Sanctuary (Family Justice Book 3) (27 page)

Well, that’s a new one
, she thought.
And you know what? I’m taking it.

Brody knew he looked ridiculous running like a crazy man from one side of the car to the other like his ass was on fire, but he didn’t care. She was ready to talk, and he couldn’t get in the driver’s seat fast enough.

Seated, the engine on and heat set comfortably, he turned toward her and gave every scintilla of attention he could.

There’d be no verbal gymnastics. He went straight to what bothered him. “I need to know if I did something or said something to your mother that upset you.”

Unbuttoning her jacket, she nodded. Now, if only she’d do more than unbutton. His jaw clenched as he imagined her stripped to her underwear and falling face first into his lap.

When she swiveled enough to lean back against the car door then crossed her legs, he made a fierce effort to rein in his thoughts.

In a husky murmur she said, “You didn’t do anything.” With an apologetic shrug, she confessed, “I do it to myself. And for the record … I don’t blame you.”

“Did you not want me to meet your mom?”

“Oh god, no. I’m glad you did, but she hustled me and you know how that goes. Would I have preferred a meeting took place on my terms and when I was ready? Of course. But that’s not how parents operate.”

He sniggered and gave her an amusing smirk. “Understood. Pops lets me blow all sorts of bullshit sunshine up his shorts. And then when he wants answers, I’m sorta fucked. Y’know?”

“Exactly,” she drawled. He liked when she made a smirking face. It got him smiling every time. “First, she laid on a shmear of guilt so thick I couldn’t defend. When she pulled her ace out of the hat and demanded a face-to-face … like you said. Fucked.”

“So she knew about us?”

Her laughter rang out. “No. She suspected and after an airing of all my grievous faults, I wasn’t going to deny it. But here’s the thing and please don’t take any of this personally. That’s important, okay? No matter how this sounds, it’s about me. Not you.”

He nodded. This was a point that came up time all the time in their group. Separating other people’s feelings about what was happening from yours. Not everything was a two-way street.

“Okay, here goes.” She made eye contact and didn’t look away. “I know this is fucked up, but when I really think about it, maybe one reason why I’ve held myself apart from practically everything, “ she grimaced. “Has more to do with what I’m feeling right now than anything that happened to me.”

His eyes bored into hers.

“You see, I have a history of going along with things. Maybe simplistic, but accurate.”

“I don’t understand. You’re about the least likely person to be a follower.”

“Seems that way now, I know. But what people see is more about denial than leadership. When I look back, all I see is someone who went with the flow. No boat rocking for me. And look how that ended.”

Ohhh. Right. He knew what this was now. Her mother referred to him as a boyfriend. He’d unconsciously noted Heather flinch at the word. But it was just a word, and if he wasn’t her boyfriend, then what did that make him?

“Heather,” he grunted. She looked wary, but he plowed on. He’d asked her to trust him. It was up to him to keep the pressure on since that seemed to be the only way to keep their relationship moving forward. They were so close now that he could see glimmers of the future. All she needed was a helping hand, and she’d get there on her own.

“I know what’s in your heart even when you keep things bottled up inside. Did you think I wouldn’t notice that your mom called me your boyfriend or that your reaction went unnoticed?”

He saw the relief in her eyes and didn’t exactly feel bad that Jason Allen was dead and buried. ‘Cause if he weren’t, he’d have to hunt him down and kick his ass for stealing her confidence.

Trying to inject a bit of levity, he grinned. “Now, I know that at our advanced ages.” He laughed when she gasped. “The terms boy and girl friend seem like a joke, but be honest … what else fits? And I recall asking your consent to be the official boyfriend person. Remember?”

She crossed her arms and speared him with a mock glare. On a sniff of outrage, she starchily said, “Well, since you’ve taken lovers off the table …”

“Fuck. Wait! What did you say? Lovers?” he barked. “Are you admitting we’re lovers? Holy shit, lady. If that’s the case, hand me your panties and do it quickly.”

“Brody!” She giggled when he reached out and playfully started pulling on her dress.

“No. I’m serious, Ms. Clarke. I knew this dating shit would pay off! Lovers. Fuck, yeah.”

“Oh.” She chortled while slapping his hands away. “So all this has just been a ploy to get me into bed.”

“Bed. The front seat. Out in the parking lot. Up against the car. An elevator. Your office. It’s all good,” he growled.

“Can you be serious for five minutes?”

Serious? Sure. He could do serious. Leaning toward the center console, he reached a hand, curled it around her neck, and pulled. “This serious enough for you?” And then he kissed her. When he was sure she got the message, he released her with a groan.

“What happened to keeping a distance?”

“See this?” He pointed at the console. “It’s a fucking chastity belt. Long as you stay on that side, your reputation remains intact.”

“Such a guy,” she moaned lightheartedly.

Okay, good. She eased up. That was what he’d hoped for. Now, he could try to make a point she needed to hear.

“Heather. I want you in my life. Yeah, I see that the days are ticking by and more changes are coming our way, but that’s life, honey. Nothing stays the same. At least, it shouldn’t. And meeting what life hands us isn’t about going along. You can walk away anytime.”

