Chapter 43
Brody
He couldn’t do this.
In Brody O'Rourke's forty-odd years on earth, he’d faced his own death head-on more times than he could count. Grieved alongside his cousins as they’d dealt with a shared loss greater than most people would ever know.
He’d led good men into battle and watched them die at his feet, taken so many lives he’d either be heralded as a hero or a monster, depending on who was doing the recounting.
And still, he’d never feared anything as much as he did the cute little Craftsman-style house looming over him as he parked in the driveway.
“Maybe I should have driven. You look like you’re about to pass out.”
His menace’s cheerful voice did nothing to calm the churning of his stomach as he stabbed at the button on his dash to kill the engine. “I think you might be enjoying this a bit too much, little girl.”
A wide grin bloomed across her face. “Oh, I am enjoying this so much. It’s not every day I get to see my mobster boyfriend terrified of my sweet, doddering old father.”
“Fiancé, not boyfriend. And I’m going to tell him you called him ‘doddering’,” Brody grumbled, shooting her a glare as he unbuckled his seatbelt.
But Goldie’s smile didn’t so much as flicker. “Oh, he’ll get a kick out of that, especially with the context. I can’t wait to tell him he’s struck fear into the heart of one of the—”
Her spiel cut off with a shocked squeak when Brody wrapped a hand around the back of her neck and hauled her to him, so close their noses nearly touched. “I’m starting to think I don’t spank you enough, menace.”
Because they were nose to nose, he had the unmitigated delight of watching her pupils blow as she sucked in a breath. “You just spanked me before we left the house!”
“And clearly I didn’t do a thorough enough job if you’re still feeling this brave. Maybe I should take you upstairs and remind you who I am.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Oh, wouldn’t I?”
The truth was, he wouldn’t. At least, not at her father’s house, which likely housed multiple weapons Sergeant Quinn—no, Joe, he was supposed to be calling him Joe now, like that wasn’t fucking weird—wouldn’t hesitate to use against him.
But there was just enough doubt flickering in his babygirl’s golden eyes to tell him she wasn’t quite convinced he wouldn’t indeed drag her upstairs to her old bedroom and blister her ass without a care for who could hear them.
And that doubt sparked a fear so delicious he couldn’t resist the urge to tug her closer, to claim her lips with his own.
His menace surrendered immediately, and everything inside him crowed with triumph.
Fuck, she was intoxicating. It was so goddamn tempting to slide his hand under that pretty little sundress, up to where he knew she was bare and waiting for him because he’d taken her panties before they’d left the house.
No doubt she was already wet, which would make it so easy to—-
A loud knock on the window jolted him out of his daydream and he jerked back to find himself staring at the stern face of his fiancée's father through the passenger window of his car.
Fuck.
Swallowing hard against the sudden dryness in his throat, Brody released his hold on Goldie and reached for the handle of his car door. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her doing the same.
“Stay,” he growled, shooting her a warning look that had her glaring right back.
“I can’t open my own door in my own driveway?”
“No.”
Leaving it at that, he climbed out of the car. Either she’d obey and he’d be able to praise her for listening when she didn’t want to, or she wouldn’t and he’d have an excuse to spank her again when they got home.
It was a win-win, as far as he was concerned.
“Evening, Joe,” he called, grateful his voice didn’t waver as he rounded the car to open Goldie’s door for her.
“Evening, O’Rourke.” Something that looked like approval, albeit rather begrudging approval, flickered in the other man’s gaze as Goldie climbed out of the car.
“So formal,” Goldie said with a roll of her eyes, throwing her arms around her father’s neck and squeezing. “You’re basically family, start acting like it.”
Some of the color leached from Joe’s face which actually calmed some of Brody’s nerves. “Family,” he repeated slowly, rolling the word over his tongue as if it were foreign to him.
“Yes.” Sliding an arm around Goldie’s waist, Brody pulled her back toward him, pleased when she immediately snuggled into him. “Just need the ring.”
“I’m not drunk enough for this.” Turning on his heel, Joe stomped back inside, the storm door nearly bouncing off its hinges behind him.
Something smacked against Brody’s chest, and he looked down to find his menace staring up at him, amusement sparkling in her eyes. “That was mean.”
“You were the one who said we’re basically family. I was just clarifying what you meant.”
“Uh-huh. Sometimes I think you’re the one who needs to be spanked.”
“I dare you to try, menace.”
