Sanctuary (Family Justice Book 3) (23 page)

Her therapist warned her about these things. The fear and anxiety she faced came with deep roots. The slow destruction of identity, a sort of fractured self-concept abuse victims suffered through, was tough to come back from. She’d relied on bluster, balls, and bravado to manufacture a false world where she and only she called the shots. But smoke and mirrors eventually lost their power. She truly felt naked and vulnerable. But through the shattered bits, she found glimpses of who she was before the bad shit happened. That was encouraging.

At the car, he turned her to face him and pressed her against the cold metal. All her nerve endings were firing, and she was having a hard time breathing.
I need this man
, she thought. Admitting her feelings, though, only made the crushing vulnerability seem worse.

“Don’t overthink, Heather.”

Ah, god. He was using that ‘I’m the boss’ tone. Hearing it made her tingly all over. Was it there all along and she’d just never noticed? And how come she wanted him to take all that newly-discovered alpha-ness and just …
Unf.
What? Take her the way she’d taken him? Turnabout was fair play, after all.

She met his gaze when he growled her name.
Don’t overthink?
Good grief. Who was he kidding? And she didn’t doubt there was a glimmer of defiance in her expression. Reflex. His smirk was the wild card. It was as if he was keyed into her thoughts.

“I gave you an order.” The teasing demand was enough to shut down all extraneous sound.

Pursing her lips together, she answered with an arched brow. “Did you just say you gave me an order?”

Brody chuckled and surged against her. It was thrilling to feel his excitement press into her body. “I did. Would it be easier for you to obey if I wrote it on a sticky note?”

Oh no, he didn’t! Heather burst out laughing. “Obey? Demand? Who are you, and what have I gotten myself into?”

“Women. Dogs.” He shrugged and pulled a comical face. “Firm hand is all they need.”

She swatted him on the chest. “I beg your pardon, Mr. Jensen. I am not a dog!”

All her fears that he didn’t want her dissolved like sugar in hot tea when he reached for her ass and quite audaciously massaged and rubbed. “We can test that doggie theory later.” His smug expression made her blush.

A big part of her wanted to wrap her arms around his neck and devour his mouth. She would have handled this moment like that before. But the truth in her heart of hearts was that she didn’t want to be in charge. Not with Brody, anyway.

Instead, she reached inside his leather jacket and put her palm flat on his chest. Feeling his strength and presence calmed her in surprising ways.

“So there’s going to be a later?” Shit. She wished her voice didn’t sound so needy.

“Yes,” he assured her. “But we play by new rules, m’lady.”

Well, pooh! She didn’t like the way that sounded. “Meaning?”

He put his big hand on top of hers and pressed her fingers into his chest. “I’ve been trying to come up with the right way to say this without sounding like a dick.” The warmth in his eyes went a long way to keeping her still. “Pops has this old-time way of putting things. Something about a horse and a cart and which came first.”

“Ah.” She chuckled. “The cart before the horse conundrum.”

“Using those five-dollar words, are you?”

Heather rolled a shoulder. “You have a distinct advantage in the language department,” she quipped, “being an English teacher and all …”

“Bah! I fell into it, and you know it!” He laughed. “Anyway, back to the horse and cart. Now, don’t take this the wrong way, okay?”

She stilled. Uh-oh. Brody pushed some hair behind her ear then pulled her closer.

“We’ve spent years perfecting the fucking, don’t you think?” He didn’t wait for an answer and just plowed ahead. “But when the dynamic changed, you got more than a little spooked.”

Jeez. She felt the heat rushing to her face and knew she was red as Rudolph’s nose. Spooked? Hell. She’d pulled a full-on meltdown. The things they’d done and felt that night seemed a lot like making love and were about as far away from the high-octane sex they were so good at as Mars was to the sun.

He waited her out while she did that inner dance. The one where scrambling to get your feelings under control was a command performance. Out-of-the-blue dance references from her girlhood notwithstanding, every part of her soul woke up and let a little light shine in when she thought that this dance, at least, was a Pas de deux. She wasn’t alone.

Every horrible thing she said that morning came flooding back. She wanted a chance to make some of that right.

“You know I was unglued, right? And my mouth said things my heart couldn’t back up.”

“Wow, honey. That you even said those words shows how far you’ve come. If you heart’s in this, I’m going for broke.”

“I do trust you.” The cold found its way through her dress and she shivered. Or maybe she was trembling under the weight of her admission. “But you know that’s hard for me.”

“Which is exactly why we’re fixing the cart. Now. Before we fuck things up by being stupid. Talking helps.”

“Where’s this going?”

He wrapped her tight. Her senses filled with his nearness. The smell of the leather, his warm breath on her face …
Unf
.

Clearing his throat, he looked at her gravely and said, “Ms. Clarke. Would you go out with me? And by out, I mean a date. I’d like to do the dating thing with you. For real.”

He was asking her to be his date. No. Hold on. He was asking her out? She was confused. “What?”

“I like you. A lot, a lot. And I really want to be your boyfriend. If you’ll let me.”

Boyfriend? Her eyes bugged out, and she was pretty sure her eyebrows shot right off her forehead.

“Is boyfriend the wrong word?” He chuckled playfully.

“Oh god, no,” she started with a jolt. “I think you’d be an awesome boyfriend.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Well, look, Brody,” she stammered. “Um, I mean … gawd! You’re like every foolish girl’s dream boyfriend. And, um … but … I don’t know much about being a girlfriend. Or how good I’d be at it.” Her history was too messed up to offer much encouragement.

