“Has the cock always lived here?”
“Older than dirt, that cock.” Brock smirked. “My grandfather bought it to protect the hens, but it refused to stay in the henhouse. The damn thing used to strut around the ranch like he owned it. I honestly thought it would be dead by now, but apparently he’s as stubborn as Grandfather. You know how they say dogs resemble their owners? Clearly they’ve never met Diablo.”
“Diablo?” Jane asked. “You named the cock Diablo?”
“Satan sounded too tame and Beelzebub wasn’t quite strong enough, so Diablo it is. I figured if he had a name we could stop using the word ‘cock.’”
“You should make him a collar.”
“He’d be impossible to live with.” Brock’s smile was wide, and his dimples were wreaking havoc on her already weakened body. “Now, do you want cream and sugar in your coffee? Or black?”
“Black,” she rasped, reaching for the cup at the same time as Brock. Their fingers brushed, and she jerked back. “Sorry.”
“I’m not going to toss it in your face if that’s what you’re worried about.”
She went with it; better she let him assume she was still afraid he hated her than admit that she was so attracted to him she wasn’t sure how to breathe sometimes when he looked at her the way he was now. Like she existed, like she was important. “Sorry; old habits.”
He made a face and sipped some of his own coffee. “Do you want to…” He licked his full lips and ran his fingers through his long hair. “Shit.”
“Do I want to shit?” She giggled.
His face actually reddened a bit. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I know.”
“Someone’s feeling better.”
“Advil,” she lied. It was the company. Again, he didn’t need to know that.
“Yeah well, don’t put it past Bentley to try to sneak muscle relaxers into your food, or Molly.”
“Molly? You’re kidding.”
“Grandfather still claims the reason he went to the hospital was dehydration, not the drug; never mind that the drug causes dehydration.”
“Wait, wait, wait.” Jane held up her hand. “Your grandfather? The one pushing eighty-two? Was taking Molly?”
Brock shrugged. “He was at a rave. I’ve learned not to ask questions.”
“But he’s old.”
“Doesn’t stop him from doing whatever the hell he wants, believe me.” Brock stared down into his coffee as if lost in his thoughts.
Jane wasn’t sure what to say. Bringing up the auction seemed like a bad idea. She didn’t want a reminder that he was going to be with someone else, and that someone else wasn’t her. The last thing she wanted was for Brock to be thinking about it, too.
Because for a few brief moments today, she’d imagined what it would be like to share more kisses in the kitchen. She’d even get chased by Diablo every day if it meant she could be with someone like him.
She pushed the thought away, because that was all it was—a fleeting thought that could so easily turn into a dream, which meant that when it didn’t come true, it would hurt.
She shivered.
“Are you cold?” Brock quickly stood and walked over to the chair, grabbing a large blanket and tucking it around her body.
“You don’t have to stay, you know.” She kept her voice even. “I know you probably want to relax and…” She lifted a shoulder into the air, not finishing her thought.
“Diablo’s blocking the door,” Brock said. “And the twins are making dinner. Actually, Bentley’s eating the dinner Brant’s trying to make. The point is, I have all the time in the world.”
And he was spending it with her.
She chewed her bottom lip as his gaze lowered.
“Checkers?” she blurted.
Brock’s expression relaxed. “Sure. Just don’t get mad when I kick your ass.”
“Hmm. What do I get if I win?”
“Oh, she likes to gamble.” He flashed her a tempting smile that she felt all the way down to her toes. “If you win I’ll give you one favor. You can ask for anything but money.”
“I would never ask for money.” She said in a horrified voice.
Brock studied her with an intensity that had her nearly squirming in her own skin. “I know.”
She broke eye contact. “And if you win, I’ll give you a favor. Clearly you can’t ask for money because I don’t have any.”
“I would never take money from a woman anyway.”
“You’re making me want to bet money now.” She snorted.
“Don’t get your panties in a bunch.” He winked. “All right, let’s play.”
She nodded and rubbed her hands together. “Prepare to have your world rocked.”
Jane could have sworn she heard him whisper under his breath. “Too late.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
He’s going to lose,” Bentley announced, tossing more money into the pot. He and Brant had started betting once they heard that Brock and Jane were playing checkers, and now they were sitting on Jane’s bedroom floor being annoying as usual.