Brock twisted around to turn the bedside light off, then came back and pulled the covers over them.
Sofie couldn’t wait any longer, she had to ask, ‘What happened to you? How did you get those scars?’
‘Afghanistan.’ His fingers dragged the hair away from her face; eyes penetrating hers, he gently said, ‘It’s not a bedtime story, Sofe. We’ll talk about it another time.’
‘Okay.’ Brock was right, but she wondered if he would ever tell her, perhaps it was too painful to go back there. She felt his warm breath on her skin as he snuggled into the back of her neck, then he breathed in, moved slightly to her shoulder and kissed her there. Sweet tingles flowed down her spine.
Her ex, Jett, had never been one to cuddle after sex, he always rolled over, his back facing Sofie, and seconds later he’d be snoring. She wanted to believe Brock meant to make his afterglow cuddle a permanent thing. She loved every moment and hoped it would be like this always. When she and Jennifer were little they used to snuggle, it was their way of giving and receiving unconditional love and affection. Without warning Sofie’s throat thickened. Why she remembered this now was a mystery, but there it was, this is what they did, especially after an abusive barrage from their mother. Their father was weak, but he stole a hug now and then, as long as their mother wasn’t looking. When she happened to see him, he copped the abuse as well: ‘You’ll make them cry-babies. They’ll never get on in the world, they need to harden up.’ Once their brother Bret was old enough, they’d steal him out of his cot and cuddle him too. Sofie pressed her lips together trying to hold back a sob. Brock’s hand, resting on her hip, moved to her belly; she clasped it and drew it up to her chest. Tucked in so tightly, he would have felt the hitch in her breathing. There was no point in trying to hide her emotions. None at all.
Hand pressing into her hip, he turned her around to face him, and she quickly buried her face in his chest.
‘Babe, what’s wrong?’ his voice a worried rumble near her ear.
‘I—I don’t know.’
‘Yes you do, Sofe, come on, give.’
She took in a deep breath and tried to explain. ‘I’ve never had this, what we’re doing right now. You holding me. You feeling there’s something wrong so you turn me around. You, not lying there silent and getting on with falling asleep, but caring enough to ask, what’s wrong. Not satisfied with being fobbed off, but pushing for an honest answer. I’ve never had that, never. Growing up, Jennifer and I …’ she sniffed and pushed on, ‘then Bret, we helped each other as best we could, but difficult when we didn’t have the skills, going by instinct, going by what we needed when all we’d been fed was crap since the moment we were born.’
‘Sofe,’ Brock murmured tenderly. ‘There’s nothing I can do to change how you feel except give you more of this.’ His arms squeezed her to him and tucked her in closer. His hand went to her chin, lifting it, then he curled himself forward and softly kissed her. ‘I don’t know how anyone could mess with someone as beautiful and as sweet as you.’
‘Oh, that’s nice.’ She nuzzled her face in his hand and nibbled his thumb.
‘Sofe … You gotta stop that.’
‘Why?’ she mumbled around his fingers.
Suddenly, she was on her back and half of Brock’s heavy weight rested on her body, his thickening shaft nudged her thigh. ‘You serious?’ he asked, and keeping his eyes trained on hers, he grinned, and rubbed his rough chin back and forth across her nipple.
‘Oh, that’s … that’s good.’ She giggled, then let go a long sigh. ‘I’d love to but I don’t think I have the energy.’
Bending his head he sucked on the nipple then, with a pop, released it. ‘Okay, but just saying, I’m ready when you are.’
‘This could possibly happen around five-thirty.’
‘Don’t tease me. But later? I’m here.’ He leaned over her shoulder and asked, ‘You okay to sleep now?’
‘Yeah, night, Brock.’
He kissed the back of her neck. ‘Night, Babe.’ Then he kissed the curve of her neck. ‘See you at five-thirty.’ His lips on her skin sent tingles through her body, it was lovely, but she hadn’t the strength to do anything about it. Her eyelids slowly closed and within seconds, blessed sleep took over.
