Chapter Eight

Cassie tried to keep her mind on the road, but her thoughts kept straying back to what Brock had said back in the barn about his past. She ached for the young boy who had lost his parents and everything he’d known, and it gave her a newfound wonder at the strength and humor she found in this handsome cowboy.

She could tell Brock didn’t want to hear any of that, though, and she could understand why. He’d probably gotten more sympathy from people than he knew what to do with, and she’d had enough sympathy after Hank’s death to last her a lifetime. Just being able to talk about normal life without that pity hovering around the edges was all she’d wanted after his crash, and she bet Brock felt the same way.

So normal was exactly what she’d give him.

Once she parked the car, she enlisted the boys to carry a single piece of lumber between them and readied herself for another bout of heavy lifting. She and Brock gathered the boards and began moving them, load by load, from the bed of the truck, around the side of the house and finally to a growing pile of lumber near the corner of the fence closest to the paddock while the boys “helped” as much as they could.

Cassie’s still-sore muscles began to protest almost immediately, but she ignored them. Brock pushed himself, and she didn’t complain, happy to be working so hard she couldn’t fixate on the way his muscles looked under his shirt or think about the way his lips felt against hers, or how he had opened up and shared his past with her.

None of that was helpful here. She just needed to concentrate on what she was doing.

Once all the lumber was out of the truck and in a big pile, she sat on the boards and sucked in a few slow breaths while the boys dropped their last piece on the ground with a thunk. Brock sat beside her to rest, too, and they watched as the energetic boys tried to make their few boards into a respectable pile like that of the adults. There was a faint ding from Brock’s pocket, and he shifted his weight as he attempted to extricate his phone from his jeans.

Cassie could feel the wood heap move beneath her, but it was too late to hop off, and she tumbled to the ground along with the lumber. She heard Brock thud beside her and swear under his breath. She turned toward him, worried he was injured.

He had fallen so close to her that her movements brought her to rest with her chest pressed against his arm. She scrambled away as if he was too hot to touch—which in a way, he was. As if she wasn’t having a difficult enough time already. Then she noticed that he was still on the floor, and she dropped to her knees beside him. “Brock? Are you okay?”

He grimaced as he tried to sit up. “Yeah, it’s just my back. I tweaked it when I fell.”

Cassie offered him her hand, and with her help he was able to stand, though he was obviously still in pain. “It just does this sometimes. Has for years,” he said through gritted teeth.

“I think we should take you in for a scan, just to be sure you’re fine,” she said, her training as a doctor taking over.

Brock shook his head. “I promise, it’s not a big deal, Doc. A bit of aspirin and some stretches and I’ll be right as rain.”

“Can I at least take a look?” she asked, though part of her objected to the idea of seeing more of his body than she absolutely needed to.

She was a doctor, and now was the time to be professional.

Brock glanced at her for just a moment, as if he had some idea what she was thinking, then turned his back to her. She pulled up his shirt and looked at his back, running her hands over his skin, trying to ignore the way his obvious strength made her stomach melt into a puddle.

They were just friends, that was all, she told herself. Yes, he was fit. Yes, if she slid her hands around to his stomach she would likely find six-pack abs that would make her knees go weak. Yes, he could lift her up and pin her against a wall like she’d pictured in her fantasies.

Whoa, Nelly.

She put her hands in her pockets in order to keep herself from touching him any more. “Nothing seems out of place or anything. Likely just a muscle spasm, though you really should get it checked out if it happens often.”

Brock pulled down his shirt as he turned, giving her just a glimpse of those abs. Lord, what had she done to deserve this type of punishment? “Sorry about that. You could’ve been hurt.”

She waved away his apology. “It was an accident. You were just checking your phone.”

Apparently he’d forgotten about his phone until then, and he pulled it out of his pocket. After a few seconds, he looked up. “My brothers. They were texting to say they’re almost here. I should go out and meet them.”

Cassie nodded. “Head through the house and get some aspirin. There’s a bottle in the cabinet above the kitchen sink. I’ll work on stacking the lumber a bit more securely than before,” she said, giving him a little smile, which he returned.

She watched him, trying to focus her thoughts and energy into his health and getting the hay turned into bales and sold. The stuff that mattered. Instead, though, her mind kept returning to the feeling of sliding her hands along Brock’s skin. When his eyes caught hers, they held for a long moment, and she wondered if he was thinking of the same thing. She waited for him to say something, do something.

