Wild Man

Chapter Fifteen Unexpected Company

One month later…

It was Saturday and Brock had just gone out for a run, his weekend with his boys having been interrupted by them being invited to a party and they were currently there. He was set to return, shower then take off and get them and I wasn’t going to see him again until Sunday night as he intended to have “a talk” with them (in quotes because it was going to be heavy) about all that was going down.

While he was gone, I was putzing around in my kitchen.

It was my first full day off since two weeks before Christmas because Tessa’s Cakes had been a madhouse and it was all hands on deck.

The good news about this was, I could afford more nighties.

The other good news about this was, when I pulled myself out of bed every day and then dragged my ass home every night arriving late, exhausted, only to face Christmas crap (cards, wrapping presents I ducked out from work to buy or ran around the malls to get on the way home – we’ll just say my Christmas spirit took a hit), Brock didn’t like it much and told his mother about it. So of course she told her daughters about it. Then I got a visit at the bakery from Jill with Kalie and Kellie in tow and both girls were looking for jobs (Kalie, to buy Christmas presents and also to aid her goals in helping to save the world as well as for college, Kellie to buy Christmas presents and then continue to work her way to top fashionista of the sophomore class) and they wanted to work at Tessa’s Cakes.

I hired them on the spot.

They were still on the payroll working some evenings and weekends and, although business had slowed, it was not by much. They were godsends considering they were punctual, understood customer service, were hard workers, didn’t like to be bored and they were hilarious. Kellie was even learning how to decorate cakes.

In other words, they were two of the reasons I could finally have a day off.

The bad news about this was, I was overworked, exhausted and my Christmas spirit had been drained out of me. Not to mention, I didn’t have it in me to stay on the ball with all that was happening around me. Therefore I pretty much didn’t know what was happening around me because Brock locked himself straight into protective mode and told me not to worry about that shit, instead focus on the bakery and Christmas.

And I probably shouldn’t have taken him up on that but I did.

It wasn’t really true that I had no days off. I had Christmas off and New Years. But neither of these were days off, as such, considering the activity levels. Firstly, Mom was taking a long visit, enjoying an Australian summer with my sister, there Thanksgiving through the New Year so I had to be up at an ungodly hour to get their Skype. Then Brock only got the boys for half a day on both days and half that time needed to be spent having Christmas lunch/New Year’s dinner at his mother’s house, the other half at his pad and then they had to get back home so we were running around most of the day and I was doing my damnedest to make them good days for the boys because Olivia was still filling their head with garbage about me. They were visibly confused, worried about the state of affairs, worried about their Dad and struggling with loyalty to their Mom in how they dealt with me.

So, suffice it to say, even protected from that shit by Brock, it still leaked in and I had also descended from really not liking Olivia to pretty much hating her.

Brock had had two dinners with Olivia since the first drama (yes, two, the bitch). This did not fill me with joy but luckily I was too exhausted to build up any emotion about it because that emotion would probably not have been pleasant and Brock came home from both dinners looking like he wanted to rip someone’s head off so I needed to look after my man.

In other words, just like Elvira warned, Olivia was playing every game in the book, not listening to a word Brock said and that situation had not gone away.

Though, that said, after dinner number two, Brock came home not only looking like he wanted to rip someone’s head off but also declaring, “That’s it, done with that shit,” which I suspected meant dinner number three would happen when hell froze over. And this was also part of the reason for “the talk” with his boys this weekend.

I had no clue what Damian was doing and Brock didn’t fill me in. I figured my man was honest enough with me that he would tell me if there was something I needed to know so I kept my head down and did what he told me to do, focused on what I needed to be doing and that was not lapsing into a coma.

So right then, due to pure habit, I was in my kitchen thinking for the first time in my life if I saw a cake I’d scream my head off.

And thus I was also realizing that I hadn’t had a vacation in over a year and I was wondering, since Brock hadn’t been in his job too long, if he could get a week off and we could go to a beach somewhere.

And when my mind skidded into this thought, it moved onto other thoughts of beaches, water, tropical drinks that tasted like liquid candy and the fact that local fashion dictates would mean for the vast majority of time Brock would be in nothing but swim trunks.

And this was what was pleasantly occupying my mind when a knock came at the door.

My pleasant thoughts evaporated, I looked at the door and my first instinct was to run downstairs and hide in the guest room.

Another knock came and I heard Martha shout, “Tess! I know you’re in there because I can see your car and his new fancy-ass truck! Open up!”