***
Brock reckoned it was all Sofie’s fault, she’d planted the idea in his head, and now there was no ignoring it. At around five an ache in his groin woke him. He lay on his stomach, knee bent, his raging hard-on pressing into the mattress. Sofie’s leg was slung across his thigh, her hand on his arse cheek, fingers twitching in her sleep. With one eye covered by the pillow, he opened the other and gazed at her beautiful face. He’d had an episode during the night, and woken in a sweat, breathing heavily because of a nightmare he could only vaguely remember. He was pretty sure he hadn’t yelled. Luckily it wasn’t like that every night, only when something triggered his active mind, like Sofie asking about his scars and his time in Afghanistan. He’d put her off, but that wasn’t going to last forever. If they were going to make their relationship grow, then she deserved to know what happened. He gazed into her relaxed, sweet face, thinking he’d only tell her the barest minimum. Why burden someone with that fucked-up shit, so unnecessary? Her fingers dug in. And Brock’s grin widened.
She smacked her lips a few times, slowly opened her eyes and mumbled, ‘I could feel you staring at me.’
Brock chuckled. ‘I woke up with your hand on my arse.’
‘Hmm, how did that happen?’
‘Babe, it’s not my hand on my arse,’ he said half into the pillow.
‘I need to pee.’ Sofie giggled, smacked his butt and rolled out of bed.
She came back a few minutes later softly squealing, ‘Oh my God!’
Brock bolted up. ‘What—what is it?’
‘It’s only just after five.’ She rubbed her eyes. ‘I need more sleep. Not enough sleep.’
Brock lifted the covers and Sofie flopped head first back into bed. Then he rolled out of bed.
‘Where are you going?’
‘Same place you went.’
‘Oh …’
He did his business and brushed his teeth as well, then cranked up the heat. Armed with lotion, he headed back to his room and to Sofie. Brock had plans and couldn’t stop the grin if he tried.
Her lifted the covers, rolled Sofie onto her stomach and straddled her thighs.
She wriggled her arse and mumbled, ‘Hmm, that’s nice.’
‘I haven’t started yet.’
‘Must be the anticipation.’
‘Uh-huh.’ He slathered his hands with lotion, warming it, then taking his time, he slowly massaged her neck and shoulders, moving down her back to her hips and bottom. By then he was so hard, the ache so deep, it hurt. But he kept massaging and Sofie’s moans of pleasure intensified his own. Then she started to writhe and arch her back, an invitation Brock couldn’t ignore. His slipped his hand between her legs and, bending down, he whispered against the warm skin of her back, ‘Babe, you’re so wet for me.’ He slid his hand up to massage her belly, then back down to her folds; slipping in, he found her sweet spot, his fingers easily finding Sofie’s entrance, drawing out her wetness, then wrapping his hand around his cock, he slicked it over the head and shaft. ‘Babe, raise your hips.’
‘Hmm, yes,’ Sofie whispered.
Holding himself he nudged her entrance. Sofie pushed back, forcing the head in, then slowly Brock rocked his hips forward until he filled her completely. Hands around her hips he began to thrust.
‘Oh God!’ Sofie cried out.
‘Babe, touch yourself.’ His voice rough, aroused. Without hesitation, she did as he asked. It was the sexiest thing Brock had ever experienced. He let go of her hips and brought his hands and forearms up under her breasts and across her shoulders, pulling her up, her back to his front. Still working deep inside her, one hand played with her nipples while the other pushed down feeling her skin through the valley between her breasts, down her stomach, her belly and then between her thighs, covering her hand with his. He joined her, swirling his finger with hers between her folds and over her clit. And Brock kept up the pace, hips rocking, pumping inside her.
Sofie, moaning with every breath, told him she was close.
Mouth in her neck just below her ear, Brock murmured, ‘Close, Babe?’
‘Yes … don’t stop. Brock, don’t stop.’
‘Give it to me. I want to feel you pulse around me,’ he rumbled against her skin before softly nibbling and tongue-kissing her neck.
Grinding her hips, she pressed her arse into his groin. With her groan, there it was, Sofie’s orgasm, clutching Brock as he rammed deeper.
‘Babe, unbelievable, beautiful.’
