“Erika and I aren’t done.”
Mark sprung from his chair, showing his first real hint of anger. “You can’t run back to her because you don’t want another man to have her. You don’t know how to treat her. Get the hell out of her life and stop hurting her. Can’t you see what you’re doing?”
“Don’t talk to me about my wife like you know her better than I do.”
“Don’t you be so cavalier, you arrogant son of a bitch,” Mark shouted. “I’m building something with Erika because I care about her. You run up in my office threatening me like a pitbull fighting for a piece of meat. Erika is more than that. Erika is everything. But she’s not a prize in some contest you’re trying to win. Not once have you mentioned being in love with her.” His eyes narrowed and he pounded his fists on the desktop. “You stay the hell away from her, or I’ll hurt you. Believe that.”
Brock didn’t walk away because Mark scared him. He left Mark’s office without another word because he hadn’t realized another man was in love with his wife, and it shocked him. A crush, maybe some casual dating, okay, but he hadn’t suspected Mark loved Erika. Erika might not know it, hell, Mark may not know it, but Brock saw it written all over the man’s face.
Brock learned something else during his visit. Mark’s vicious response went beyond his threat or his shouting. Brock was a man and he knew men. And he knew his wife. Erika wouldn’t be involved with such a volatile man…Mark hadn’t showed her this side of himself.
Erika is everything.
“Everything,” Brock repeated, knowing it to be true. He gripped the steering wheel, driving a little too fast to the house he’d once shared with Erika. He knew what he had to do, and no matter what the consequences, he would.
He didn’t use his key. He parked his Lincoln in the garage next to Erika’s car, testing the temperature of the hood. She hadn’t driven for a while—the engine was cool. He rang the doorbell, praying his mother would be asleep at ten at night.
“Brock?” Erika was dressed for bed, with the robe he’d given her two anniversaries ago cinched at her waist and her hair wrapped tight beneath a scarf.
“I need to talk to you.”
“Now?” She looked up at him and saw something that didn’t make her wait for an answer before opening the door to him.
They walked through the foyer into the great room, but it was open to upstairs where his mother slept in one of the three upper-level bedrooms.
“Can we go somewhere more private?”
She eyed him strangely but led him into their bedroom. She took a seat in the sitting area. He stood over her, too nervous to sit down.
“What’s going on, Brock?” she asked just as her cell phone rang.
“Don’t answer it.”
“It could be important. I’m on call.”
“It’s not about a patient.”
“How do you know?”
“It’s Mark Garing.” He knew it was Mark, because if he’d been Mark, he would have called and warned her about her crazy husband barging into his office this afternoon.
Her face dropped with guilt.
“I went to his office today.”
She ignored his directive and crossed the room to answer her phone. She held an uneasy, cryptic conversation. After assuring Mark she was fine, she rushed him off the phone, promising to call later. If there was any way he could stop her, she’d never make that call.
“He’s a friend,” Erika said.
“I know what he is. Are you in love with him?”
“With Mark? No.”
“Tell me the truth.”
“I don’t lie to you.”
He squared his shoulders, ready to do what he’d come for. “Do you love me?”
Her face contorted in confusion. “Is this because I asked for a divorce?”
“Do you love me, Erika?”
“You have no right to question me. You left me.”
“Do you want a divorce? Even if I don’t?”
She looked beaten and weary. “What’s going on with you? I know something is wrong. You wouldn’t have just up and left without a reason. Talk to me.”
“I don’t want a divorce,” he admitted.
“You’ve said that before. You haven’t told me what you do want.”
He wanted her. God, he wanted her more than anything. His entire reason for coming was selfish, but he loved her too much to care about his motives. He’d come for two reasons: to keep her from divorcing him, and to make sure she’d never leave him.
“I love you. I just can’t be with you now.”
“What are you talking about?” Anger made her nostrils flare. “Why did you come here tonight? Did you do something to Mark?”
He cursed, hating her concern for another man.
“No divorce,” he ground out.
She turned the curse word on him. “You’re making me crazy! You know what? I don’t care what you want anymore.” She charged to her dresser, yanking the drawer open so hard it fell off track and hit the floor. She dropped to her knees, fury fueling her as she tossed the contents around the room. She snatched up the glossy black packet and rushed at him with it. “You’re going to sign these papers right now! No more of this, Brock. I’m tired. I’m tired of trying to figure you out. I’m tried of worrying about what you want.” Her shouts became a choking sob. “I’m tired of trying to love you.”
He grabbed her up in a bear hug, his size no match for her struggles. He held her tight, letting her strike him until she exhausted herself. When she was done, and had melted into a limp mass, he picked her up and carried her to the bed. He wiped her tears away, kissing her gently as he removed the scarf from her head and combed out her locks with his fingers. He peeled open the robe and stripped her of her gown, slowly, patiently, watching the confusion and love intermingle in her expression.
“You’re tired of trying to love me?” He wiped away her tears. “Just love me tonight.” His lips went to her neck and she pulled his belt from the loops of his pants, her tears forgotten. “We’ll figure out the rest tomorrow,” he told her. Tonight, he wanted to make love to her as a whole man, because in two days, he wouldn’t be.
She was seven months’ wet for him, and he was seven months’ hard for her. He ran his fingers through the soft curls between her thighs, promising he’d taste her later. She pulled him on top of her, going for his mouth with unbridled desperation. He kissed her hard and deep while he grasped his raging erection and slipped it inside the tightness of her vagina. He worked her good, slow and thorough…trying to make a baby.
He was so out of his mind with love for her, he wanted it all, and he wanted it now. She couldn’t be inseminated at a clinic. He needed her to get pregnant with his child this way—while he was loving her. A baby would take a complicated situation and make it more complex, but he wasn’t thinking straight. He needed to love Erika and know she needed to love him. He needed to know she wanted him to be the father of her children. He had to know she loved him that much.
“We’re going to make a baby,” he told her, working his hips in tight circles.
Her passion dissipated enough for her to come to her senses. “Use a condom. I’m not taking the Depo shots anymore.”
He didn’t have a condom, and he didn’t want one. “Forget the condoms.”