Sky opened the door with wide eyes before he got the chance to knock. “Brock,” she muttered. “What are you doing here?” When he didn’t answer, she added, “Oh my God, is your mom okay?”
Despite the early hour, she looked just stunning. A black sleeveless dress fell to just above her knees, sweeping across her milky skin. The heels she wore made her long legs stretch on for miles. Brock ached to run his palms up and down those legs, to grip the hips hidden away beneath the sleek fabric of the dress. More than anything he wanted her arms around him, to nestle his face in her neck. He didn’t care what she was wearing, although the hint of a question tapped at the back of his mind about where she had gone dressed like this, and how come she was still wearing these clothes at six in the morning.
“Is she all right?” Sky asked.
Brock looked down at her face. “No.”
Sky winced, seeming to feel his pain. “Come in.”
“Were you going out or coming in?” he asked absently.
“A bit of both, but that doesn’t matter right now.”
“I can go...”
“No,” she said quickly. “Come in.”
She moved aside and Brock brushed past her. “It’s cancer,” he whispered. “She has stage three cancer. I don’t even know how bad that is.”
Sky gasped. “Oh my God. Brock.” Her hand found his and clenched it tight. “Does she need anything at all right now?”
“I don’t know. I’m going back there after I get Brianna. We have to tell my sister. This news is going to break her.”
Sky reached her free hand up to towards his face. Halfway there she paused, hesitating. It trembled slightly in the air, frozen between the two of them. Brock grasped it with his other hand, intertwining their fingers together. Pulling her towards him, he pressed a soft kiss on the top of her knuckles.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
“For what?”
“Everything. It’s good to know you’re here for me.”
Sky blinked hard. Her eyes were welling up. “Come sit down. Do you want anything? I can make you some breakfast.”
“No.”
Sky planted a hand on her hip. “Brock, come on. You seriously look like you’re about to fall over. Sit down. I’ll make you something to eat.”
Not ready to argue, Brock settled himself on her sofa. Sky disappeared down the stairs to the main floor kitchen, and he took the time alone to close his eyes and try to block it all out for a moment. That wasn’t possible. The image of his mother in the hospital bed kept coming into focus. Would it plague him for the rest of his days? Or would he soon have a memory worse than that to cart around? He stopped himself from entertaining that thought.
He must have dozed off for a few minutes, because when he opened his eyes again, Sky was sitting beside him, and a plate of eggs and bacon was in front of him on her center table. She coaxed him to eat, and when he finally did she picked up her coffee cup and had a few sips.
The morning sun’s rays were in full force, bursting through the window and illuminating Sky’s hair. She sat next to him, her legs curled under her, not saying anything until he finished his plate.
“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.
“No. Not really.” Brock reached forward to smooth a lock of hair behind her ear.
Sky nodded. She understood. That was one of the best things about being with Sky. Brock could be himself. She knew there were times he preferred not to talk, and most of the time, she accepted that it was just how he was. Brock was glad when she reached forward and looped her arms around his neck to pull him into a hug. She smelled different from how she usually did, kind of like the Steak and Ale Saloon, and maybe something else. Not that Brock minded. Not today. Today, nothing else mattered.
She turned her face slightly to press it into his neck. Slipping his hand under her chin, he tilted it up to look into her eyes. The way she gazed back at him with her bright blue eyes got him so close to telling her how he really felt about her. He didn’t, though. Now was not the time to do something so foolhardy when he knew he couldn’t tell her more. So he kept his mouth shut and let the moment pass.
Sky brushed her lips against his cheek, nuzzling into his neck. She wrapped her arms around him. Brock laced a hand through her hair and pulled her in for a soft kiss that seemed to light them both on fire. Nothing else mattered for that brief moment. Brock was grateful for the reprieve, and wanted more. He ran his hands from her shoulders down her arms and to her hips before moving down the length of her dress. The fabric’s hem grazed against his fingers and he pushed it up. Sky moaned then whimpered out, “We should talk,” but didn’t say more, and didn’t ask him to stop when he parted her legs and slid his hand up her inner thighs to find her throbbing, wet spot. That sound she made when he touched her like this, it was out of this world.
He hooked his fingers underneath her panties and slid them off. “Talk about what?” Sky groaned something he couldn’t understand as she ran her hand wildly through his hair. “Sorry, what?”