Her body jerked and shuddered. Though her legs gave way, Brock held her up against his front, then eased her down onto the mattress. He turned her around to face him, and fists on the bed he gave her more. Her deep blue eyes, almost luminous in the grey dawn, were locked onto his. ‘Stunning,’ he whispered, not losing eye contact, as he pounded into her, harder faster. ‘You got me,’ he grunted, face in her neck. ‘That was one hell of a wake-up-morning-nookie.’
Between pants, Sofie said, ‘There’s no doubt, you are the master, the swami-guru of sex.’
‘Not without you.’
‘Oh, I’m glad to hear that. I should get up, but I can’t move.’ She giggled, but with Brock on top it was more like a wheeze-chuckle.
He grinned, ‘Might help if I get off.’ He slid out, rolled to her side and out of bed. He held out his hand for her. ‘Come on, let’s clean up.’
***
Sofie was just finishing up on the breakfast crowd. She’d spent her morning making sure everyone had what they wanted as well as making time for Claudia who sat at a table nearest the kitchen, finishing off her homework. Now and then throwing questions at Sofie in the hope she could help. Now and then getting an answer from a workman dropping in for an egg and bacon sandwich to eat on their way to wherever.
‘Sometimes, guys are intelligent,’ Claudia stated, looking surprised and waving her pen in the general direction of the front door that was just closing behind a bloke who’d make a comment neither of them could understand.
‘He’s on another planet,’ Sofie said, shaking her head as the guy walked past the restaurant windows. ‘Hope he’s not driving or using machinery.’
‘He’s probably our bus driver,’ Claudia announced.
Horrified, Sofie swung back to look at her. ‘Tell me you’re kidding?’
Claudia rolled her eyes. ‘Yes, Mum. But really they’re interchangeable. Most times their heads are up their own arse, or their brains are in their dicks, or …’ she mumbled, trailing off, probably not knowing where she was going with this now, seeing as there were no more appropriate appendages to use for her critical analysis.
Sofie dried her hands on a towel, moved to stand by Claudia’s chair, wrapped her arms around her and kissed the top of her head. Then she straightened and lifted Claudia’s face to meet hers. ‘You’ve had a rough start to men and what they’re made of, but believe me your attitude will change.’
Claudia shook her head. ‘I very much doubt that. Men are very basic. They walk around blinkered and with one thing on their minds … how to get laid.’
‘Oh that’s very pessimistic, depressing, and not fair to bundle them all in the same basket.’ Certainly not after what she’d had this morning. Brock was none of the things her daughter believed men were. ‘What about Takumi and what he did for you the other day when Skids and his girlfriend showed up?’
‘He’s an exception, and so is Calum, and maybe Brock, though I don’t know him well enough to make an informed opinion.’
Sofie grinned, took a deep breath so she wouldn’t gush and quietly said, ‘He’s totally exceptional.’
Claudia pushed her chair back and stood. Then she grabbed Sofie’s shoulders and said, ‘And I’m totally happy for you, Mum.’ She rolled her eyes again, bent down to grab her stuff and shoved it in her school bag.
Oh crap. That sarcastic reply did not bode well … at all.
Claudia headed for the door but Sofie called her back. ‘Where’s my kiss?’
Hand in the process of shoving the door open, Claudia stopped, and gave Sofie an impatient cheesy grin.
Sofie gave her a deal-with-it-kiddo one back. ‘If I don’t get a kiss, I’ll chase you all the way to the bus and insist on one right there in front of all your friends.’
Claudia heaved a sigh, as if it took way too much effort, and moved back into the restaurant.
Sofie met her halfway, kissed her on the cheek and said, ‘Don’t pass judgement so quickly. Okay?’
Resigned, Claudia mumbled, ‘Okay.’ She swung around and took off down the footpath.
And Sofie ducked back into the restaurant before more kids arrived, which would embarrass the crap out of Claudia.
She closed the door only for it to open again. She turned around to greet the breakfast customer and ask them to take a seat anywhere, since the place was empty, but her words dried up in her mouth.
***
‘Sofie!’ Jett called out, overly bright and overly friendly.
