Tumble Creek (12 page)

‘People make you feel like that often?' he asked.

‘Huh?' Damn it, her mouth trembled, her eyes burned and her throat constricted. Oh no—no—no, she wasn't going to succumb to girlie tears.

Shit!

‘Sofe?' His steadying arm pulled her into his hips. Her hands flew up to land on his chest wall, his heart thumped under her palms. He trembled slightly. So why, Sofie asked herself, was this big, beautiful bloke nervous?

‘Why are you shaking?' she whispered, mouth dry.

‘You misunderstood me. I would
never
deliberately make you feel small. That's not me. But it happened, I said something to make you feel bad about yourself, and I feel like a heel. Not sure how that works, but there it is.'

‘Oh, that's not good.' Sofie's mouth trembled.

‘Don't worry about it, Sofe. I'm a big boy.' He grinned.

Brock took a deep breath, his hard body flattening her breasts against his chest, his abs, and his thighs. Her rapid pulse, his body tight against hers, made breathing difficult. And if that wasn't going to push her over the edge then what he did next definitely would. His free hand slid up her side, skimming her ribs and breast, all the way to her neck, his warm palm holding her there, as his thumb slowly stroked along her jaw.

Sofie was going to self-combust at any moment. Why she did it, she hadn't a clue—insanity perhaps, who knew?—but out of the blue she blurted, ‘I have to ring Janet and Gina about life drawing class. Let them know I'll be back next week, and …'

Ignoring her impulsive outburst, he whispered, ‘You're perfect.' Eyes still locked on hers, his head slowly dipped. ‘You were lying on a red couch, not a stitch on …
I
know you're perfect inside and out … but no more posing naked, ever. Your bare soft skin is for me, only me,' voice rough, he whispered against her mouth. Eyes wide open, Sofie was mesmerised by his thick black lashes that slowly came down. ‘Mine,' he growled against her mouth. And eyes closed, he went in for the kiss. In one long sigh all breath left Sofie's lungs. Her legs folded, and with a moan she sank into him. Arms holding her tightly, Brock held her up. One hand moved down her back to cup and squeeze her bottom, then he tugged her into his groin, and the hard length of him pressed into her belly.

Oh my God.

She melted into him. Everything around her disappeared. There was only one thing on her mind—Brock, his mouth, his muscled chest wall, his powerful arms and thighs, his big hand on her arse, squeezing her cheeks.

Oh yes. More of that.

His tongue licked and played with hers. Sofie whimpered into his mouth. She ran her fingers into his silky, dark hair, grabbing handfuls, wanting all of him.

Their breath mingling hot and heavy, Brock lifted her off the floor and shuffled them to a quiet corner of the sunroom.

Sofie came to her senses. ‘What're you doing?' she breathed.

‘Nothing's happening, just giving us privacy.' Eyes searching hers, he stated, voice rumbling with need, ‘Tonight …'

‘That sounds familiar,' Sofie whispered, her breath short and shallow as Brock nibbled her neck, his mouth trailing up to her ear where he nipped her earlobe and grazed his teeth over the edge. Goosebumps ran down her neck straight to her nipples, tingling there until the little nubs puckered against her bra.

‘I'm a police officer,' he murmured, going for the other ear, ‘people do stupid things, shit happens. Which reminds me, next time your plans change and you're not staying at my place, let me know, yeah?'

‘Uh-huh …' Sofie panted.

Brock came back to her face, soft, sexy eyes roaming, taking her in. ‘You look done in and I'm keeping you. Go rest, I'll be back when you close.'

She loved the way his face and eyes softened, as if she was wondrous, intriguing, and someone he couldn't wait to explore. And then his smile would become wicked as if any second he was going to pounce on her. She wished he would.

A low rumble left his throat. ‘I've got a better idea.'

‘Oh?'

‘I'll take you home and you can rest there.' Chuckling, he added, ‘I promise you will. I'll take Sarge for a run.'

Bloody hell, was this going to be another missed opportunity? She really should stop behaving as if she were a naïve virgin, all round-eyed and innocent.

After informing Claudia, Michelle and Elliot, Brock held her hand and took her out through the back gate to his Ranger.