Oh man.

Martha was on a tear.

I sucked in breath reconsidering the guest room and instead considering escaping out the back.

Then, because it was Martha, I walked to the door.

I opened it to see Martha plus Elvira as well as another black woman with tawny eyes and an enormous afro that had to have its own zip code and they were all accompanied by a woman who, at first glance I would have sworn was Dolly Parton. After blinking, I saw she was younger but she still had the masses of fabulous platinum hair, enormous bosoms and she was wearing skintight stonewash (yes, stonewash) from shoulders to toes (including platform boots made of stonewash). The entirety of this was adorned with what looked like a layer of glitter not to mention a heavy array of rhinestones decorating the shoulders and down the front of her jeans jacket.

Whoa.

“You exist,” Martha snapped and my eyes moved from Dolly to her.

“Hey,” I said softly.

Suffice it to say, with my life as crazy as it was, I didn’t have time for Martha except for some random texts and quick phone calls.

And suffice it to say, Martha wasn’t down with that.

She pushed in and her posse pushed in with her, Elvira giving me a wide-eyed look that spoke volumes and those volumes were that I needed to brace because Martha was on a tear.

She didn’t have to warn me. I’d known Martha a long time. I knew before I even opened the door.

Damn.

I closed the door behind them, turned and trailed them as Martha made a bee-line to my kitchen, introducing, “This is Shirleen and Daisy, they’re friends of Elvira and Gwen’s.

Gwen met Shirleen during her thingamabob and with Shirleen came Daisy and with Gwen came Elvira and with Elvira comes me and now we’re all here.”

I looked to Shirleen and Daisy and greeted, “Hi guys.”

Daisy gave me a bright smile and I knew she was Daisy because she said, “Hey, I’m Daisy.”

“You’re Tessa of Tessa’s Cakes,” Shirleen (the black lady) announced like I didn’t have that information.

“Yes,” I confirmed.

“I been to your place, like, a lot. Too much. It’s important for a black woman to have booty, but not a Tessa’s Cakes booty. You owe me at least ten pounds, you get what I’m sayin’?” she stated.

“Uh… yeah,” I replied because I did but even if I didn’t, she was kind of scary of the Elvira variety so I still would have agreed.

“Only two things better in the whole world than your frosted sugar cookies with daisy sprinkles and those are pigs in a blanket and a man with a fine package. This I know as fact,”

she declared, I blinked at this unusual compliment, Daisy emitted a little giggle that sounded like bells, Elvira grinned big at me but Martha shouted.

“What the frig? ”

We all turned to her to see her glaring at the empty, ornate, milky green glass cake stand at the edge of my counter (I’d rotated).

“What?” I asked.

Her eyes cut to me and she jabbed a finger at the cake plate. “What’s that?”

I looked to the cake plate then I looked to her.

Then I answered, “That’s my fabulous, ornate, green glass cake plate.”

“It sure is fabulous,” Daisy agreed, eyeing my cake plate. “I need to get me one of those.”

But Martha’s eyes narrowed, as in went squinty, I knew what that meant so instead of thanking Daisy, I kept my focus on Martha.

“It’s empty,” she pointed out.

I looked at the cake plate then at her.

“Yeah,” I agreed unnecessarily.

She glared at me.

What on earth?

“Martha –” I started.

She cut me off to say, “We’re going shopping and, after, we’re hitting Club. We dropped by to see if you wanna go.”

No way in hell. Not that I didn’t want to spend time with her but I was shopped out.

Buying presents for Brock, his boys, his family and my personal list had beat even me, a seasoned shopper dedicated to remaining as such. I had vowed to myself (and shared with Brock, who not only approved, he also laughed his ass off when I shared it), that I had sworn off malls until March.

Therefore, I had to find a kickass nightie for his Valentine’s present online (for I might have sworn off malls but I figured online shopping didn’t count).

“I’ve sworn off malls,” I announced, saw Martha’s eyes get big and heard Elvira and Daisy suck in shocked breaths. “Christmas did me in. The bakery was crazed and having to buy presents for Brock, his boys, his family, you, all my employees, Mom, my sis and –”

“I know your network has expanded, Tess, I know, ” Martha cut me off to say.

Oh man.

There it was.

