick steps, gripping Brock’s hand in a firm shake and patting him heartily on the back. “Thanks for coming over, son. I appreciate you dropping everything to come to Fort Worth.”
Brock nodded. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
His gaze shifted to Jules. The depth of emotion in his dark eyes caused a lump to form in her throat. Quickly, she swallowed it down. She had to be strong. He’d hurt her, and she needed to show him she no longer cared—not about him, not about the past. He was here because Dad hired him. Because protecting people came easier to Brock than risking his heart.
“How’re you doing?” he asked.
“Still on this side of the dirt.”
His eyes widened in surprise, and then he chuckled. “I guess that’s one way of putting it.” He frowned. “You’re on crutches.”
“Yeah, I have a hairline fracture in my pelvis. I’m supposed to avoid putting too much weight on it. I’ll be on crutches for a few more days.”
“I’m just glad you’re okay.”
“Me too.” At least the abrasions on her cheeks were almost gone. She’d looked pretty rough initially.
He looked like he wanted to come closer, maybe even give her a hug, but something in her expression must’ve stopped him. Instead, he took the chair across from her, beside where Dad had just sat down again.
“Thanks again for coming.” Dad switched into business mode. “It’ll be good to have you across the street so you can keep an eye on Jules.” His normally ruddy expression turned crimson as his jaw hardened, causing his jowls to jiggle slightly. “We need to make sure that lunatic doesn’t get another shot at hurting her.”
“We don’t even know for sure that Steve was behind the hit and run,” Jules pointed out.
Dad held up a hand. “No, we don’t. But like I told you earlier, I’m not taking any chances.” He turned to Brock. “Which is why I hired the best of the best.”
“I’ll do everything I can to protect her,” Brock said solemnly.
“Good,” Dad nodded. He sat back, stroking his chin. “I have to say, your boss, Sutton Smith, is certainly an impressive fellow.”
“He is,” Brock agreed.
Jules cut into the conversation. “When did you talk to Brock’s boss?” She didn’t appreciate Dad and Brock leaving her out of the loop.
“A few days ago,” Dad answered. “I wanted to get a feel for the chain of command so that I’ll know how Brock operates.” He looked at Brock. “It’s nice to know that you have such a stellar team behind you.”
Dad was notorious for covering all of the bases. Jules shouldn’t have been surprised that he would contact Sutton Smith, but she was.
“Here’s how this will go.” Dad’s voice was laced with the authority of one accustomed to being in charge. “It’ll be a whole lot easier for you to protect Jules if you pose as her boyfriend.”
A startled laugh escaped her lips. “Seriously? You’re trying that again?”
“It worked for Zoe and Junior,” Dad fired back.
Her words came out in hard bursts. “But it’s not going to work this time.” She tossed daggers at Brock with her eyes as she spoke. “This situation is vastly different.”
“Just listen.” Dad homed in on Jules. “The best way for Brock to stay close and ask relevant questions is to pose as your boyfriend. Otherwise, people will wonder why he’s always hanging around.”
The knowledge that Brock was going to be hanging around twisted something inside her. Was it anticipation? Dread? She wasn’t sure.
“Sweetheart,” Dad pressed, “be reasonable about this.”
“Reasonable?” She gave him a hard look. “I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to get me and Brock back together, but it won’t work. You bribed Tippin with a collector’s guitar. Now it’s a house for Brock. Have you no shame?”
“I did not buy Brock a house,” Dad said incredulously. “Nor do I plan to.”
“And I wouldn’t accept something like that,” Brock asserted.
Jules had to admit that his forthrightness was impressive.
“I’m here because I want to help.” Brock looked at Jules. “Surely you know me well enough to realize that I can’t sit back and do nothing while you’re in danger.”
Awareness pulsed through her with the force of electricity. Brock was a man of action. The type that dove into the fray and sorted out the backlash later. It irked Jules that she was still so affected by him. It would be so easy to let down her guard and get swept away in the depths of his dark eyes, but she couldn’t. She had to hold her ground. He’d hurt her, and she couldn’t just bounce back from that and act like everything was hunky-dory. She locked gazes with Brock. “You were hired to protect me.”