Without saying anything, he turned and walked to the back door of the house. She sat down on what was left of the lumber pile, trying to catch her breath.

“What should we do, Momma?” Zach and Carter asked in unison, clearly itching to help more.

Cassie looked at her hands as she tried to think of something for them to do. The splinters in her palm gave her all the inspiration she needed. “Go grab the tweezers from the drawer under my bathroom sink. I have some splinters, and you probably do, too.”

The two boys looked at their hands for a moment, nodded, and took off for the back door. Cassie closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the moment of silence and calm.

* * *

BROCK TOOK A few gulps of water to get down the aspirin and watched as Zach and Carter sprinted past him, bouncing off the walls in their hurry to do whatever mission they were on. Then he walked through the house and out the front door, unsure if he was happy or not to be away from Cassie’s stare. As Brock moved carefully down the steps, his brothers Jose and Diego stepped out of their black truck.

“Hey, Broccoli,” Jose said, giving Brock a big trademark grin.

Brock rolled his eyes at the dumb nickname and hugged each of the identical men. “Glad you two could make it. How’s the business going?”

Diego just shrugged, but Jose slapped Brock on the back, making pain flare through his body for a moment. Jose didn’t notice. “Couldn’t be better. We’ll be millionaires by the time we’re thirty. Soon you’ll be part of the family we’ve forgotten during our rise to fame and fortune.”

Jose had always been the joker of the family, and most people were only able to tell him and Diego apart because Jose was the one who always had a smart-ass comment and a wide grin. Diego, the more serious of the two, got down to business. “You’ve got some fields for us to check out?”

Brock beckoned them to follow, and he walked back into Cassie’s home with the two trailing him. “Is your back giving you trouble again?” Diego asked, more aware than his twin, as usual.

Brock nodded. “I fell just a couple of minutes ago. Should be fine soon enough.”

He brought Jose and Diego into the kitchen. He could see Cassie from the window, dragging the boards back into a pile. He should’ve known she wouldn’t waste any time waiting for him, though he wasn’t sure how much he’d be able to do with his back the way it was.

He turned back to the kitchen, about to tell his brothers to follow him outside, only to find a strange sight behind him: Zach and Carter, standing side-by-side, staring up at Jose and Diego. The two pairs of twins gave each other a once-over. A twice-over? Brock didn’t think that was a thing, but it definitely applied to this moment.

“You look the same,” Zach commented.

Jose and Diego glanced at each other. “So do you,” Diego said.

Zach and Carter shook their heads in unison. “Nuh-uh,” Carter said.

“Carter has more freckles on his nose,” Zach added.

“And Zach’s eyes are darker,” Carter finished.

Jose and Diego nodded, as if this made perfect sense. “Diego has a scar next to his ear,” Jose said.

“And Jose is more obnoxious,” Diego said.

Jose smiled. “Very true.”

Zach and Carter seemed to accept all this. They ran out the back door together.

Jose and Diego turned back to Brock, who’d watched the proceedings with enjoyment.

“Hay?” Diego prompted.

Brock nodded and they went through the back door as well, shielding their eyes from the afternoon sunlight. Cassie looked up from the two young boys, who seemed to be in the middle of a long and hurried story, and Brock’s heart jumped at the sight of her. If she wasn’t just so damned beautiful...

Jose walked up to her, hand outstretched. “Hello. I’m Brock’s much more attractive and successful younger brother.”

Jose gave Brock a wink as he shook hands with Cassie. Normally, Brock would wink back, or at least roll his eyes at his brother’s antics, but this time was different, and the best he could do was try not to scowl at him. What did Jose think he was playing at? He was here to check out some hay, not the owner.

Diego walked up and gave Cassie a quick handshake before starting in on questions about the acreage of crops she had to sell. Brock always thought Diego was the smarter of the two.

Before Cassie could answer, Carter tugged on her shirt. “Momma! What about the splinters?”

Cassie leaned down to him. “If you couldn’t find the tweezers, they must still be in a box somewhere. Once I finish what I’m doing, I’ll go help you search, and then we’ll be able to get out all the splinters.”

“Do you have a bad one? I can get it out using a credit card,” Brock offered.

Cassie gave him a skeptical look. “You can get splinters out using a credit card?”

Brock smiled, carefully extricated his wallet from his back pocket and pulled out a credit card. “Sure. They didn’t teach you that in your big-city college?” he asked, glad to clear the air from their earlier heated moment.