“Martha –”

“I also know my Tess never but never has an empty cake stand at her house. And my Tess could shop until she dropped as evidenced by you getting up with me at five o’clock in the morning when that travelling, discount designer shoe emporium opened up their tent at the flea market and we stood in line for four hours to get in and we tried on every single pair of shoes in our size even if we didn’t like them just in case they looked hot on when they didn’t in the box. And my Tess could get busy at the bakery but she’d pry herself away to meet for a quick lunch or pop by for a glass of wine or be home occasionally so I could pop by her place.”

“I went to that emporium,” Daisy whispered to Shirleen. “Found me three pairs of boots.

Three. It was hot.”

“Mm hmm,” Shirleen muttered back, not tearing her eyes off the action.

I said to my friend, “Martha, honey –”

She threw up her hands. “But oh no, not you. Not the new Tess. Brock’s Tess. Brock’s Tess barely has time to return a text because she’s busy with him, his boys, his family, staying over at his house, having his fancy-ass new truck in front of hers –”

I interrupted to ask, “Are you still stalking me?”

“Am I Martha Shockley, your best friend since fifth grade?” she asked back.

“Martha, things have been busy,” I snapped.

“Yeah, busy with you gettin’ a little somethin’ somethin’ from a bad boy,” she leaned in,

“liberally. You don’t have time for me but you have time to haul your kick-boxing ass to his house on average three days a week seeing as your car isn’t here or the bakery.”

Jeez, she’d totally been stalking me.

“Oo, lawdy,” Elvira muttered.

“You got that right, sugar,” Daisy matched her mutter.

I glared at Martha.

“I’m in a new relationship,” I reminded her. “It’s always intense when it’s new.”

“You’re in over your head is what you are,” Martha shot back and my torso jerked back.

“Oo, lawdy,” Elvira repeated.

“You got that right, sugar,” Daisy whispered.

“You don’t know what I’m in,” I said softly to Martha.

“No, you’re right, I don’t,” Martha agreed. “Because I never see you or talk to you.” She shook her head and crossed her arms on her chest, saying, “I never thought you, you, Tessa O’Hara, my best friend since I could remember would toss me aside for a guy, I don’t care how hot he is.”

“Depends on what he’s packin’,” Shirleen whispered to Daisy and Daisy audibly stifled another giggle.

I kept my gaze on Martha.

Then I announced, “I’m in love with him.”

At that, her torso jerked back and she added her eyes getting big. The rest of the women shuffled their feet but kept silent.

I kept talking.

“I’ve shared this with him and Brock has shared he feels the same about me.”

“Oh God,” Martha whispered, sounding slightly horrified.

“I’m happy,” I told her. “Happier than I’ve ever been in my life which makes it suck that his wife is playing games and using her sons as pawns to do it, filling their heads with crap about Brock being with me meaning they can’t ever have a family again and making plays to get Brock back when he hates her only slightly more than I do.”

“Oh God,” Martha whispered, sounding definitely horrified.

I nodded. “She’s a piece of work and a pain in the ass and the kids are totally confused because they like me but she’s pretty much telling them they can’t because if they do, that means they don’t love her.”

“Oh God,” Martha repeated on a whisper, staring at me.

“And, if that wasn’t enough, Brock’s Dad has cancer and might be dying from it. There’s history there that’s unpleasant and his possible future demise is stirring up stuff that has long since been buried and Brock’s dealing with his own emotions with all that as well as his Mom’s, his sisters’ and his brother’s.”

“Oh Tess, I didn’t know.” Martha was still whispering.

“I did,” Elvira mumbled to Daisy and Shirleen. “I had Thanksgiving with them and we’ll just say his people are not The Waltons ‘cause, far’s I know, The Waltons never dropped the f-bomb repeatedly.”

I ignored Elvira’s commentary and replied to Martha.

“No, you’re right, you didn’t because I haven’t had time to tell you because all that’s happening on top of the bakery being busy and if that wasn’t enough, when Brock came back into my life, Damian came over for reasons only Damian understands.”

Martha’s torso shot back again but this time her eyes got wide and she sucked in a breath.

“That’s her ex, he’s cornered the market on asshole,” Elvira explained on a mutter to Shirleen and Daisy.

“Lotsa those,” Shirleen muttered back.

“No, sister, I mean he’s cornered the market on asshole, ” Elvira stated firmly and Daisy and Shirleen stared at her with dawning understanding then they looked at me.

“Why did he come over?” Martha asked softly.

