The Bachelor Auction(63)

“I was twelve.” He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “My parents were often away on business, so my dad always gave me a stuffed animal before he left, a different guard animal each time. I was always so stressed about the responsibility of taking care of my brothers that my dad said it was only fair I have someone to look after me, too, for me to lean on.”

Pain sliced through Jane’s chest. “What about your grandfather?”

“He’s so strong. Always has been.” Brock shrugged. “I felt weak telling my grandfather it scared me every time my parents were gone, that every time I waved good-bye I was afraid it would be the last.” His smile was sad. “My greatest fear eventually happened. I gave power to it, and it destroyed us all.”

“Bullshit.” The word escaped Jane’s mouth before she could stop it.

“Jane, you don’t understand. My dad gave me my dog before he broke the news that we were moving. I said some ugly things, horrible things. I told him no. I told him I wouldn’t do it. I threw the dog at him. Said I hated him.” Just repeating the words seemed difficult for him, like he was re-living the moments over again.

“I still call bullshit,” she said in a strong voice.

Brock’s eyes widened a bit.

To be honest she surprised herself a bit, too.

Hugging the dog closer, she shook her head. “That’s stupidity at its finest and you know that.” Her heart broke for the boy who had held this dog close then thrown it out of anger. Of course he was angry. The ranch had been one of his favorite places. She knew that now.

“Do I?”

“Yes.” She turned on her good leg and poked him in the chest. “Believe what you want, but accidents are just that: accidents. And I highly doubt your parents would want you sitting here mourning their loss rather than living your life.”

He blinked. “And what would your parents say?”

She gulped, her nostrils flaring. “I took over the family business. I’m pretty sure my dad would be proud.”

“And what about the sister situation?”

She broke eye contact. “We all have our weaknesses.”

“Is it bad, do you think,” he asked, pulling her into his arms, tilting her chin up, “that both our weaknesses just happen to be family?”

Jane slumped against him. “I had really good intentions. Good intentions that turned into this habitual need to make sure everyone around me was happy.”

“Everyone except you,” Brock pointed out. “Because I highly doubt you’re happy making toast for two bitchy sisters.”

She smirked. “They are bitches. But they’re my bitches.”

He chuckled softly. “Don’t be angry, but hearing you say that kind of turned me on.”

She swatted him with the dog and pulled away. “And you? Do you think your parents would be proud of the way you’ve allowed your grandfather to rule your life?”

“I think…” He paused. “They would be proud of the way I’ve kept the family together, and kept the twins out of federal prison, yes.”

“And your happiness?” She glanced over her shoulder. “What about that?”

“The thing about happiness is this.” He slid his arms around her and pulled her close. “Sometimes it’s in the place you least expect it, like in a house full of ghosts and with a girl who carries bleach in her purse.”

“How do you know I carry bleach in my purse?”

“You like things clean,” he said and smiled. A real smile. “Lucky guess.”

She tensed in his arms as she realized how well he already knew her, how he was inching himself into her life and making it nearly impossible for her to stop what was happening between them—not that she wanted to. But the very fact that he had so much power over her already was terrifying.

“Jane, I’m so damn sorry. I hope you know that. You’re…you’re perfect and I yelled, ruining the entire evening. Holding you in my arms feels so right that I don’t ever want to let go.” His lips found her ear. “I’m sorry I yelled. I was just taken back, but now that the scent of my father’s shirts has worn off, and the dog doesn’t look as threatening, I get it. They’re just things. Sometimes things catch you off guard, though. I was prepared for the pictures in the house—or at least I thought I was, even the blinds—but the dog? It just reminded me of that moment, a moment that I’ve always wished I could take back. A moment I’ve always blamed myself for.”

She burrowed her head into his neck and sighed. “Now I’m the one who’s sorry, I wish I could make the pain go away.”