“I was,” he answered carefully, measuring his words like he knew they would be used against him.
She immediately went in for the kill. “This is nothing more than a job to you.”
Brock frowned. “I wouldn’t put it that way.”
She leaned forward, refusing to let him off the hook. “But you are getting paid.”
“Hold it,” Dad broke in. He threw a glance at Brock before turning his full attention to Jules.
Uh oh. The fire flickering in Dad’s eyes let her know that he was about to set her straight. In the old days, whatever he said would be followed up by her getting grounded and sent to her room. Luckily, she was too old for Dad to play that card.
“When Tippin called Brock and told him the news about your accident, Brock’s immediate reaction was to rush out here so he could do everything in his power to protect you.”
Surprise trickled through her. Even though her first instinct was to look at Brock to get his reaction to this, she kept her eyes fixed on Dad, trying to keep her expression neutral.
“I’m the one who insisted that Brock run this through Sutton Smith’s agency. With Tippin and Zoe scheduled to be in Ireland for several more weeks—knowing that Tippin would be out of pocket—well, I wanted to make sure that Brock has every resource at his disposal. I would’ve hired Fitz’s agency, but since Brock works for Sutton Smith, I thought it best to go through the proper channel.” He spread his hands. “So here we are.”
This time, she did look at Brock. “I stand corrected,” she said tersely.
A hint of amusement passed over his rugged features.
She reacted to the change in his demeanor like a bull charging for the red flag. “What?” she demanded.
Brock motioned. “Well, technically, you’re sitting.”
She scrunched her face. “What?”
“You said you stood corrected, but you’re actually sitting.”
“Whatever,” she mumbled.
“Sweetheart, I know you’re frustrated with Brock right now, but let’s not forget the large debt of gratitude that we owe him.” He turned to Brock, his voice breathy with emotion. “I appreciate you stepping up to the plate to help in this situation. And I thank you for what you did that night in West Hollywood.” His voice cracked. “It’s because of you that I still have my daughters.”
How long was Dad going to keep harping on that same note? “I’m grateful for what Brock did, but it doesn’t change the fact that he and I are not together. Nor will we ever be.” It was immensely satisfying to get that out in the open.
She caught the raw hurt on Brock’s face, but he didn’t say anything. Good, she was glad she wasn’t the only one hurting. “Dad, now’s not the time to play matchmaker. Brock is not going to pose as my boyfriend.”
They stared each other down for several tense moments before Dad finally acquiesced. “Okay, we’ll need a different cover story.” He turned to Brock. “What do you think?”
Brock pursed his lips. “I could pose as her cousin.”
Dad’s face lit up. “Cousin—great idea!”
Jules grimaced. “Seriously? My cousin?”
Amusement zinged through Brock’s eyes. “Well, if not boyfriend, then what do you suggest?”
She huffed. “Fine. Cousin it is.”
“Great,” Dad said. “Now we need a way to get Brock inside the surgical center so he can start questioning your coworkers. You can’t be the only one that Steve’s targeting. Has anyone else mentioned having any run-ins with him?”
Jules hesitated, not sure how much she wanted to divulge.
“What is it you’re not telling us?” Brock asked, reading her easily.
She narrowed her eyes. “What makes you think I’m not being forthcoming?”
“Because I know you,” he said with a hint of a grin. “You get this certain look whenever you’re holding something back.”
“I do not,” she snipped.
Dad was amused. “You do, sweetheart.”
She huffed. “Fine. Mindy—my coworker—called me the other day and said she thought she was being followed.”
Dad made a face. “And you’re just now telling me this?”
“Mindy’s paranoid,” Jules explained. “She always thinks someone’s out to get her. I can’t count the number of times she’s come to work claiming that she was being stalked by an admirer. Of course, nothing ever came of it because it didn’t actually happen.”