Seeing her ex-husband’s smug face, rage instantly crawled up from deep within her. She didn’t think she still had that much, but there it was, filling her gut, her chest, crawling like acid right up into her throat, which ached to scream at him so much it was painful. She didn’t say anything for fear of shattering her flimsy layer of control. There he was, the man, the father, that turned his back on their daughter. Claudia had been daddy’s girl, given him all her love and trust. The moment he came home from work, she would squeal, ‘Daddy’s home,’ and rush to the door to fling her thin little arms around his waist. His leaving so traumatised her at an age where her father should’ve been there to help instil and nurture her self-confidence. And he should have been there as she was blossoming into a woman, tell her how beautiful she was, and how intelligent. Claudia had been a bright student but her misery showed on the outside and she’d quickly become a target at school. For months, Sofie held Claudia every night as she cried herself to sleep. She didn’t say anything when her sweet baby applied more and more make-up until she hid behind a pale Goth mask. Sofie did everything she possibly could to help her through this horrible time, but it was too late, the damage was done. What made matters worse, the only time Jett had ever taken an interest in Claudia was when he’d needed a baby-sitter for his twins. Claudia had told him to go fuck himself. And now here he was standing right in front of Sofie as if nothing was wrong. Sofie wanted to scratch his eyes out, make him bleed, make him pay. She didn’t do anything but glare daggers at him and wished the fire in her eyes could pierce his flesh. But all that was merely physical—and therefore not nearly enough. He needed to feel the psychological pain Claudia had gone through.
‘We have to talk, now!’ He’d meant his tone to sound like an order. Sofie remembered it well, that was just some of how he’d treated her the last five or six years of their marriage. But it was all pretence, underneath he’d become pathetic. ‘I heard what happened to your house. It’s terrible, but in a way it’s good, it moved things along.’
‘How in the hell does what happened have anything to do with you?!’
‘Well, I’ve been thinking and—’
‘That would have to be a first,’ Sofie cut him off, not in the least bit concerned that she sounded sarcastically juvenile.
‘Look, don’t interrupt,’ he snapped.
‘Ah-ha! And there we have the Jekyll and Hyde, Jett Olsen.’
Mouth a thin line, he furtively scanned up and down the street. A little more composed he went back to Sofie. ‘We should give our relationship another go. For Claudia’s sake.’
‘Claudia! Hah—she hates your guts.’
‘Well, that’s not healthy, is it? That’s why we need to talk this through. You come back to Sydney. Make a family again. We can rent a place first and then buy a house, near Bondi, Claudia would love that.’ To hell she would. ‘What do you say, you always liked Bondi.’
Immediately, her spine straightened, her body stiffened. ‘No we don’t need to talk and I never liked Bondi—you like Bondi—get out!’ Sofie hissed. Then movement caught her eyes: the school bus trundled past and she hoped to God that Claudia was busy chatting with her friends and not looking in.
His tone arrogant and to the point of sounding hostile, Jett spoke. ‘Now listen, Sofie—’
‘What?!’ she screeched, finding it difficult to believe he dared to take that attitude towards her. She collected her wits. ‘No—you listen—’ She stepped forward and poked him in the chest then wished she hadn’t touched him at all. ‘Get out! And if I see your face around town, I will get a restraining order out on you!’
A late breakfaster had his fist wrapped around the big brass handle of the restaurant door. Glaring, Sofie glanced his way, hoping the bloke got the message not to come in. He frowned at her then started to walk away while pulling his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans.
Jett laughed and her focus went back to him. ‘You can’t, I’ve done nothing wrong,’ he said, arms out to make a point. ‘Come on, Sofie, I can make you and Claudia happy, she needs her dad.’
Rage burned inside her; she wanted to hit him so much, she clenched her fists in readiness. ‘You should’ve thought of Claudia before—you’re too fucking late!’
Trying a different tone, he pleased, ‘But Sofie, leaving you was a big mistake and—’
‘What?!’ She couldn’t believe her ears. Then it dawned on her, Miss Universe had thrown him out, and now that that money trail had dried up, and their sweet Uncle Bob had left her and Jennifer a fortune in property: a fabulous restaurant plus home above, vineyards and a couple of pharmacies, he was using his new-found freedom to try and worm his way back in. Ha! Like that was going to happen.