Boom. A truth bomb.

“I know your heart, Heather. Just relax and trust yourself. Shut down that steel trap in your head. What’s your gut tell you?”

Well, damn. That was an easy question. “I’ve already said … I trust you. But that doesn’t mean I’m not terrified and unsure. Boyfriend? Girlfriend?” She shuddered.

“Good. I want you to feel all that shit. Let it happen, honey. We’ll figure this out together, okay?”

She nodded and sank into him. None of this was easy. She’d been running and afraid for a very long time. It was time to stop all that and face things head-on.

“I suppose this means we’re dating,” she murmured into the leather.

His laughter and squeezing hug were all the confirmation she needed.

“W
HOA, MAN. THAT’S
insane. Holy crap, Gus. You’ve done an incredible job with the kennel plans.”

Brody was clicking on all cylinders. He’d been in constant touch with his skeleton crew at the Justice compound, working up sketches and making an endless list of things to ready the agency for the changes to the dog program.

Gus’s grinning face gazed from the screen of the iPad propped on the table in front of him. Surrounded by piles of paper filled with drawings and a stack of resource books, they were Face Timing and shooting files back and forth on the laptop.

“Mr. Brody.” Gus chuckled lazily. “Not only is the kennel completely re-imagined, Ben and I have a surprise for you that we think you’re gonna love.”

“Well, shit.” He chortled. “If you guys have time for surprises, I must not be giving you enough to do.” Settling back in his chair, he picked up a pencil and started doodling as he listened, occasionally glancing at the camera.

“The aquatics guys were here working on the new pool area and we sorta got this idea. What if we made a small water play spot for the dogs? Ever see a kid’s playground with a water feature? Something like that.”

He was impressed. What Gus described was a fantastic idea. “Does Alex know what you’re doing?”

“Pfft. Nah. He has way too much on his plate right now. We could install a giant fifty-foot waterslide with flames shooting from the top and he’d just nod and walk by.”

That didn’t sound like the Major, but he laughed at the description because he could totally see it happening in his mind. “What the fuck’s up with him? The wedding making him crazy? I have a hard time seeing Meghan as a bridezilla. Not her style.”

“Oh, shit!” Gus laughed. “I forget that you ran out of here before Ms. Angie showed up. Hell on wheels, that one. A Marquez through and through.”

The man’s jovial laugh was infectious. Brody knew who he was talking about. Lacey was good about keeping him in the loop. Angelina Valleja-Marquez was currently
in da house
. Baby sister to Alex, she was at the Villa to help as Meghan’s wedding planner.

“She’s got Sully jumping hoops, walking through fire, and jumping off a cliff all at the same time. And lemme tell you, watching the man lose his shit over that snip of a girl is better than one of Carmen’s telenovelas.”

Parker Sullivan was an honorary Marquez so learning there was history between Parker and Angie was a startling development in Family Justice. Brody enjoyed that Alex’s oldest friend was getting his emotional balls squeezed by the man’s little sister. He was bummed that the drama was unfolding without him there to be a part of it.

“And don’t forget, with Mr. Calder taking off after Ms. Stephanie when she went back to Georgia, well, you know the Major. He wasn’t a happy camper about any of that. Doesn’t help that Ms. Tori misses having her mom around.”

Feeling slow on the draw, Brody stopped sketching and tossed the pencil aside. Dammit. He’d been so wrapped up in his own shit that he wasn’t thinking about what Alex, or anyone for that matter, was going through.

“Carmen is keeping an eye on things in the Villa. She knows better than anyone how to handle Mr. Alex. Well, maybe not like Ms. Meghan can, but that’s a bit of what’s making him a mess. He wants this time to be about her. And the wedding. Not his sister’s messy love life or his uncle’s equally sloppy relationship.”

No better human being existed on the whole damn planet than Alexander Valleja-Marquez. Brody hoped one day to be half the man he was. Though the Major would insist otherwise, Brody owed him a debt of gratitude that could never be repaid. Justice saved his life. Fact.

Gus’s mention of Carmen reminded him that the distinguished older gentleman had a lot on his plate too. “Hey. How’s your son-in-law? Any change?”

Besides the actual Justice Brothers, Gus was one of the first people he’d met at the compound. Over time, they’d developed a close friendship. Gus reminded him of Pops. Old school, hard-working regular guy with no frills.

Brody hated when bad shit happened to good people. A desperate fight against a terrible illness was tearing apart the lives of the older man’s grandchildren and daughter. He’d been almost afraid to ask.

“Not good. Not good,” Gus muttered before moving briefly out of camera range. When he slid back, Brody saw him swipe a tissue to his nose. His heart sank for the guy.

“What are you going to do?” he asked quietly.

Gus shrugged and gave a wan, unconvincing smile. “If things don’t start getting better soon, I’m going to have to go to Kentucky and help Shelby with the business. And the boys. She can’t run an auto body shop and raise two rambunctious kids without a dad.”

“Oh, fuck. Is it at that point? Gus. Man. I’m so sorry.”

Ugh. The poor guy.
It was much worse than he’d imagined. Justice was in Gus’s blood. He took care of a veritable fleet of agency vehicles and managed the stable as if he was born to it. It was impossible to picture anyone else in those positions.

“And Carmen? Does she play into this?” There was a long stretch of nothing after he asked the question. Gus and Carmen had been romantically dancing around each other for some time. The silence felt ominous.

“Sometimes, the timing isn’t right.” Gus looked like sadness was all he knew.