“I must’ve missed that day,” she said. “Carter, do you want to show Brock your splinter?”

Brock took the young boy’s hand in his, stretching the skin around the splinter. In a few moments, he had used the corner of the card to push the splinter out.

“Cool!” Carter exclaimed, his eyes wide.

Brock looked up to Cassie, who nodded in agreement. “That was pretty cool. I’ll need to remember that trick.”

Diego cleared his throat, bringing Brock out of the moment. “I’ll keep an eye on the boys. You three go talk business,” he said.

Soon, Cassie was walking with Jose and Diego out into the fields and Brock was directing the boys on the final additions to the lumber pile while he stretched his back. If he could loosen it up some, he and Cassie would be able to get her doctor’s office all ready before he needed to leave for the evening. Amy had flown in that morning and, with Jose and Diego now in town, he’d be expected at the family dinner Ma had mentioned.

Brock reached toward his toes as far as he could until the scream of pain quieted. When he straightened, his eyes sought out Cassie and his brothers, who had moved a good distance away, and he could only see the backs of their heads as they talked and gestured. He tried not to imagine Cassie laughing at Jose’s jokes, smiling back at him when he gave her his patented thousand-watt grin.

Brock kept stretching, getting more and more annoyed at the efforts he was sure Jose was putting into seducing Cassie. Luckily, they were back before Brock’s imagination could run away with him too much, and Jose and Diego shook Cassie’s hand once more. Jose said, “It was so nice to meet you, Cass. Everything will be baled and out of your hair by the end of next week. And please think about the dinner invitation, okay?”

Cassie nodded and smiled back, but before she could say anything more to Jose, Brock broke in. “I’ll see you two out.”

With that he stomped toward the side of the house, knowing the two would need to follow before Jose could say anything else. In a flash and despite the still-prominent ache in his back, he had made his way through a broken section of fence and around the side of the house, until he could see his brothers’ truck waiting beside his in the driveway.

“Whoa, what’s the rush?” Jose asked as Brock ushered them toward the vehicle.

Brock thought he might hit his brother, but Diego got there first, smacking Jose on the back of the head. “You’re lucky Brock’s not killing you right now,” he said.

“What? Why?” Jose asked, rubbing the back of his head.

“Cass? Dinner? What’s with the smooth talk, Jose?” Brock said, folding his arms in front of him.

“I was just being polite,” Jose said in his defense.

“You were being fresh,” Brock shot back.

Diego jumped in. “Brock, nobody says ‘fresh.’ Stop acting like an old man. Jose, brothers don’t go after the same girls. Brock was here first, and if he has a thing going with Cassie—”

“I don’t have a thing with her,” denied Brock. “It’s just that...” He searched for an explanation that didn’t involve the story of how she’d shot him down when he asked her out. “She’s our parents’ new neighbor, and a very nice widow, and she doesn’t need to fend off your flirtations.”

Diego raised an eyebrow. “Nothing’s going on with you two? Seriously?”

Brock wasn’t sure what to say to that. “We’re friends” sounded like a lie, but what else were they? If he was being honest with himself, he had no answer. No answer he liked, anyway.

The silence lengthened between them until Jose burst out, “Fine, I will no longer be, um, polite to Cass. I mean, Mrs. Stanford,” he added after seeing the look on Brock’s face.

Brock nodded and walked them the last few steps to their truck.

“In my defense, though,” Jose continued, “I wasn’t asking her out to dinner. I was inviting her to dinner at home. Ma told me to. So don’t worry so much about me getting too fresh, Grandpa.”

With that and another big smile, Jose hopped into the passenger side of the truck. Diego shook his head. “I’ll keep him under control. See you in a few hours?”

Brock nodded and Diego got into the driver’s seat and started the engine. Brock turned around, feeling equal parts annoyed and ashamed.

He had jumped down his brother’s throat for flirting with Cassie. If they were just going to be friends, why should he get to say who flirted with her? Brock knew that wasn’t fair to her, or to Jose, or to any guy who liked her. If she didn’t want to date because of her husband’s memory, that was fine, but he should leave that decision to her. She could decide to go out with anybody she liked.

Still, the thought of Cassie with someone else bothered him more than he wanted to admit.

Brock ran his fingers through his hair. If he could survive another ten days around her, it wouldn’t matter, anyway. He’d go back to his regular life and that would be it for this whole thing.

Brock sighed and went back to where Cassie was standing, the pile of boards back to the state it had been before it tumbled. The boys were nowhere to be seen.