‘Get out, you miserable piece of shit!’ Sofie hissed.
Jett stepped into her personal space and tried to put an arm around her, whining, ‘We were always so good together. I’ve missed you so much. I know we can be great this time around.’
‘You arrogant prick!’ Both hands on his chest, and with all her pent-up rage giving her strength, she shoved him so hard he fell back and crashed into a set of chairs. At the same time the restaurant door swung open.
Face like thunder, Claudia stomped in, shoved Sofie aside and, fists clenched, she hit her father in the jaw and stomach, hard. Right—left—bang on target!
Sofie put an arm around her waist to tug her away. Claudia turned on her and screamed in her face, ‘Let me go! I want him to know!’
She couldn’t be doing too much damage, it was only fair that Claudia was allowed to say her piece. Hopefully this would put an end to feeling worthless, of being so easily chucked aside for something supposedly better. Sofie hoped it would make a difference and let her go.
Arms up to protect himself, Jett reeled back. ‘Claudia, stop that! I’m here to reconcile. I can make it better, I promise.’
‘You were my dad once then you got tired of me and Mum. You left us to fuck Ms Vinegar Tits. You had twins! You left them too?! They need you, we don’t, not now, not ever! Our life is better without you—you pathetic piece of shit! You scum!’ She readied to thump him again and stepped back, fists raised like a boxer. ‘Don’t come near us! Don’t you dare touch my Mum! Stop texting me all the time. I will not talk Mum into meeting you for a talk! I will not make amends—I’ve done nothing wrong—you have!’ she jabbed a finger into his chest. ‘You—are—dead—to—me!’ Her voice and her body trembled with rage.
‘He’s texting you!?’ Sofie yelled. Finding that out in the heat of Claudia’s emotional explosion was more disturbing than anything else, especially since she’d felt the need to keep it from Sofie.
Fucking hell! But for Claudia’s sake she’d deal with the texting business later. Right now she wanted to pulverise him into the ground for continuing to use their daughter in the most contemptible way, but she couldn’t do that either. She had to wait, but when the opportunity came, Sofie would destroy him, verbally, physically, any way she could.
Utter disillusionment marred her daughter’s beautiful face, now twisted with hate. Sofie’s guilt, remorse, love, crashed in on her and tears rolled silently down her cheeks. It broke her heart to see her baby girl going through her own form of hell.
‘You didn’t give a shit about me or Mum. Get out!’ Claudia screamed again and kicked him in the shins.
‘Jesus, fuck!’ Jett rubbed his leg. ‘What is wrong with you, Claudia?’
‘You have to be kidding me!’ she screeched.
The restaurant door swung open. Brock’s big frame filled the doorway and his powerful aura electrified the room.
With emotions flying around, Sofie didn’t know whether to feel relieved he was here, or embarrassed. Hold on. Her eyes darted to Claudia who shook from head to toe. Shit no—absolutely no! She was not going to give embarrassment a look-in, not this time. Sofie’s mother would be mortified but Sofie didn’t care; if she was here, Sofie would give her the finger and take this confrontation as emotionally purging. No matter what the outcome, she would try and turn it around, make it a positive one for Claudia and damn everybody else. She turned her attention back to Brock, watching him closely. He’d assessed the situation the moment he walked in. So now what? Her only concern was Claudia; blind to everything around her, Claudia continued on her rant.
‘Get out!’ Claudia screamed at her father again and made ready to throw another punch. Brock’s hand cupped her fist, enveloping it, very effectively putting an end to her physical thumping of her dad. Enraged she turned her anger on him. ‘Don’t touch me!’
Brock remained calm and said, ‘Miss Dove … Claudia, I need you to step away.’
In the mood to take on the world regardless, Claudia raised herself up on her toes, lifted her chin and yelled in Brock’s face, ‘NO!’
Hands out in front, as if imploring Claudia to understand and accept him, Jett edged forward.