“Well, paranoid or not, we have to treat every threat seriously. Brock needs to start asking questions.” Dad drummed his hands on his thighs before he snapped his fingers. “I’ve got it. You’re going back to work Monday. Take Brock with you.”
“What?” Jules balked. “I’m not taking him to work with me.”
Brock’s mouth twitched. “You don’t think I can play nurse?”
“No, you don’t exactly have the best bedside manner.”
He bit his lip, fighting a laugh.
“Okay, okay.” Dad scratched his head. “Wait—I’ve got it. Jules, you were in the hospital on your birthday. So ... let’s have a birthday party.”
“A what ?” Dad was trying to help, but he was driving her crazy.
“A party. You’ll invite your coworkers. Brock will come as your cousin. It’s the perfect cover.”
“I don’t have the energy to plan a party.”
“Nikki can do it.”
Jules sighed. “I’m sure Nikki would love that.”
“Nikki?” Brock asked. “Who’s that?”
“My cousin,” Jules answered. “The real one. She’s staying with me.”
“Great,” Dad said. “It’s settled. We’ll throw a birthday party.”
A ruckus outside drew their attention.
Jules heard Nikki’s high-pitched, irate tone. And then she caught the lower timbre of a man’s voice. It sounded like the two of them were in a brawl.
The front door flew open. Nikki stormed inside, trailed by a tall, lanky man who looked equally irate.
“What kind of psycho tries to mace a guy for asking directions?” he snapped.
“You were following me,” Nikki shouted. “I sped up, you sped up … to a sprint.”
He matched her volume. “I was using you as a pacer.”
Dad bunched his brows, looking from one to the other. “What’s the meaning of this?”
Nikki pointed. “He started it,” she said savagely.
The guy smirked. “No, you started it when you tried to mace me for no reason.”
A crazed look overtook her expression. “No reason? I thought you were attacking me.”
“Um, Nikki—who’s this?” Jules asked.
Nikki flung her arm toward the man. “He claims he’s with Brock, which is the only reason why I didn’t lay him out flat.”
The guy barked out a laugh. “Lay me out flat? I’d like to see you try.” He looked at Brock. “Would you please tell Combat Barbie who I am before she tries to mace me again?”
“He’s my brother,” Brock answered.
Jules looked and then looked again. “Luke?” Now that she knew he was related to Brock, it wasn’t hard to see the resemblance. Like Brock, Luke was strikingly handsome with a lean, muscular body and chiseled features. He was a little taller than Brock and slightly thinner. His hair was darker than Brock’s and curly on top instead of straight. Brock had told her how Luke was trying to get clean from alcohol. That he stayed on a regimented exercise routine so he could get his life put back together and win back Sutton’s respect.
“You brought your brother?”
“I needed help,” Brock said. “He was available.”
“Well, maybe you should tell your brother not to stalk people,” Nikki muttered.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Luke smirked.
“You were trying to pick me up,” Nikki challenged with a smug grin.
“Maybe. But that’s before I knew what I was getting into.”
“You’re a disaster,” she growled.
“And you’re a handful. With a terrible aim.”
“Okay, okay,” Dad interrupted. “Enough.”
Luke turned to Jules with a boyish grin. “Well, well, if it isn’t the famous Jules Sterling. Nice to finally meet you in the flesh.”
“You too,” Jules responded. So Brock had talked to Luke about her. Interesting.
Luke shook his head. “I do have a bone to pick with my little bro, though. He said you were beautiful, but he certainly undersold it.”
Jules laughed in spite of herself. “Thanks … I think.” Brock had said that Luke was the charming one—always knowing just what to say. Brock had certainly nailed that description on the head.
A clap of thunder rattled the windows. Dad glanced outside before speaking to Jules. “I’d better get back home to your mama before the storm hits. I’m afraid this is gonna be bad. We might have some tornadoes.”
“Really?” Jules made a face. “I hope not.”
“Me too,” Dad said with a somber expression and then glanced out the window again. A second later, he turned his attention back to Jules. “Before I go, let’s figure out a time for your party.”
“What party?” Nikki piped in.