Maybe he wouldn't let her sleep, until after.
Right. Hope springs eternal.

***

Once parked in his driveway, Brock rounded the bonnet, opened the passenger door and scooped her up.

‘Um, Brock?'

‘Yeah, Sofe.'

‘You keep doing this I'm going to lose the power of my legs.'

Well that cracked him up. He laughed hard all the way to his front door.

‘What's so funny?'

He brought her up as his head came down, then his mouth met hers for a brief but very sweet, hot kiss. ‘Babe, I love it when you lose your legs.'

He loves it!

If this continued the way she hoped it would, she'd be looking for something to hold her up, a lot, and hopefully it would be Brock.

‘I don't know what it is about me, but Jesus, Sofe, I hope I don't lose it.'

‘Oh, trust me, you won't.'

He set her down on her bedroom floor. ‘Rest.' He immediately stuck his hands in his armpits, and then without another word walked out.

‘Okey-dokey then,' she muttered to herself, disappointed that he wasn't staying to strip her naked and use his masculine ways to put her into an orgasm-induced coma.

After hearing him moving around in the kitchen, she heard the back door close with a quiet click. Obviously Brock was trying to be thoughtful that she may be asleep already.
Yeah right.
Sofie stripped off her work gear, lay down on top of the quilt and pulled the other side over to cover herself. She closed her eyes, momentarily wondering if she should dig out her toy and ease the tension between her legs. Too tired to move, she was asleep within seconds.

‘Sofe … Sofe.' The harsh whisper filtered through to her subconscious, but she didn't care. She mumbled for him to go away, and snuggled further under the quilt.

‘Sofe!' A familiar voice rumbled near her ear while shaking her shoulder.

‘Wh-what?' She bolted upright and came face to face with Brock. ‘Oh, it's only you,' she snapped.

‘Thanks.' He chuckled.

‘Oh, shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound bitchy.' She pulled her hand out from under the quilt and rested it on his forearm.

‘I wouldn't have woken you, but your phone's been going off, might be Claudia or Jen.' He shrugged his big shoulders. ‘Thought I'd better let you know.'

‘Thank you.' She dived over the side of the bed, grabbed her black pants hanging over a chair, and pulled her phone out of a pocket. She slid her fingers over the screen; tension slammed through her as she saw the name
Elizabeth
, and she muttered, ‘It's my mother.'

‘I'll leave you to it.'

Brock disappeared through the door, but Sofie wasn't sure whether she wanted to call him back or not. With a sigh, she let him be and returned her mother's call. ‘Hi, Mum. You rang? Are you and Dad okay?'

‘Why haven't you answered your house phone?'

Nice one, Sofie thought. No hello, how are you, but straight into that tone she used, which made all her questions sound like accusations.

‘I—' Sofie tried, but was cut off.

‘Have you moved out? Where are you?' Elizabeth bit out. ‘Why haven't you given me your new number?'

‘If you would just let me speak!'

‘Don't shout at your mother.' Elizabeth's normal voice was always sharp, but with anger the pitch became a shriek that sent a shudder up Sofie's spine.

She flopped back on her pillows and sighed. She had to come to terms with the fact that, no matter what she said, her mother would take it the wrong way, so she may as well let her have it.

‘No, Mum, I haven't moved,' Sofie began, her voice stronger, assertive. ‘I'm not answering the phone at the house because a—a truck demolished it.' Why was it so difficult to say out loud without stumbling over the words and feeling as if her heart would break all over again? After all it was just a house, and a vibrator. She had a good mind to tell her about that as well. Now that would really freak her out.

‘A truck demolished your phone, how's that even possible?'

Oh my God!
Frustrated, Sofie yelled into the phone. ‘Not the phone, Mum—the house. Someone driving a stolen truck demolished my house!'

‘No need to shout.'

Sofie could almost hear the scheming wheels turning, the manipulations forming. Whatever her mother had to say next would be all lies, a means to an end that she alone coveted. For the good of no one but herself.

And sure enough, Elizabeth's tone softened, ‘Oh that's dreadful, how awful for you and Claudia. Why didn't you tell me? I could've arranged for you and Claudia to come home, back to Sydney. Come live with us. Let your mother take care of you for a while.'

