Tumble Creek (35 page)

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Authors: Louise Forster

BOOK: Tumble Creek
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She turned into his driveway, stopped the car and waited a few seconds. She hoped her timing was right and Brock was either still in Sydney or at work. All remained quiet. Good. She shoved the driver's side door open and cursed the loud squealing hinges. To save it from happening again, she left the door open. Okay, time to get this over with. She walked up to the front door, shoved the key in and opened it. She started hurrying down the hall towards the kitchen where she'd left her laptop.

But Sofie didn't get that far.

‘Sofe.' Brock's deep voice, harsh, and demanding.

Heart pounding, she stopped dead at the living-room door. Hand clinging onto the door jamb to steady herself, she whispered breathlessly, ‘Brock.'

Dressed in worn jeans that fit snugly across his thighs, and a black long-sleeved T-shirt, stretched across his deep chest and broad shoulders, Brock leaned back on the couch. His arm resting on the side, hand casually hanging over the edge, the other along the backrest. A stranger would think him relaxed, but oh dear God, the opposite was true; his face was all hard angles. With his jaw set, Brock's sharp, assessing eyes narrowed in on her, the dangerous glint unmistakable.

Oh boy, she was in deep shit.

Then he spoke, and his barely controlled rage hung around him like a storm. ‘What the hell have you
done
? Why the
hell
haven't you answered my calls, my texts? At the very least I deserved that courtesy.'

Done—done!
Her mind stuttered. Did he know what she'd been up to?

Concentrating on what mattered to her most, Sofie brought herself up to full height, squared her shoulders, and let her anger roll through her and out of her mouth. ‘Oh—so it's all right for
you
to take off—' she snapped her fingers, ‘—just like that! Even though you
knew
where I was, so that wasn't a problem. Tumble Creek is a small town,
and
it would've been damned easy to come get me so
we
could go to Sydney—
together
—to meet Susanna! It was all right for
you
to leave a barely legible note. It was all right for
you
, once you had me on the phone, you still had nothing to say, no explanation—
none
, as to why you had to leave suddenly.' She started to shake, and damn it all, she couldn't stop it if she tried. Instead she used it fuel her anger. ‘Do you have any idea how belittled you made me feel, how vulnerable and unimportant—how carelessly you handled the situation?! How carelessly you handled
me
?!' Shocked, Brock's brow shot up, eyes open wide, assessing. And Sofie thought, good!

‘What the
fuck
are you talking about?!' Big body rigid, and fists clenched to his sides, Brock surged from the couch and headed straight for Sofie.

Alarmed at the level of rage that electrified the heavy atmosphere, Sofie took a step back. It took him three strides and he was there, wide shoulders, deep chest, angry as hell, looming over her. She took another step back, he followed, and without touching her, pushed her all the way to the opposite side of the hallway. Sofie dropped her bag and brought her hands up flat to his chest in an effort to stop him advancing any further. But it was futile. And unfortunately, she couldn't possibly miss the heavy pounding of his heart under her palms. As Sofie's back hit the wall, his hands slammed the wall on either side of her shoulders, making her flinch. His manoeuvre had Sofie trapped.
Damn
. His body blocked everything, there was only Brock, his glare, his tension, his clenched teeth and distinctive scent of musky pine. She'd never seen him like this—
never
, and it scared the crap out of her. It also made her freaking-bloody-furious.

She choked back the tears that threatened and yelled in his face, ‘How dare you do this—this macho bullshit with me. How bloody dare you! You're scaring me!' Mouth trembling, eyes brimming with tears, she shoved his chest. He didn't budge, nor did he flinch.

Brock's dark, narrowed eyes studied her face before flicking up to capture hers, penetrating, assessing. Understanding flowed through his features and slowly, Brock closed his eyes, let his head drop, chin almost touching his chest, and in an agonised voice, he growled out long and slow, ‘
F-u-ck!
'

It didn't take a genius to know the cussing wasn't aimed at Sofie, but rather at himself.

He rolled his shoulders and his chest expanded with a few deep breaths. He lifted his eyes, they were bright, and held hers captive. His aura softened further, his hands slipped behind her and then she was in his arms. ‘Sofe,' he murmured against her neck, ‘that's the last thing I ever want you to feel around me. I fucked up—totally. I'm sorry, Babe, so very sorry.'