“I don’t know, Brock answered the door and wouldn’t let him in. Then he threatened that if he ever saw Damian anywhere near me, he’d deal with him. Then he shut the door in Damian’s face. Then he called his law enforcement buddy and told him to tell the DA to tell Damian’s attorneys that he wouldn’t only be facing drug charges but also harassment, assault and sexual assault charges.”

More air being sucked in all around as understanding fully dawned.

“This Damian Heller we’re talkin’ about?” Shirleen asked and I nodded to her. “Shit,” she muttered.

“Unh-hunh,” I agreed.

“Tess, I had no –” Martha started and I looked to her and cut her off.

“I know you didn’t and you wouldn’t because I didn’t have time to tell you. But now I hope you understand why I didn’t have time to tell you. And that’s just that. I didn’t get into the fact that Damian is poking around in Brock’s life to find some way to make him miserable.”

“Holy crap,” Martha mumbled.

“No joke,” I replied.

“Girl, I’m so sorry. This all sucks,” she said quietly.

“Yeah, it does. Because he’s a good guy, Martha. The best. I didn’t even know they made guys like him but I can tell you I’m not only happy to know I’m beside myself with glee that he’s mine.”

She held my eyes.

Then she whispered, “You do love him.”

“Yeah,” I replied. “He thinks I’m beautiful and told me so. He thinks I’m funny because I make him laugh all the time. He’s fantastic in bed and when I say that not once, not even once have we been together where he hasn’t taken care of me and it’s not unheard of he takes care of me twice in one go.”

“Oh boy, TMI,” Elvira muttered.

“Yowza,” Daisy muttered.

“Holy crap,” Martha muttered.

“Hold onto that one, girl,” Shirleen muttered.

My voice dropped quiet when I kept laying it out for Martha. “He gets close to me anytime I’m near. And his Dad says he does it like he thinks there’s a lion that’s going to come charging into the room and Brock wants to be close enough to protect me. And he wasn’t wrong, Martha, you know with Damian back, and Brock knows, that lion is prowling out there and Brock…” I swallowed as I felt tears sting my nose, “Even with all this stuff going down, Brock’s positioning to make sure that lion doesn’t get anywhere near me.”

“Oo lawdy,” Elvira whispered.

Martha continued to hold my eyes. Then tears filled hers.

Then she whispered, “You love him.”

“Yeah,” I replied.

“You love him,” she repeated.

I grinned. “Yeah.”

Then she threw both arms straight in the air and shouted, “My best friend’s in love with a bad boy hot guy!”

Elvira rolled her eyes. Shirleen stared at Martha like she had a screw loose. Daisy giggled her pretty bell laugh.

I smiled at Martha.

There you go. That was Martha. One drama fed into the next and all of them weren’t bad.

I sighed a relieved sigh and a knock came at the door.

Well, relief didn’t last long.

I looked toward the door and stared at it like on the other side was a dirty bomb.

“You two kiss and make up, I’ll get the door,” Elvira offered and I opened my mouth to stop her when I felt Martha’s arms close around me.

And what did you do when your best friend since fifth grade’s arms closed around you?

Yours closed right back.

“I’m so happy for you honey,” she whispered.

“I am too,” I whispered back then added, “Outside the sinister threat of impending doom delivered by one, the other or both of our exes and the cloud of possible terminal disease.”

She pulled back but not out of my arms then she said softly, “This, too, shall pass.”

I hoped she was right.

“Uh, girlfriend,” Elvira was close; I let go of Martha and looked to her then beyond her to a handsome but somewhat elderly man I’d never seen in my life was standing just inside my door. “You got a visitor,” she informed me of the obvious then went on, “Says his name is Dade McManus.”

I blinked at her then I looked at the handsome but somewhat elderly man standing just inside my door.

Whoa.

That was Olivia’s husband?

He was handsome, yes. And I could see even a room away that his clothes were of very good quality as in he was not a stranger to Neiman’s good quality. And he wore them well on a still slim, fit body. And he had good style. And he was only somewhat elderly.

Still.

Maybe Brock was wrong. Maybe Olivia did want her bad boy hot guy ex-husband back.

Damn.

And double damn because what the fuck was he doing here?

“Um…” I mumbled.

“I’ll only take a moment of your time, Ms. O’Hara, but it’s important,” he called politely.

Damn!

“Who’s that?” Martha, up on her toes and at my side, whispered in my ear.

“Brock’s ex-wife’s husband,” I whispered back.

“Oo lawdy,” Elvira muttered.

“You got that right, sugar,” Daisy whispered.