‘Why would I be doing that?'

‘There's nothing in that dreadful dusty, one-horse town for you. At least here you've got the gym just a few blocks up the road, you could powerwalk there and back. Once you drop a few kilos we can go shopping together, won't that be fun. There are these great undergarments that pull you right in and I've seen some lovely frocks that would suit your colouring, you just need a few more highlights to brighten your hair a bit more. We could get a manicure and pedicure together, I know just the place. But you do need to lose a few pounds first of course. Wouldn't want you stuck in one of those chairs.' She cackled as if it was so hilarious.

Trembling with rage, Sofie yelled, ‘I'm not fat!' She had curves and, more importantly, she was fit and healthy.

But, too busy babbling on about opportunities and the men she could introduce Sofie to, her mother paid no attention whatsoever until Sofie yelled, ‘
Mother
—shut up!'

Blessed silence.

‘Right, first of all, how dare you infer I needed anything?' Sofie yelled. ‘I'm not fat! Not everyone wants to look like a skeleton covered in a layer of leathery skin! Or an embalmed Egyptian mummy because they've spent hours getting a tan in a solarium! There's nothing wrong with my hair! And get this straight, I am not moving!'

‘I can't believe you would talk to me like this.'

‘Well, I can and I will. You want to know why?' When there was no response, Sofie continued. ‘You don't want me—the real me. I'd be an embarrassment. The only reason you want me to come back to Sydney, to live in
your
house, is so I can pay
your
bills, take you to
your
hairdressers,
your
manicurist, and
your
shopping mall! To the most expensive restaurants so you can be seen by all the right people. You live the high life, you pay for it. So unless you have anything nice to say, don't call me.'

Her mother hung up.

‘Well, fine then!' Sofie yelled. Angry tears filled her eyes and rolled down her face. Furious that her mother had hung up on her, thereby seizing her power and denying her the right to scream the truth down the phone,
and
somehow making Sofie feel like a useless twit. In a rage she threw her phone at the wall; it crashed and splintered, its shiny guts exposed, and Sofie thought,
good
.

She pulled her legs up, wrapped her arms around them, bent down and buried her face in her knees. Unable to hold her emotions back any longer, her body wracked with sobs.

A big warm, gentle hand came to rest on her back.

Brock.

He sat on the edge of the bed, which dipped and her body moved. Tentatively, his hand slid up to her neck and stayed there.

‘Sofe?' he softly said. The tenderness in his voice hit her right in the chest and a new wave of sadness overwhelmed her.

She took a deep stuttering breath and, not caring how she looked, thereby irrationally
sticking
one up to her mother, she sniffed and raised her head.

‘You were yelling, couldn't help but overhear. That was heavy. You okay?'

Sofie swallowed past the constricting lump in her throat, and blinked a few times, but Brock remained a blur. She could not believe what had just happened and what her mother had said. It was as if there was no consequence that her words were like barbs shredding Sofie's soul, and the person she deeply believed she was. Would she ever grow past all this bullshit? She clutched the quilt up around her chest, hiding her body. And she was doing so well, even able to pose as a nude model for her life drawing class. All it took was for her mother to say she was fat, among other pointless jibes. God, she was such a conflicted mess.

Brock's expression darkened, his intense gaze roamed her face before settling on her eyes. ‘I can only guess what
she
said, but going by your answers, your mother is a bitch from hell. Unless you want to look anorexic, none of what she said is true. The image of you naked on a couch is burned in my brain. I'll say it again, you're perfect in every way.' He pulled his hand away from her neck and, with the back of his fingers, wiped her tears away, then he swiftly shoved his hands into his armpits. ‘Any man would burst with pride to have you by his side.' His tone, the depth of concern in his eyes, told her he meant every word.

Oh God, it was a good thing she was still in bed, because every cell in her body had melted, and standing would be impossible. Part of her wanted him to go and not look at her the way he did, all soft and caring. The other part of her wanted him to stay on the bed and hold her tightly in his big strong arms. Better still, she desperately wanted to say,
make passionate love to me and drive all negative thoughts out of my head
.