Jules let out a long breath. “Since I was stuck in the hospital on my actual birthday, Dad wants me to host a party so that I can invite all of my coworkers. He thinks it’ll be a great way for Brock to question everyone to see if they’ve had any run-ins with Steve Randall.”
Nikki’s eyes shimmered with excitement as she brought her hands together. “A party? I’d be all over that.”
Dad threw Jules a grin that said, I knew exactly how this would go down . “We were hoping that you’d plan it,” he added.
“Of course,” Nikki said eagerly. “When’s it gonna be?”
“How about next Friday?” Dad suggested.
“Next Friday?” Jules shook her head. “That’s too soon.” She had to go back to work on Monday, which would be a hard transition. Then Nikki signed her up for that stupid cooking class on Wednesday evening. Adding a party on Friday would be too much.
“I’d have the party tomorrow if we could,” Dad countered. “We need answers now.”
“I’ll handle everything,” Nikki assured Jules. “You won’t have to do a thing.”
“Okay,” Jules relented.
Dad looked at Brock. “Let’s plan on jumping on a call sometime tomorrow with Sutton so that we can go over the details of the plan moving forward.”
“I’ll reach out to Sutton and see if we can get on his schedule,” Brock said.
Jules looked from Dad to Brock, her expression unyielding. “From now on, I want to be included on every call.” When Dad’s mouth moved like he might protest, she added, “I’m the one whose life is at stake here, and I deserve to be kept in the loop.”
“Very well,” Dad agreed. Rising from his seat, he stepped over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Go easy on the boy,” he murmured. “He’s hurting, just like you.” Dad nodded to Luke as he passed by him and then gave Nikki a peck on the cheek, just as he’d done to Jules.
Thunder boomed, nearly jolting Jules out of her skin. She glanced towards the window and the darkening sky. Apprehension ran through her as she spoke to Dad. “Are you sure you should leave right now? It looks bad out there.”
“I’ll be fine,” Dad said easily. “I need to get home to your mama. You know how she gets in thunderstorms.”
Jules nodded. Her mother hated thunderstorms. She’d been in a tornado when she was a kid and had never gotten over the trauma. Unfortunately, tornadoes were a way of life in Texas, but it didn’t make living through the threat of them any easier.
“See y’all later,” Dad said and then went out the door.
Luke jutted his thumb. “Well, I’m gonna get a shower.”
“Good idea,” Nikki responded. “You stink, Stalker Boy.”
“You don’t exactly smell like a bed of roses, Combat Barbie.”
Brock looked at Jules, mirth sparkling in his dark eyes. “They already have nicknames for one another. Interesting.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Luke demanded with a frown.
“You’re the strategist; I’ll let you figure it out.”
“You like me.” Nikki taunted Luke with a wicked grin.
Luke rocked back. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
“See ya around, Stalker Boy,” she drawled and then sashayed out of the room.
“She’s a lot,” Luke murmured as he watched her retreating form with an eye of appreciation.
“So are you,” Brock shot back.
Luke looked thoughtful. “Hey, I resemble that remark.” He grinned at his own joke.
Jules couldn’t help but chuckle. Luke was a character. Brock had labeled him a ladies’ man. He certainly had no trouble going nose-to-nose with Nikki. Jules could tell that her cousin liked the challenge.
“See ya, beautiful,” Luke said to Jules and then brought two fingers to his temple in a jaunty salute that was meant for Brock. “I’m headed back to the house.” He threw him a cheeky grin. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“Don’t need that much latitude,” Brock rolled out in a smooth cadence.
Jules's eyes went wide, and then she let out a chortle that morphed into a snort. Gah! So embarrassing.
A lopsided grin tugged at Brock’s mouth, and the two shared a long, intense look. The distance between them shrank, and she got the sensation of time rewinding itself. For a second, all of the bad was erased, and they were as they once were—so wrapped up in their own world that they hardly knew anyone else existed.
“You know what they say … two’s company, three’s a crowd,” Luke quipped as he left through the door, leaving only Jules and Brock.