Brock pointed at him. ‘I’m Detective Sergeant Brock Stewart.’ And in a low growl he ordered, ‘Don’t move.’
‘She’s not Miss Dove,’ Jett began with a sneer, ‘she’s Claudia Olsen.’
Claudia rounded on her father, an aura of white hot-anger surrounding her. She leaned forward and yelled in his face, ‘After you left I changed my name to D-O-V-E Dove! You don’t deserve me, or Mum! I will never have your shit name again—ever!’
Ready to take preventative measures before Claudia shattered into a thousand pieces, Sofie took a step closer. Brock turned his head towards her, his warning look saying, Don’t. Brock didn’t have children, she didn’t know what he had planned, but based on the man she’d grown to know, gave him her trust. Maybe this is what Claudia needed, a solid, trustworthy bloke. A father figure she could call her friend.
‘Miss Dove, move away,’ Brock asked, his tone firm but gentle.
‘I—said—no,’ Claudia hissed, eyes sending daggers at Brock, but at the same time she was on the verge of tears, her mouth and chin trembling.
Back straight, brow furrowed, eyes like flint, Brock sliced a glance Sofie’s way. For a fleeting moment she read indecision, then nothing, the frown was gone, and so was the hard look. His expression had become blank, unreadable, a side of Brock she’d never seen before.
Jett tried to sidle towards the door. Brock’s body remained still, except for his head which he turned to Jett, and then in a quiet, scary manner, he growled, ‘I wouldn’t if I were you.’ When Jett stopped moving, Brock’s attention went back to Claudia and this time he said, ‘Claudia, please go and look after your mother.’
And bloody hell, Claudia nodded and headed straight for Sofie.
‘Sweetheart,’ Sofie whispered, wrapping her in a tight hug, which thankfully, Claudia allowed. Sofie wanted to say, ‘Yes, he’s a moron, and not the man I married,’ but refrained.
Fists low on his hips, Brock moved in, almost nose to nose with Jett. ‘You need to keep away from Ms Dove and her daughter—’
‘No I don’t,’ Jett cut in, ‘they’re my family.’
‘What?’ Sofie shouted, enraged.
Still shaking, Claudia growled, her hand fisting in her mother’s shirt.
Sofie held her breath as Brock’s sharp eyes narrowed in on Jett, studying him, and with a lip curl finding him, lacking, inadequate. Or was it something else … like, what a dickhead? Head slanted, his expression baffled, questioning, perhaps trying to understand what this man was about.
He straightened and said, decisively, ‘Their name is Dove, which tells me they want nothing to do with you.’ Muscles tense, Brock’s arms were straight down his side, fists clenched. Sofie could see he was fighting for control and silently begged he would keep it. Eyes not leaving Jett, Brock asked, ‘Sofie, do you want to speak or have anything to do with your ex?’
‘No! I don’t want him anywhere near me or Claudia ever!’
Brock gave Sofie a patient look, then turned to her daughter, ‘Claudia?’
‘I’m with Mum!’
Sounding fierce, Brock laid it out for Jett, ‘Take my advice and do as they ask, or there will be consequences.’
Eyes wide, Sofie gasped. Coming from a police detective that warning had to mean something.
Claudia lifted her head and twisted around to look at Brock.
Jett’s face paled. Still the bastard had the audacity to ask, ‘Are you threatening me?’
Takumi came in, he was just as quick at assessing the situation. ‘Detective Stewart,’ Takumi acknowledged his superior.
‘Mr Olsen, go with Sergeant Edward, I’d like to ask you a few questions.’
‘Wait!’ Sofie cried out. ‘I want to know—’ she leaned forward, angry, her eyes narrowed in on Jett, watching out for any flicker or change in his expression, ‘—how did you know about my house? How, Jett?’
‘I—I word got around.’
Sofie let go of Claudia. Fuming, she closed in on Jett. ‘You’ve been speaking to my mother,’ she hissed accusingly. ‘She hated you from the start, but I’m not stupid, Jett,’ she snapped out his name with contempt. ‘You’ve ingratiated yourself with my parents. They saw your fancy clothes, Italian shoes, your styled hair and thought, it takes money to look like that. Their hated son in-law has made something of himself.’ She didn’t miss the briefest change in the back of Jett’s eyes. Guilt. ‘Get out of my sight, you miserable human being.’ Sofie turned her back on him and opened her arms for Claudia.