“I know, but …”

“Nuh-uh. Stop that shit. No apologies and no buts. You talk to me, and we work it out. I already told you, as much as I want Arizona to be in
our
future, without you, it’s not worth it.”

“But …”

He arched an eyebrow and cocked his head. “You have a hard time doing what you’re told. I said no to the buts. I’m your goddamn boyfriend, understood? And if you’re a good girl and stop being such a pain in the ass …”

She swatted his arm and barked, “Hey!” so fast he jerked back.

Grabbing both her hands in a grip she’d never wiggle free from, he chuckled. “If you’d let me finish—what I started to say was that if you’d stop being a pain, I have a question to ask you.”

Heather gasped. He plowed on. “An important question.”

“M
RS. ANDERS. I
appreciate your concern for Harry’s grades, but this is college. Not high school. You can’t expect to personally lobby each of his instructors and hector them into a grade he didn’t earn.”

The hands-on mom with the patented
do you know who you're dealing with
haughtiness tried staring her down. Situations like this were exactly why her job was losing its appeal. While the clueless parent manufactured a stink about her son’s lackluster G.P.A., Harry the asshole sat across the office with his phone doing god knows what. Candy Crush maybe. Or worse. He was probably snap chatting this entire conversation.

What the hell ever happened to using her talents and skills to be an agent of change?
Pfft.

“Let’s see what Harry does for the remainder of this term. I mean, after all, it’s up to him. He’s been assigned a tutor for math and science, but so far …” She glanced down at the stack of notes before her. “So far, he hasn’t shown up even once.”

Harry snickered but never looked up from his phone. Little fucker. Manners optional, much? She wanted to get up, march over to him, rip the damn phone out of his hand, and stomp it to pieces.

A dull throb was moving side to side in her head. She needed some Advil. Or the chocolate bar stashed in her desk drawer. Either would do.

Checking the calendar in the corner of her monitor, she added, “There are nine weeks until finals. More than enough time for your son to turn things around.”

Goosebumps raced up the back of her neck when the calendar showed more than just marking periods. In four short weeks, Brody would be heading to Boston for spring break to attend a Justice wedding. And she was going with him. As his … girlfriend.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. She wanted this annoying woman and her obnoxious, entitled, do nothing kid to hit the road so she could go back to sitting in her empty office and obsess over every nuance and detail of what she was inviting into her life.

But first, Mrs. Anders and her demon spawn had to go.
Nothing was being accomplished in this meeting,
she reminded herself. Nothing. It was sad on so many levels. Here was a kid being handed an education but what was he doing? God only knows, but from an academic standpoint, he wasn’t even phoning it in.

This was her professional life. No wonder her brain felt like it was being squished. With a rueful smirk, she tuned in to what was being said and decided that both the Advil and the chocolate were getting the call. This nonsense was bullshit.

In the end, she simply smiled and nodded sympathetically but stood her ground. She was just the messenger, after all. The instructors were in charge of this particular speeding train.

Relieved when the door shut behind her last scheduled appointment for the day, Heather sank into her chair and folded melodramatically onto the wood desk like a marionette whose strings were suddenly cut.

“Fuck. My. Life.” A long, drawn-out sigh-groan rumbled from deep inside. What if this was it? Professional Feather Calmer and Chain Rattling Buster. That was her.

Bzzz. Bzzz.
She opened an eye and watched her buzzing phone vibrate on the desk. Without picking up her head, she lifted a limp hand and angled the device so it tilted enough to see the screen. Who in the hell was bothering her at work?

Brody. Quickly sitting up, she swatted away a sticky note stuck to her cheek and nibbled her lip. He was conscientious about not interrupting her professional day, but then again, strictly speaking, it
was
quitting time.

Her body’s traitorous reaction was instantaneous. Breasts tight and aching. Heart pounding. Panties heating up. She pressed her thighs together to stop the pulsing twinges that unraveled her every time.

Brody’s brand of enforced chastity was making her crazy. His refusal to sleep with her stayed firm, although what point he was hoping to make eluded Heather. Especially since he’d been faithfully and most deliciously seeing to her needs at every drop of the hat. The man came with one setting—an insatiable hunger for pussy. Hers. Ever since her mom’s surprise visit and what happened after, he’d been single-minded in his focus. Each time she closed her eyes, she could see the image of her sexy cowboy planted between her thighs.

As for the question he asked? Heather remembered the moment with crystal-clear clarity. When he said ‘an important question’, her heart almost exploded. Out of nowhere she imagined he was going to propose. God almighty. She’d actually thought he wanted to ask
that question
.

But marriage was the furthest thing from Brody’s mind. Marriage with her, anyway. When he’d gone on and on about this Meghan person as if she was the first and only woman ever to get married, Heather felt like screaming. The respect he felt for the groom and his obvious emotional connection to the man all that stopped her from overreacting. Brody spoke of Alex Marquez in epic, heroic terms that she found intriguing. He must be quite a guy.