His entire body trembled—
that
, coupled with his sincerity, and there was no doubt in her mind that he meant what he'd said. But it didn't change the fact he'd left for Sydney without her, and without an explanation.

She pushed him back. Puzzled, he thankfully allowed a little distance so she could say what she needed to. ‘I think you'd better specify exactly
what
you're sorry about. Tell me why you rushed off the way you did. I have a huge crack here in my heart.' Oh bugger, she wished she hadn't said that.

Dumbfounded, his head angled to one side.

‘I know that sounds melodramatic,' Sofie cried out, ‘but that's how it feels, and it's bloody painful. And I'm going to be frank, because prolonging this is making it worse.' Visibly shaken, his frown deepened and his mouth went tight. Sofie nearly stopped to throw her arms around his neck, but held herself in check. She wasn't done yet. Focus, she told herself, gritted her teeth and went on. ‘You went to Sydney to meet up with your first love. A beautiful, vibrant and amazing woman with legs that go on forever. You love her, Brock, you always have. You told me how you lost her and I could see how much it still hurt you. Then to discover her alive—with no partner—why wouldn't you take up where you left off … sort of.' Her brows drew together, frowning because inexplicably, Brock was desperately trying not to laugh. His body shook with it. ‘This is
not
a laughing matter!'

‘Babe, you thinking that about me and Susanna is funny.' He sobered, his voice quiet, gentle, as he explained, ‘First, all the innocent lives lost would make me feel the same way, emotional and passionate. Susanna and I were
never
in love …
never
! We liked each other, we admired each other's work and ideology, but I never loved her and she never loved me. We were—
are
—crazy good friends. Susanna lives for Raff and journalism. And that's it.' He leaned in close, making sure she got it. ‘Understand, Sofe—lives for Raff and journalism.'

Mouth parted, Sofie nodded.

‘
I
, on the other hand, Sofe,
live for you
.'

Oh God, he couldn't have said anything more beautiful. Her mouth trembled, her eyes stung and instantly tears welled.

He cupped her face. ‘I love you. How could you so easily forget that?'

‘But Brock,' she had to make him understand, ‘you've said beautiful things to me
before
you found out Susanna was still alive. Without explanation, you went rushing off and left me stranded feeling like shit—wanting to kick you in the nuts and thinking a whole lot more I wanted to do to you. But mostly thinking, how you could be interested in frumpy me … Susanna is gorgeous.'

‘And it would seem a very fertile, very busy mind digging up more shit—and
none
of it's mine.' Frustrated, he slid his fingers into his hair, information churning behind his eyes. And then it was as if clarity hit, and he barked, ‘Jesus Christ, your mother and that mongrel really did a number on you.' He gritted his teeth, and added, ‘Your parents are mostly to blame, but arsehole cemented it.'

Sofie didn't know what to think or say about that except, yes, it was true. But she couldn't say that out loud, not yet anyway. She worked hard at her self-esteem, believed she'd grown stronger, and she had, but all it took was Brock's lack of communication skills, and the fear of losing him, and everything came tumbling back. Just like her sister Jennifer, she was never good enough. Her choice in clothes, her hair, her size, her teaching career, all of it ridiculed. She did rebel, got pregnant and married Jett the surfer dude, now arsehole, who took over whittling her down even further. Yes, she'd let her head go and fill with crap, yet again.

She should have
trusted
Brock.

Wind out of her sails, Sofie's legs gave way. Brock's strong arms caught her and held her close.

Breath coming in short gasps, she leaned back. Oh God, what
had
she done?

Brock studied her with a passionate mixture of anger, disbelief, and disappointment. And then he murmured, ‘I love you, Sofe, and I have for a long time. I didn't go there sooner with you because you deserved better. I thought
I
wasn't worthy, wasn't up to it—that
I
was broken. But now I see that maybe you're more broken than me.' Out of frustration, his broad hands and fingers wrapped around her shoulders, then he yanked her in close, and barely an inch from her face, Brock continued. ‘Listen carefully. I love everything about you. The way we are together blows my mind, but how can I win—how can I erase the crap you were fed?'