‘Mr Olsen, it would be easier on everyone if you went to the station.’
‘What questions?’ Jett asked, voice on edge.
‘It’s just routine. We’re talking to everyone who knows or has heard about Ms Dove’s house.’
Seconds later Takumi escorted Jett out to the police car.
Unable to move, Sofie stared at the spectacle playing out as Jett questioned the need to get into the police car. Of course it didn’t work. Takumi simply shrugged in a please-yourself kind of way, but adding a whole bunch of words which Jett didn’t seem to like. Patience ready to snap, Takumi slapped his hand on Jett’s head and pushed him down into the car.
‘Mum?’ To get her attention, Claudia yanked at Sofie’s T-shirt. ‘Tak’s not going to punch Dad in the jaw is he?’
‘Are you worried about your dad getting hurt?’
‘Shit no, I don’t want Tak to get into any trouble.’
‘Oh, okay then, I don’t know.’
‘Sergeant Edwards can sometimes get impatient, but he’s not an idiot,’ Brock told them as he waited for the police car to leave. He ushered them to the back of the restaurant, and that’s when Sofie spotted Jennifer, her worried frown quickly disappearing as they headed her way down past the kitchen. They left Brock’s side and hurried into Jennifer’s open her arms for some great hugging and loving.
‘I was getting a drink upstairs. I came down as quickly as I could. But you were doing such a great job giving Whatsisface the business, I didn’t dare interrupt. Had you backed down for some unfathomable reason, I would’ve been at him so hard he’d need emergency treatment. But you both did great, and I’m so very proud. Thank goodness it’s over now. Whatsisface is gone.’
Claudia gave a half-hearted giggle through her tears. ‘Whatsisface? You’re funny, Aunt Jenn.
‘Yeah well. I never could call Whatsisface, by his real name, now I know why, he’s a prick.’
That made Sofie smile. It should’ve made her laugh, but she just couldn’t find any humour in this sorry episode, after all, fourteen years ago she’d made the monumental decision to marry an idiot. Claudia had no say in her predestined life, so she had every right not to laugh. There was no way to fix this, except maybe forging adoption papers. Now there’s a thought. Feeling a presence behind her, Sofie pulled out of the hug and tucked Claudia in with her aunt, then she walked straight back to Brock who was giving them time and space.
‘Babe,’ he murmured. He held her tightly, shoved his face in her neck, and kissed her there. ‘It’s over now, for both of you, I’ll make sure of it.’
‘Thank you, Brock.’ He straightened, giving Sofie a moment to focus on his face. He didn’t look happy. ‘Are you okay?’
Brock held her upper arms. ‘I’m personally involved. So far there’s no case against Jett if at some point that changes, it’ll get tricky. That’s all. I care about you and Claudia. You matter a great deal to me.’ Then Brock’s thoughts turned inward, and chuckling, he added. ‘Claudia’s growing on me, she’s one feisty girl.’
Liking the sound of that, Sofie smiled, which helped her racing heart to ease. ‘I’m so glad you were here. And God, I’m so sor—’
‘Sofe!’ Brock said, his tone warning, demanding her full attention. ‘Don’t you dare say sorry. There’s not one thing you should be sorry about—not one!’
She gulped and did her utmost to stay strong and not fall in a blubbering heap. ‘Okay, for what it’s worth, he’s never done this before. I’m thinking his easy money pool has dried up, and now he thinks he can get it here. He knows about my house, how would he know that?’
Taking in that information, Brock’s eyes hardened. He stared over her shoulder, processing. She guessed police did that with snippets of information, trying to piece the puzzle together, hoping there weren’t any bits missing.
‘Okay,’ he quietly said and kissed her forehead, then he ushered her to the stairs that led to the flat above the restaurant, affectionately called The Penthouse.
The stairs creaked and Sofie looked up to see Claudia rush back down. She smiled. ‘What is it, sweetie?’