Her eyes lit up when she saw him in a way he was sure Jose would never experience, and in that moment of triumph, he threw caution to the wind and kissed her again, hoping that this time...

Any thought after that disappeared as her body and lips met his, sending bursts of electricity flowing through his veins. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close, though she needed no urging.

Then she pulled away, and in a flash his arms were empty and she was standing beside the dilapidated fence, not looking at him and shaking her head.

Brock laughed ruefully. “If that kiss did anything near to you what it did to me, then your husband must’ve been some amazing guy for you to be so loyal to him.”

It was Cassie’s turn to laugh, though hers was bitter and hinted at struggles beyond her young years. “Hank? If he’d survived the car crash, we would be divorced and I would probably still be kissing you right now. He was...not a very good husband.”

Brock was confused. Everything he’d heard about the man painted him as a saint. Cassie seemed to know what he was thinking. “I don’t want the boys to know the darker sides of their father. For now at least, they should think of him as a heroic police officer.”

“Instead of...” Brock prompted.

He could see the pain in her eyes, and thought she might want to share the story. When she didn’t speak at first, though, he opened his mouth to change the subject. Before he could say anything she began speaking, all in a rush, as if the words had been walled up and the dam had just burst.

“Hank was a cop back in Minneapolis. I got pregnant when we had only been dating for a few months, and we got married. Things started to fall apart even before the boys were born, and we had a lot of arguments about me going back to school to finish getting my MD. Still, I tried to stick it out.”

Brock watched her intently. Cassie took a deep breath and continued. “He was gone a lot—working extra shifts, he said—which meant we didn’t see much of each other those last couple of years. It was probably the reason we stayed together as long as we did. But—”

She paused. Brock wasn’t sure she was going to continue. When she spoke again, her voice was quiet.

“But I had no idea what was really going on. It was only after the accident that I found out. He got in a car crash in the middle of the night. He’d crashed into a pole. He died...”

She grimaced, either in hurt or disgust, Brock wasn’t sure. “The woman in the passenger seat survived.”

Brock moved forward and stood beside her, aching with the betrayal she must have felt. “She was—”

“His girlfriend,” Cassie said, the calmness of her voice belied by the sparkle of a tear in her eye. “One of many, it turned out.”

Brock wasn’t sure what to say, but before he could find words, Cassie continued, “And they found drugs in the car, too. I had been so busy with the twins and finishing my residency that I had no idea any of this was going on. I felt so stupid.”

Cassie covered her face with her hands and fell silent for a moment. Brock wanted to hug her, but held himself back, only looping a single arm around her back as a show of support. She dropped her hands back to her side and forced herself to continue.

“The rumors about Hank were everywhere. He was a cop, after all. A ‘pillar of the community’ sort of thing. Every person we talked to would look at us with pity, and I hated it. I didn’t want the scandal of it to ruin the boys’ memories of their dad. So I packed them up and moved them across the country to keep them safe and happy. Sometimes I’m not so sure it was a great idea, but here we are,” she said, standing and looking out the barn toward the ranch house.

“Anyway, that’s why nothing can happen between us. I’m not loyal to Hank’s memory. I’m loyal to Zach and Carter and the memories of their father that they hold so dear. They’ve been through so much, and we’re finally getting into a good place. I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize that. That means no dating, no kissing, no flings, regardless of the man.”

Brock could see in her face and hear in her voice how much she desired him, and if it didn’t give him what he really wanted, at least it soothed the feeling of rejection. Before he could do more than nod, the twins came running up to their mom, chattering excitedly about their adventures searching for the tool chest.

Cassie looked up at Brock, none of the emotions she had experienced so recently showing on her face. “I sent Zach and Carter to find the toolbox so we can work on the office, unless you need to get home and be with your family?” she asked.

She was giving him an out, a chance to slink away without discussing all that had happened in the past few minutes. He knew she would understand if he walked away now and never came back. “I’ve got enough time to help. And if we have that out of the way, we can get started on the paddock tomorrow.”

Cassie’s smile transmitted her relief without the need for words, and Brock walked with her and the boys into the house. He wished there was something he could do to convince her that she deserved to be happy as much as her children did.

But if he couldn’t do that, at least he could respect her wishes and do whatever possible to make her life a little easier. If anyone deserved a helping hand, it was Cassie.