Pink slashed across her cheeks, but Goldie only tilted her nose in the air and followed her father into the house. Grinning now, Brody fell in step behind her, his nerves all but gone as he watched her hips sway beneath the flouncy floral dress.
The house was far more charming than he’d expected. A bit dated, and he realized with a jolt that Joe likely hadn’t changed anything since his wife’s death.
Brody knew the feeling well. His parents house had sat untouched for nearly five years, other than the weekly cleanings he’d paid for.
Even now, he had boxes of their things he hadn’t been able to part with stashed upstairs in his attic, waiting for the day he might be strong enough to actually go through them.
Maybe he had more in common with the Sergeant than either of them realized.
“Ohhh, you made my favorite!” Rushing into the cramped kitchen, Goldie lifted the lid off a pot of creamy mashed potatoes and inhaled deeply. “Ham, peas, and potatoes! The perfect meal.”
“Thought we could all use some comfort food,” Joe said with a shrug, but there was a gleam in his eye that said he was pleased as punch with his daughter’s reaction.
“It’s perfect. Need me to set the table?”
“If you don’t mind.”
Hanging back, Brody watched as the pair moved around each other in a dance they’d clearly learned long ago. And for the first time, he saw the man in front of him not as an obstacle to be overcome, but as a man who just wanted what was best for his daughter.
On that, at least, they could agree.
As dinner progressed, the similarities between them slowly began to outweigh the differences. They both preferred minor-league baseball to pretty much any other sport, which told him where Goldie had gotten her love of the game.
When it came to movies, it turned out he and Joe shared a love of old westerns as well as a love of teasing Goldie about the bad shark movies she adored.
Music, tv shows, books—though neither of them apparently took the time to read as much as they’d like these days.
There were a few good-natured disagreements here and there, but overall it was fun getting to know the man who would someday be his father-in-law without the threat of an arrest or literal death hanging over their heads.
Night had long since fallen by the time he caught Goldie yawning for the fifth time in as many minutes. “All right, menace. We need to get you to bed.”
“No, no, you guys are talking.” Curling up on her side, she pillowed her head on her hands. “I’ll just close my eyes for a bit.”
“We’ll have plenty of time to chat later, babygirl. You need sleep.”
But when he rose to scoop her off the couch, Joe rose with him and cleared his throat, looking more uncomfortable than he had the first time they’d met. “Actually, Brody, could I talk to you in the kitchen for a minute?”
“Go on.” Goldie waved him away without opening her eyes. “I’ll be right here. Resting my eyes.”
Resigning himself to the fact he’d be carrying her out to the car after she knocked out on the couch, Brody followed Joe into the kitchen. “I really need to get her home. It’s been a long couple of days.”
“So I’ve been told.” Arms crossed, Joe leaned back against the counter and pinned Brody with an unnervingly pointed gaze. “Heard a couple Russians went missing. You have anything to do with that?”
“Nope.” It was, in the most technical sense, the truth. While he had everything to do with their deaths, the twins were solely responsible for their disappearances. “And you wouldn’t want me to answer that question even if I had.”
Blowing out a breath, Joe nodded. “I suppose you’re right. This… This isn’t the life I would have chosen for her, if I’d had any say in it.”
“Again, we agree.”
“But I also know how stubborn she can be when she wants something. And it seems that what she wants is you.”
“The feeling is mutual. I love your daughter, Sergeant Quinn. And I know a life with me has its… concerns, but I promise you I will do everything in my power to keep her safe.”
“I believe you. Which is why I want you to have this.” Pushing away from the counter, Joe turned and pulled open a drawer. From the mess of contents inside it—Brody could see where his menace got her chaos from in that single glimpse—he plucked an old ring box covered in a faded red velvet.
“It was her mother’s,” Joe explained, his voice thick with a grief Brody knew would never fully fade.
“I had a feeling… Seeing you two together at the store the other day, there was something different about my Goldie. Something that reminded me of her mother when we were just two scared kids prepared to jump into the deep end of life feet first. And I knew then and there you were it for her.”
Emotion lodged itself in Brody’s throat as he flipped open the lid and stared down at a stunning wedding set. A large ruby sat in the middle of a circle of diamonds, nestled on a thin gold band.
It was simple, a bit old fashioned.
And perfect for his Goldie.
“Thank you.” Fuck, he was not going to cry. “This means the world to me. And I know it will mean everything to her.”
“Promise me you’ll do it right. When you ask her. She… she deserves that. She deserves the kind of romance she writes about in her books.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”