“You know what? Fuck you, Brock. I shared something deep with you. And I thought… Christ, what was I thinking? You’d make a shitty father, Brock Steel, and I don’t want your damned kid.” She slides her socks on her feet and then her shoes. “Where the hell is my bra?” She darts her gaze around the room.

I spy it, on top of my dresser. After I got it off her, I threw it. I didn’t realize I’d thrown it so far.

I grab it, take it to her. She rips it from my grasp and puts it on.

“I’ll help you with that,” I say as she struggles to snap it.

“Thanks, but no thanks.” She finally gets it snapped and then grabs her shirt and dons it quickly. “I’m out of here.” She stomps out of the room.

God. I’m a jerk. An absolute jerk.

Here’s a woman—a beautiful woman who comforted me—and what am I offering her in return? Accusations and anger.

“Rory…” I follow her out, still naked.

She’s at the door, petting Sammy. “Bye, baby girl. I’m not sure when I’ll see you again.”

“Rory, come on.”

“Goodbye, Brock. Have a nice life.”

She walks out the door, slamming it behind her.

Go after her. Damn it, Brock, go after her. I run back to my bedroom, slide my jeans on quickly, and nearly stumble getting back to the door.

Rory is already gone.

Chapter Forty-One

Rory

I’m halfway home when the tears come.

It’s a little after nine o’clock, and of course the pharmacy in Snow Creek isn’t open on Sundays anyway. I could drive to a twenty-four-hour pharmacy in Grand Junction for a morning-after pill, but I know I won’t.

If I’m pregnant, I will keep this baby. Brock doesn’t have to be involved.

And it’s just as likely that I’m not pregnant.

Okay, that’s not exactly true. I know I’m ovulating, so there’s a chance I’ll conceive. Some couples try for years, track ovulation schedules diligently, and still don’t conceive. No reason at all to worry.

Except that of course I’ll worry.

I shake my head. Was it only forty-eight hours ago that this was what I wanted? I actually asked him to father my child?

I’ve gone completely insane.

I don’t want to go home. It’s Sunday evening, and I have a lesson at ten in the morning.

Ten a.m. isn’t eight a.m. Going for a quick drink won’t hurt.

I change my route and head to Murphy’s.

Then I change my route again.

The bar isn’t open on Sundays. And if I am pregnant? I can’t drink anyway.

Damn.

Damn, damn, damn.

Now what?

No way am I going back to Brock’s.

I don’t want to go home. Callie’s probably out with Donny, and Jesse is probably out with the guys.

I sure as heck don’t want to talk to my mother and father.

What if I truly am pregnant?

Will Brock want me to…

I can’t even go there. Absolutely not. My body, my choice, and if I’m pregnant, I will have this baby.

I have nowhere else to go. I have to go home.

It’s getting late, so I’m surprised to see Jesse and the band in the garage.

“Mom was letting you practice this late?” I say.

“Believe it or not, she was, but we’re packing up now.” Jesse closes his guitar case.

Right. Jesse and the band have a gig coming up.

A gig without me. Except it doesn’t have to be without me.

I’d like to get away. Even if it is just a road trip to dive bars on the western slope.

“I changed my mind,” I say. “I’m totally in for the tour.”

“It’s a little late for that, Ror. We’ve already got the program all set up without you.”

“So? I know your repertoire.”

“It’s too late. Besides, you have your lessons.”

“The world is not going to stop if Janae Jefferson doesn’t get her next piano lesson.”

Jesse wrinkles his forehead. “This doesn’t sound like you. You love those kids.”

I don’t bother replying to my brother. Instead, I look over him to Dragon Locke, who’s staring straight at me with smoldering hazel eyes, his long black hair unbound and hugging his shoulders, and his lips…full and luscious.

And you know what? I’m up for it.

“You’re right,” I tell my brother. “And I understand.”

Then I sidle up to Dragon. I have no idea what I look like. Do I look pregnant? Do I look like I just got fucked? Most definitely the latter, maybe the former. I have no idea. I didn’t even look at myself in the rearview mirror on the drive back here.

“Rory,” Dragon says in his deep voice.

“Feel like getting out of here?”

“Sure.”

“We’re all having a beer, sis,” Jesse says. “Out on the deck. I started the fire pit.”

Okay, I wasn’t thinking of my brother, cousin, and Jake Michaels coming along for the ride, but it’ll have to do.

“That sounds great,” I force myself to say with a fake smile plastered on my face.

I duck out. I don’t dare go to my bedroom, or even to the bathroom. I don’t want to know what I look like.

Tags: Helen Hardt Steel Brothers Saga Erotic
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