“Fuckin’ A,” Shirleen mumbled.

“Holy crap,” Martha murmured.

“Uh… I’ll be right there,” I called, he cordially lifted his chin then moved to study the books on my inset shelves.

Crap.

I rolled my hands toward me to indicate the girls should huddle, they didn’t delay in huddling and I whispered low, “Okay, I don’t want to go shopping but I’ll meet you at Club later.” I turned to Martha and ordered, “Text me.” Then back to the group. “Have fun and if you happen to see a sexy nightie that shouts, ‘Happy Valentine’s Day!’ there’s a free cupcake in it for you.”

“Make that a frosted sugar cookie with daisy sprinkles and I just found me a mission,”

Shirleen stated and I nodded to her.

“Two, if it’s super hot,” I said.

She nodded back, a determined look in her eye and I guessed from that that Brock was going to have a happy Valentine’s Day. I shuffled them to the door, called farewells, gave Martha another hug and then they were gone.

And I was alone with Olivia’s husband.

One word and it was a word I never used in my life: egad.

“Can I get you something? Coffee? Hot tea? Cocoa?” I offered and he turned from his polite perusal of my shelves to me.

“No, Ms. O’Hara, I won’t take up much of your time.”

“Tess,” I said softly and his head tipped to the side. “Everyone calls me Tess.”

“Tess,” he said back, I smiled at him and motioned to the seating area.

He took a seat in my armchair; I planted my ass in the couch.

“What can I do for you Mr. McManus?”

“Dade,” he corrected quietly and I nodded. Then he studied me a moment, shifted uncomfortably in his chair and then said, “I actually don’t know how to say this or even why I’m here.”

This was a good question that had two parts. The second part being how he knew where I lived.

“Can I ask how you, um… found me? I mean, where I live.”

“I asked Joey,” he answered.

Right. This made sense. The kids had been to my place and clearly Joel was as observant as his father.

His eyes locked with mine and he stated, “I might as well just say it because you should know.” He paused then declared, “I have reason to believe your er… boyfriend and my wife are having an affair.”

I blinked at him as my lungs contracted.

“What?” I whispered.

“I have…” he paused, “had the occasion to…” another pause, “hire someone to follow my wife,” he admitted. “And it’s been reported to me that twice she’s met your boyfriend for dinner.”

I waited for more.

None came.

So I prompted, “And?”

His brows drew together. “And?”

“Yes, and?”

“What do you mean, and?”

Oh God.

Belatedly, it hit me. He didn’t know his wife was meeting Brock for dinner to discuss custody. She hadn’t told him.

Oh God.

“Dade,” I said gently, “I know Brock has been meeting Olivia for dinner. This is because, recently, Brock made a career move which means his schedule is more stable. Therefore, a couple of weeks after Thanksgiving, Olivia received word from Brock’s attorney that he wanted to negotiate a joint custody arrangement. Olivia for…” it was my turn to pause, “her own reasons wanted to discuss uh…” Damn! “Various things with Brock including this and she asked him to meet for dinner. She was, uh… somewhat, um… discontent when he refused and she was, um… discontent in front of the boys so Brock agreed. However, after two dinners without a resolution, Brock will now only be communicating through his lawyer.”

His mouth had gotten tight right around the time I mentioned Olivia got word from Brock’s lawyer and it was stretched taut by the time I was done.

Then he looked behind me out my side window.

Oh man.

“She hasn’t discussed this with you,” I said softly.

“No,” he clipped shortly.

I remained silent.

Then I asked, “Are you sure you don’t want any coffee?”

His eyes cut back to me and he didn’t answer my question.

Instead he asked, “Discontent?”

I again remained silent.

“You mean she threw a tantrum in front of the boys to get her way.”

I bit my lip. His eyes dropped to my mouth and his mouth again got so tight I thought his skin would split open.

“Let me go put some coffee on,” I said softly and his eyes shot to mine.

“And my wife’s reasons for wishing to see your boyfriend do not all revolve around discussing the boys seeing more of their father.”

“No,” I whispered.

He nodded and looked back out the window.

“I’ll just go make some coffee,” I whispered, got up and hurried to the kitchen.

I set it to brew, put out a plate and did the unheard of. I put store bought cookies on a plate for company.

Sacrilege.

But I didn’t think he wanted to hang while I whipped up one of my extravaganzas so that was going to have to do.

I did unearth my fancy-shmancy coffee service and the cups with saucers, filled up the sugar bowl and creamer, set it all on a tray and carried it back.