Claudia didn’t say anything, but stopped a tread above them, her red-rimmed, troubled eyes on Brock. His soft ones on hers. Then he asked, ‘You okay?’
‘I hit my dad.’ Claudia shook her head and nodded at the same time, which was quite a feat. Then she lunged at Brock, her arms went flying around his neck, she buried her face in his shoulder and broke into heartbreaking sobs.
Hesitantly, his arms went around her back. Brock’s awkwardness didn’t faze Claudia. And in his own rigid way, he did his best to comfort her. Sofie was ready to burst into tears, and quickly put a hand over her mouth to cover an involuntary sob. Brock twisted his head to look at her, brow scrunched causing deep lines above the bridge of his nose; his eyes were a mixture of ‘what’s going on?’ and ‘what do I do?’ Sofie was in no condition to help. Then he asked again, ‘Claudia, you okay?’
Tears trickled down Sofie’s cheeks at the same time Claudia’s weeping subsided; she sniffed a few times, then silently nodded into his chest.
Slowly, she moved back, stepped away, wiped the tears from her face and said, ‘Thank you. I’m okay now, I’ll just go and …’ She waved her hand towards the top of the stairs. Before she left, Claudia hugged and kissed Sofie, muttering, ‘See you tomorrow, Mum.’ Then ran up the stairs to her aunt Jennifer who was waiting on the landing.
Sofie raised her arms and let them flop to her sides. ‘You sure you want to get involved with a couple of weeping women?’
‘Now more than ever,’ he grinned.
‘Are you nuts?’
‘Definitely, but not the kind you’re thinking of.’
‘You—’ she waved a hand at him ‘—you have to stop being so nice. I mean, fancy having to deal with me and my ex as well as Claudia,’ Sofie said, voice breaking. She couldn’t stop the embarrassment creeping back inside her, she hated it, it made her stomach hurt. ‘Probably everyone in town thinks you’re dealing with maniacs or something.’
‘Sofe, none of it was your doing, and not your fault.’ Soft eyes peering into her face, he cupped her jaw and neck. ‘You’re feeling history fall on you like a sledgehammer, and shit is stirring around in your head. Stop thinking. You can’t change anything, the past is done. It is what it is. To a certain degree, you can control the future. But even then, you’re thrown a curve ball, and suddenly you have to rethink and come up with something different.’
‘You’re right, but it’s so hard. Claudia is …’ Unable to say what was on her mind, Sofie shook her head.
‘You feel guilty?’
Sofie caught his eyes and nodded.
‘Babe …’ Brock gave her a small, but very warm and understanding smile. ‘That bloke Jett, you marry him knowing he behaved like that?’
‘No! I wouldn’t have gone near him.’
Brock merely gave her a look and said, ‘Right.’
‘Who made you so clever?’
‘You did, Babe.’ He chuckled. ‘You okay now, mostly?’
‘Yes thank you.’ She gave him a weak smile. ‘I suppose it’s too early for a gin and tonic.’
‘Yeah, and I have to get back to the station.’ He gave her a sexy, lopsided grin. ‘See if Takumi has left Whatsisface in one piece.’
‘Oh shit!’ Sofie cried.
‘I’m kidding—I’m kidding. Relax,’ he ordered with a grin.
‘I’ll try. Before you go—I don’t want to leave Claudia alone tonight,’ Sofie told him.
‘Wouldn’t want you to either. Claudia needs you.’ His gentle eyes held something she couldn’t quite get a fix on, and despite everything, heat curled inside her. ‘Babe, do what you want, whatever makes you feel comfortable, but look ahead, not back.’
‘I’ll stay here with Claudia.’ Face against his hard chest, she hugged him and mumbled into his shirt, ‘I’ll miss you … very much.’
‘Yeah … me too. Go see to Claudia. I’ll call you later,’ he sweetly rumbled, then dipped his head to kiss her, warm and deep, but not for long. When he pulled away, he brought his hand up to her face and, eyes following, he trailed the back of his hand down her cheek and along her jaw. Another swift kiss and he was gone.