Oh God, this is it. He's going to tell me, he loves me, but he can't do this shit.

His eyes flicked back and forth on hers. ‘You're doing it again. Stop it, Sofe. Stop it.' He tenderly brushed her hair back.

‘Brock,' Sofie's voice trembled.

‘I'm going to show you what you do to me.' His eyes came within an inch of hers. ‘How only
you
can make me hard just looking at you. And you know that's true. Right now, I want to take my—ever—loving—time to make sweet love to you. I will
slowly
ease my hand down from your breasts to the warm, soft skin between your legs. And I'll make all your negative thoughts evaporate, same as you do for me.' He leaned in, mouth lightly touching hers, and tone erotic, he murmured, ‘Babe, beautiful.' His hot breath and sweet words alone had her there already. ‘Then, me inside you, deep,' Despite the heavy atmosphere, Sofie couldn't stop a little tremble of anticipation. Brock paused, then, concerned eyes on hers, he continued on a low, ominous growl, ‘But first I have to consider all the angles,' and voice deeper, more intense, he added, ‘to keep you out of jail.'

‘What?!' Sofie squeaked, her mind in turmoil. How did they get from his hands on her, and going in deep—to jail!

‘
Jail
, Sofe. You scared the crap out of me, and it's not over,' he told her. ‘I would throw in my badge for you, not a problem. Tak told me you went to Sydney. Do you know how
fucking
hamstrung I was. Could
not
make a move or I would not be able to help you if later everything turned bad. I have no idea what you were up to, therefore I had to cover your arse here in this town.' Brock shoved his hands under his arms, took a deep breath, and slowly let it out. Voice quietly rumbling in a calmer tone, he added, ‘You didn't answer my texts, and obviously didn't read them either, or you'd have known not to go there in the first place. You'd have known to drop whatever you were doing and get your arse out of there.'

‘Oh my God!' Sofie cried out. ‘Jail?'

‘Yeah! Breaking and entering is an offence.'

‘But I had a key!'

‘I know, Tak
never
should have done that! And the trouble you could be in, makes no fucking difference if you had a key or not! The door could be shut, not locked, Sofe, and as soon as you opened it, walked in uninvited, same deal—breaking and entering.'

‘Don't be mad at Tak, I'd just gone through a shit fight with Jett and ordered him to give me his keys and address.'

‘Yeah, and I said it was wrong of him to do that. What if a neighbour saw you, decided you were an intruder and called the police? Had you been there when they arrived, you would've been in deep shit! You went into his house for fuck's sake! For cops who only have cold hard facts,
not
your personal reasons for being there, how do you think that looks for you? They'd ask questions and if they're not happy with your answers—it could lead to you being charged with entering
unlawfully
!'

Horrified, Sofie gasped, and her mouth went dry as she felt the blood drained from her face.

‘Yeah, Babe, you're getting what I'm on about. We need to have a serious talk.'

Okay, it was safe to say she was in deep shit. Head down, forehead pressed into his neck, Sofie tried to calm herself. Letting her go, Brock moved back. Her relief at getting some breathing space didn't last. He nabbed her hand and led her to the lounge room. He sat sideways on the couch and pulled her down to face him.

He shook his head and said, ‘I need to know all the details of your trip to Coogee.'

‘Takumi didn't tell you anything?'

‘Only that you went to Sydney to retrieve something that could be in Olsen's townhouse. That you were so hopping mad, and the reason he gave you the keys and address to Jett's place was worth getting suspended for. He covered your arse any which way he could. Jesus.' Brock rubbed his face. ‘Okay, he did say that he'd recorded the incident and that it was up to you to tell me, because he sure as hell wasn't going to. I know Tak—
nothing
would make him shift. I left Rafael watching over Susanna in hospital and came straight here. For Christ's sake, Sofe, I was on his phone when he handed it to you and you chose not to tell me anything. Now here you are …
give
!'

‘Excuse me! I'd just had a moron try to blackmail me,
and
I was alone for most of his insane bullshit! And you were
no
help at all.'
Hospital?
Hand on her chest, Sofie gasped. ‘Susanna's in hospital?' Sofie yelled, and lashed out, thumping him on the shoulder, and he let her. ‘Why didn't you say?! What happened?'

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