By the time I arrived, he was still contemplating my side yard landscaping with its thin but pretty layer of snow that sparkled in the sun. But he wasn’t seeing snow sparkling in the sun, by the look on his face he was trying to figure out how to get away with murder.

“How do you take it?” I asked.

“Splash of milk, please,” he answered, his eyes moving back to me.

I fixed his coffee and gave it to him then fixed my own and sat back in the sofa.

I barely got my back to the rest when he launched in.

“They’re good boys,” he declared.

“Rex and Joel?” I asked.

“Yes,” he answered. “Fine boys. Very smart. They get good grades. Solicitous in their studies. Solicitous with practicing their sports. Solicitous in keeping their rooms clean.

Solicitous to their mother. Solicitous all the time. ”

This was interesting.

I had, of course, noted this. It was just interesting that he did and that he obviously felt troubled by it.

I sipped coffee and held his gaze but kept my mouth shut.

Dade didn’t.

“Tess, Olivia, she gets… discontent a great deal.”

Oh man.

“Dade,” I whispered.

“They’re terrified of her,” he announced, “or, for her.”

I closed my eyes and looked away.

Then I opened them and looked at him. “You need to speak to Brock.”

This time he kept his mouth shut.

I leaned forward and put my elbows on my knees, holding the cup and saucer in front of me. “If you have concerns, their father should know.”

“I have had concerns for some time, Tess. My concerns are one of the reasons I hired someone to watch my wife, outside of the fact that she’s slept with her tennis instructor and her personal trainer and the massage therapist at her spa. She likes to collect men. This is her pastime outside spending my money.”

“Perhaps you’ve misunderstood these relationships. Perhaps she’s just, um… friendly,” I suggested lamely.

“I have pictures.”

Eek!

“Okay,” I gave in.

“She’s a different woman than the woman I courted.”

Jeez, he said “courted”.

I nodded. “I’ve heard that before.”

“I’m certain you have.”

I had nothing to say to that so I didn’t say anything.

“I have not spent decades being relatively successful in a boardroom only to get played by an out of the bottle, forty-four year old blonde who doesn’t know the difference of the uses

‘their’, ‘they’re’ and ‘there’.”

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly.

“I am too,” he replied.

I put my saucer down on the coffee table and picked up the plate with the cookies then extended it to him.

“They’re store bought and that would be ‘they’re’ with the apostrophe ‘re’,” I said in an attempt at a joke, he blinked then I smiled. “If I’d known I was going to have a heart-to-heart, I would have been certain to make a chocolate cake, the heart-to-heart kind with the whipped chocolate frosting between the layers and ganache on top. Unfortunately, I didn’t know so this is all I have.”

He studied me. Then his face softened.

Then he said quietly, “I’ll decline. But perhaps you’ll send a slice of your chocolate heart-to-heart cake back with the boys sometime.”

“I’ll be certain to do that,” I whispered, setting the plate down.

“I would advise you to hurry,” he went on, I got the hint and I smiled sadly at him.

“I’m so sorry, Dade.”

“She speaks of you,” he whispered back and I pulled in breath. “To the boys and me.

You’re all that’s on her mind.” He smiled a small smile. “And that would be ‘you’re’ with an apostrophe ‘re’.”

I smiled then sat back in the sofa, muttering, “I was afraid of that.”

“She does not give up easily, Tess,” he warned and I pulled in another breath. “After my wife died, I told myself, not again. Never again. My wife was a good woman, kind, generous.

I did not wish to…” he paused. “But Olivia, she worked hard at it. Three years. I thought I was lucky to be a man who, in his lifetime, found two, beautiful, kind-hearted women.”

I bit my lip again.

Dade finished, “I was wrong.”

I tilted my head to the side, about to say I was sorry again when the front door opened.

Crap!

I turned to it to see my man, black, skintight, long-sleeved running shirt with dark gray piping and matching (but loose) track pants, his hair wet with sweat as were the muscles of his neck and you could see the dark stain of it on his shirt even though it was black wicking.

He took one look at Dade on my armchair, his brows snapped together over dangerously narrowed eyes and he rumbled, “What the fuck?”

I jumped up and rushed to him.

“It’s cool, honey. Joel told him where I live and Dade he’s… well, coming to terms with some things and those things aren’t the things that Olivia may have told you they are,” I explained then continued, “You need –”

“No shit?” he cut me off, eyes never leaving Dade, he slammed the door behind him, took two long strides into the room with me following and staying close then stated, “You got issues, you do not bring them to my woman’s doorstep.”

