Firestorm (Sons of Templar MC #2)(66)
Lucky grinned at him. “Sorry, brother, I can’t control what goes on in here no more than you can,” he said, tapping his head.
Brock shook his head and smirked good-naturedly. Even his crazy over the top possessiveness was no match for Lucky’s easygoing nature. I’m pretty sure it was impossible to be mad at him. I decided not to think on Brock calling me his woman so casually. I could face reality later. Right now I was going to make the most of the warm feeling that came from the statement.
“We’ve got one more to go. You guys wanna watch?” Macy asked.
I almost snorted. These guys were more likely to dress in pink tutus than watch a vampire movie with us. I’m sure they had heads to crack or guns to shoot.
Imagine my surprise when Brock gently shifted me over to lie beside me and gather me in his arms and Lucky settled himself beside Macy. Even Bull dragged a chair from the other side of the room to come in viewing distance.
Break out the tutus.
After the movie the men left us to it. I hated to admit the loss I felt when Brock peeled himself off my bed. We were settling into some kind of couple dynamic way too easily, like the last year and a half hadn’t happened. It scared me. And excited me. Then I got worried about being excited, knowing that something good between Brock and I would never last. Then I felt panic. This was all in the space of time it took to Brock to extract me out of his arms and stand beside my bed.
He must have gauged something in my expression. “I’ll be back later on tonight, Sparky. You good?”
The men had declared they had “shit to do”. This coincided with a text Bull got which meaningful looks were exchanged once he read it.
I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Yeah, peachy.”
He frowned at me a moment before bending down to kiss me firmly on the mouth. He pulled back an inch so our mouths were almost still touching. “Stay in bed, baby, please?”
The snarky argument I would have normally had for such a command was quashed by the soft tone and tender look in Brock’s eyes. I merely nodded.
He stayed gazing at me for a second more before he left the room.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I jerked awake when I felt a soft touch on my thigh, panic rising from the dream I had been trapped in. “It’s okay, babe, it’s just me,” Brock’s worried voice said from across the cab.
I glanced down at the tattooed hand on my thigh and relief swept through my sleep addled mind.
“Bad dream?” he asked, voice quiet.
I turned to him, emotionally wincing at the look on his face. His jaw was hard and his eyes were glittering with anger. He alternated between fury and tenderness the past couple of days and it was hard to keep up with. Not to mention a stark reminder of the reason for those conflicting emotions.
“Anyone would have a nightmare at the prospect of facing Katherine Abrams imminently,” I joked.
My relief at the familiar scenery whizzing past us was quelled by the fact that the closer we got to home, Gwen, Belle, and all my family in Amber was the closer we got to my mother. I had spoken to Gwen on the phone right before we left.
“Amy I didn’t want to tell you this, but every soldier needs to be prepared when going into battle,” Gwen had whispered quietly.
“Oh no, what?” I had groaned, thinking I knew what she was talking about. I just hoped she was referring to someone more tolerable, like Genghis Khan or Hitler.
“Your mother and father arrived late last night. Someone must have told them you were coming home,” she said carefully.
I groaned, burying my head in my hands. “Maybe I should go back to Clark’s. I like my chances there better.”
I was met with silence on the end of the phone.
“Gwen?”
“We don’t joke about Amy getting kidnapped until I get to see you in person and hug you and catalogue your limbs to make sure every one is still there. Then we have a stiff drink, you tell me everything that happened and I’ll decide whether humor is appropriate.” she said quietly, voice breaking.
Needless to say my chat with my best friend had turned serious then and I had to talk her out of driving six hours to see for herself.
We had stayed in New Mexico for two days, long enough for Hansen to feel happy about me facing the journey home without carking it. I had kept myself entertained with the help of Macy. She wasn’t joking; that chick was insane but in a totally good way. Her happiness and easygoing personality was contagious. It helped keep the dark thoughts at bay that included a knife and a seriously f*cked up Italian. We had hugged each other goodbye only after I made her promise she would come and visit sometime soon.
Brock had continued to treat me like I was his and he had been uncharacteristically tender. It unnerved me. It also warmed me from the inside out. This wasn’t the intense firestorm that it usually was when we were together. This was something different. He would gaze at me with an intensity I couldn’t place. Like he couldn’t take his eyes off me in case I disappeared. He held me tight when he squeezed onto the small hospital bed after I awoke from nightmares. He touched me with a familiarity and ease of someone that had being doing it for their entire life, while wearing an expression that looked like he intended to do it for his entire life. It scared the shit out of me. I didn’t know how to erect my emotional barriers again. He hadn’t kissed me like the first night. He had stroked my face, held my hand, and gathered me in his arms but his mouth hadn’t touched mine since then.