* * *

AN HOUR AND a half later, Cassie watched from her doorway as Brock walked to his parents’ house. She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed that they’d never had a chance to speak privately after her confession by the fence. The boys had been so eager to help as they hung her diplomas and organized the furniture, there was no opportunity for her and Brock to be alone.

So Cassie couldn’t help but wonder what he thought about everything she’d said. It was clear Brock was still willing to help her, but that was all she knew.

Once he was out of sight, Cassie walked into the kitchen and took a long drink of cold water. She had just put the glass down and started to consider what to do with the rest of the afternoon when her phone buzzed. She glanced at it to find a message from Brock: Ma wanted me to make sure you were coming to dinner. Will you be coming? She wants you here by 6.

Dinner with the McNeals. An entire night of unsatisfied lust for Brock and fending off Jose’s flirtations didn’t sound all that appealing, but she couldn’t find it in her to say no. Mrs. McNeal was so nice, after all, and she didn’t want to disappoint the old woman.

Cassie knew it was a lie to say she was going for any reason besides Brock. She might not be able to have him, but she still couldn’t stop herself from spending what time around him she could. Even when she engineered ways to stay away from him, she still managed to sabotage them.

She cut off the internal monologue and texted back. We’ll be there.

Once the decision was made, Cassie went to tell Zach and Carter. Then they needed to decide what to bring their hosts, and she would need to go through the long process of agonizing over what to wear so it wasn’t flirtatious, yet attractive enough that the little voice inside her still hoping for some impossible romance didn’t shout too loudly.

A quick trip to the bakery solved one of her problems, and an hour in front of the mirror solved the other, and by that time it was nearly six o’clock and she had to hustle Zach and Carter out the door.

Cassie watched her boys run ahead of her through the late-afternoon sunshine toward the McNeal home. The lights shone through the windows, creating an inviting scene, but it did nothing to ease Cassie’s nerves. She told herself that she was just nervous because she was planning to spend the evening with a bunch of people she hardly knew, not because of anything to do with Brock McNeal.

She didn’t believe it, but it was better than admitting the alternative: that her feelings toward Brock were getting more confusing all the time. She couldn’t forget the way her body reacted to his kisses, or the way her heart melted at his smile.

All Cassie wanted to do was get her ranch finished and keep her heart unscathed, and instead she was planning to spend an entire evening in Brock’s presence under the eyes of his whole family, who also happened to be her neighbors in her new hometown. She really had a knack for creating the perfect recipe for disaster.

Zach and Carter hopped onto the porch, then waited for their mother to catch up. For one crazy second, Cassie considered calling them back to her and turning around. They could just go home and send their apologies.

The door opened and Mrs. McNeal, an older woman with a head of white curls and a wide smile, greeted the two boys. “Come in! My, but it’s good to see young boys in my home again. If I’m not mistaken, you’ve grown taller since you moved here. ’Fore I know it, you’ll be as tall as my boy Brock.”

Cassie walked up the porch steps and saw the look of astonishment on the boys’ faces. “I’m going to be that tall?” Carter asked with wide eyes.

Mrs. McNeal nodded confidently. “Taller, if I’m not mistaken. And I’m never mistaken. Now come in off the porch, you three.”

“Thank you for inviting us, Mrs. McNeal,” Cassie said as she entered the large, well-kept ranch home.

Brock’s mother waved her hands as if getting rid of a bad smell. “Sarah, if you please. We’re neighbors, after all. We don’t put on any airs here, Cassie.”

Before Cassie could reply, Sarah had her arms wrapped around the boys and was leading them through the house. “You two will call me Nana Sarah, won’t you? My children haven’t given me any grandbabies to spoil yet, so I’ll need to spoil you instead.”

Cassie followed Sarah and the boys, trying to gird herself for the jolt of electricity she felt every time she saw Brock. Even so, there was no way she could have been prepared for the wash of emotions she felt when she walked into the kitchen, where Brock stood with his arm around the waist of a beautiful, tall blonde woman.

Cassie couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Did Brock have a girlfriend he’d never told her about? The pain she’d felt when she discovered the truth about her husband came washing back over her, taking her breath away. Was Brock taken and simply trying to have some extra fun on the side with her? Cassie’s heart ached at the thought.

Brock turned toward her, giving her a smile that cut right through her. It hurt to realize that she wasn’t as special to him as she’d believed, that he was another cheating man like Hank. She considered running out the door right then and there, but she stopped herself. She wouldn’t let another man embarrass her like that.