Dade straightened from his chair. “Lucas, I was under the false impression –”

“That I was fucking your wife,” Brock finished for him. “Yeah, Dade, I know. Your PI sucks. I clocked him five minutes into my first nightmare meal with Olivia so I obviously clocked him five seconds into my second one. What you obviously don’t get is that in a healthy relationship, a man doesn’t keep shit from his woman or vice versa.”

Ouch!

“Lucas, I –” Dade started but Brock cut him off again.

“If you got something to say, say it to me. Do not land your shit on Tess’s door.”

“He’s a little protective,” I defended Brock to Dade then I turned back to Brock. “Honey, I think you might want to get over being pissed and sit down and talk with Dade.”

Brock’s eyes narrowed on his ex-wife’s husband.

Then he asked, “You gonna tell me why my boys are jumpy as shit?”

“Yes,” Dade answered but said no more or at least he didn’t speak fast enough.

“So…” Brock started, “spit it out.”

“She’s fragile,” Dade stated.

Brock let out an entirely unamused, short bark of laughter before he declared, “Man, Olivia’s made of stone, figuratively and I assume you’ve fucked her so you know also literally.”

Ouch again!

“Brock, honey,” I whispered as Dade’s mouth got tight again.

“No, Lucas,” he bit out, “what I mean is, this is what she communicates to the boys.”

Brock’s entire body went still.

Then he asked softly, “She’s playin’ my boys? ”

“With every breath she takes,” Dade answered.

I froze and stared at Dade.

Oh my God.

“Why the fuck would she do that?” Brock asked what I thought was a very good question.

“I would assume, since you’ve known her longer than I, you understand that she’s careful to acquire important allies. And I would assume, as you divorced her, that your reasons for this were at least partly what mine are going to be.” I heard Brock pull in a sharp breath through his nose at learning this news but Dade went on. “And she simply is who she is. So, I would assume that you understand that she would need as much attention as possible as this is as necessary to her as breath but also to force affection she is not capable of obtaining in natural ways should, for instance, she need to battle me or…” his eyes slid to me then back to Brock, “you.”

“Fuckin’ piece of work,” Brock clipped under his breath, looking away while lifting a hand and tearing it through his wet hair.

“They’re exceedingly cautious around her because she dissolves into tantrums or tears often and at random. They have no idea what will set her off so they’re careful with everything,” Dade continued sharing and he looked at me. “She was not like this prior to us being married or, at least, not that I knew.”

“Let me guess,” Broke put in and Dade’s eyes moved back to him, “it happened, what? An hour after she signed the marriage certificate?”

“Upon return from our honeymoon,” Dade corrected.

“Terrific. At least you got the honeymoon,” Brock returned and Dade’s eyes widened.

“No,” he said quietly.

“Uh… yeah,” Brock replied.

“My Lord,” Dade whispered.

“So, you’re divorcin’ her ass?” Brock asked.

“Indeed,” Dade answered.

“Shit, fuck, fuck, ” Brock muttered harshly to the floor.

I would guess there were several reasons for Brock cursing at the floor. One of them would be that, without Dade, Olivia would be on her own again to drain him dry financially.

The other was that she would have the time to put more effort into making him miserable.

Damn.

Dade looked at him. Then he looked at me.

Then he looked back to Brock and said softly, “Whatever move you’re going to make,”

Brock’s head came up and his eyes locked with Dade’s, “make it soon. I will delay for a few weeks so the boys will have some stability, a roof over their heads, familiar things around them. But only a few weeks, Lucas. I cannot take much more.”

I felt my heart beating hard and I felt Brock’s body still beside mine.

“And,” he went on, studying Brock closely, “if it comes to that, I will do what I can to help you.” He paused. “For Joey and Rex.”

Wow.

Whatever they said about a woman scorned, when a man was… whoa.

When Brock said not a word and continued staring at Dade, I waded in.

“Dade, that… that’s very kind. Very kind. The boys may never understand but if they did, they’d appreciate it and, um…” my head jerked to Brock and I finished, “we do too.”

Dade nodded then said quietly, “This gives you only weeks to make that heart-to-heart cake, Tess.”

“I miss the deadline, I’ll bring a full one by your house and leave it on the doorstep,” I offered.

“My dear,” he replied, moving toward us and stopping in front of me, “ring the bell anytime.” He turned his head and his eyes went up to Brock before he said softly, “I started with a good one. Lucky for you that you’re ending with one.”

Wow. That was sweet.

Then he nodded to me and muttered, “Pleasure, Tess, thank you for the coffee. I’ll let myself out.”

Then he waited for my smile, skirted us and let himself out.

I turned to Brock.

“If you want, I’ll gather all the things I don’t mind you smashing and put them on the coffee table or, an alternate option, I can go grab you a bottle of beer,” I offered.

He looked down at me. Then he stalked to my armchair, sat down, bent forward, put his elbows to his knees and both hands to the back of his head.

I hurried to him and crouched down beside him, my fingers curling around his thigh.

“Seriously, Brock, let this out,” I whispered.

“Fucked up,” he muttered to his knees.

“Brock –”

“Knew I shouldn’t’ve but left them to her for a year. A fuckin’ year, ” he bit off.

“Honey –”

“She’s playin’ my boys,” he said still talking to his knees.

I squeezed his thigh. “Honey –”

“With every breath she takes.”

I squeezed his thigh again but kept my fingers tensed into his flesh and also kept silent.

“Fuck! ” he exploded then threw himself back against the chair.

I straightened, moved and climbed in, putting a knee in the seat on either side of his hips so I was astride him. Then I leaned forward, hands on the fast-drying material of his running shirt and put my face in his face, feeling his hands curve around my hips.

“This, too, shall pass,” I whispered.

“Yeah, babe, but it needed to pass yesterday or, say, two fuckin’ years ago,” Brock responded.

“Okay, it didn’t. You can’t turn back time, honey. Just talk to them.”

“And say what, Tess? That their Mom is a miserable, scheming cunt and their Dad is an asshole who put his job before them and left them to that bullshit?” Brock asked angrily.

“I would shy away from the c-word,” I advised on a whisper, sliding my hands up to his neck and holding tight. “And, also, maybe the a-word too.”

He sucked in breath through his nose and looked over my shoulder as his fingers dug into my hips.

Then his eyes came back to mine. “I want you over tonight.”

I shook my head and squeezed his neck. “You should be with your boys and Martha came by earlier, I’m meeting her and some friends at Club.”

“You didn’t hear me, Tess, I want you over tonight.”

“Brock, they need their Dad and me being around is just confusing them and making them feel torn and maybe even guilt.”

“Babe, you are not gonna disappear every time I have them especially when I have full custody of them. Eventually, this two house bullshit we got goin’ is gonna be done, we’re gonna be livin’ together and they’re gonna be with us.”

My fingers spasmed on his neck at this news, news it appeared Brock took for granted, news that was news to me.

Happy news.

He kept talking, cutting into the tingles I was experiencing due to receiving this happy news.

“They gotta learn her games just like the rest of us and they also gotta learn that a woman who’ll work twelve hour days and still break her neck to give them a fuckin’ good Christmas, smilin’ bright even though she’s got fatigue in her eyes is not someone they need to be confused about and feel torn and guilty about likin’.”

Okay, he wasn’t wrong about that.

“Okay, honey, but I have to go out with Martha. She came over and had a drama about how she never sees me. I need to give her some time.”

He stared at me and I could tell this wasn’t going over very well.

I leaned closer. “You have your talk with your boys, dinner, guy time. I’ll have my girl time and come over later. And tomorrow, I’ll make something fabulous for breakfast.”

“Tess –”

“Payback, Brock,” I cut him off and his eyebrows shot together. “They asked me to go to the mall with them; I declined but traded free baked goods if they found a nightie that a bad boy hot guy would appreciate being given for Valentine’s Day. I’m sworn off the mall until March. For you to have a happy Valentine’s Day, you owe them.”

He stared at me again for a few seconds then his lips twitched and he shook his head.

“My sweet Tess,” he muttered before he leaned in and touched his mouth to mine.

When he leaned back, I whispered, “It’s all gonna be okay.”

“Yeah,” he whispered back.

I smiled at him then informed him, “You need a shower.”

“So do you,” he replied.

“I took one this morning,” I reminded him.

“Well you’re gonna take another one,” he told me.

The tingles came back.

“Okay,” I whispered and he grinned.

Then he stood up, taking me with him and putting me on my feet, saying, “We gotta be quick, babe, I gotta get the boys.”

We’d done quick before. I preferred not quick.

But quick would do in a pinch.