Chapter 10

Brock

"I need to get back to work." I watched Jamie misunderstand everything I said, and why wouldn't she? "Got it."

No, I wanted to shout, crossing the floor and slamming the door shut before she could slip out of it. No, I'd say again and again, as I pulled her right back into my arms.

Where she belonged.

I knew it'd feel good when I held her for the first time, but fuck… I hadn't expected it to feel so damn right. Like she was made for me, just as I was her, our bodies slotting together like two puzzle pieces, locking tight, never to be separated again. Instead, I was forced to watch her labour under the assumption that this wasn't real, that I didn't have the ghost of her body against my chest even now.

I strode over to my desk, jerking the chair out and then slamming my butt down, my hands forming a steeple as I stared at my laptop. There was tax stuff that needed to be done, bills to be paid, and a million other pieces of administrivia that demanded my attention. I could give it none. The same question that had me up half the night, rolling around in my bed, punching my pillow, trying to get some sleep, hit me now.

When was I going to tell Jamie how I really felt?

This wasn't fake for me. Millie knew exactly what she was doing by suggesting this, giving me a legitimate place to pull a whole lot of feelings I kept hidden for far too long, but she didn't know. This was like letting the blood flow back into a leg that had been sitting in the same position for hours. It stung so much my teeth locked tight to stifle back a moan of pain, yet I wasn't moving, trying to increase the blood flow.

Which had me thinking.

Under the guise of acting as the perfect pretend boyfriend, there was no reason I couldn't use this as an opportunity to show Jamie how good this would be. Working together, laughing together, being together… My hand ground down on my cock that throbbed sulkily in my jeans since the moment she walked in the door. Yeah, that. I needed to prove to her that I could be a good man, her man. That's what had my fingers moving across the keyboard, bringing up a menu from a local cafe.

I'd gotten her lunch from there on her birthday, and she seemed to really like it. I scanned the menu, ordering this thing and that, not totally sure what she'd like, but that was OK. Rather than embarrass her, I'd get enough food for everyone. Sending the order off, I found I could finally take in a full breath. I had a chance. A slim one, but I'd take it, because it was more than I had before. With that sorted, I was able to focus on the pile of work waiting for me.

I didn't need an alarm to tell me when the food was arriving. Some internal clock dragged me away from what I was doing ten minutes before the delivery driver was due to arrive. I pushed myself away from the computer and ran downstairs, walking past the workshop, only pausing for a second to stare at Jamie bent over an engine bay, then opening the break room door.

To find a fucking pigsty.

Being a mechanic was a dirty business, but that didn't mean we needed to live that way.

"Clinton!" I shouted, the bloke's head hitting the bonnet of the car he was working on before he winced and then ambled over. "What the fuck is this?"

"Ah… a sink full of dishes?"

"A sink full of…" I waved a hand in front of my face. "Dishes that have been sitting there for days if not weeks. A table covered in crumbs and smears of tomato sauce. A bin full of rubbish. What did I say after the last time we had to have the pest inspectors come through?"

"Clean up after ourselves," he said with a sigh. "Oi, Ken!"

The other man walked over, glad for the distraction, and while Clinton did the dishes and Ken took the rubbish away, I cleaned off the table then gave the floor a sweep.

"Anything special happening today, boss?" Clinton asked with a sly smile. "Or are we just making sure Mouse has somewhere nice to eat at break time?"

"I'm putting on lunch," I said, the muffled sound of strange voices indicating the food had arrived. "And it looks like it's here."

I directed the delivery drivers to the break room, the foil containers letting out a savoury aroma that had both Jamie and Gary looking up as they passed. That vicious sense of satisfaction punched me in the guts, leaving me gasping but happy as everyone clustered around the table.

All I wanted to do was provide for Jamie. She was a damn good mechanic who seemed perfectly capable of looking after herself, but I… I hoped to take some of that burden from her. Feed her good food, massage the knots from her muscles that sometimes had her stretching her neck from side to side. Help her wash the grime of the day off her and then tuck her up in bed.

With me by her side.

I'd hold her in my arms and go to sleep, breathing in the scent of her hair as I heard her sighs grow longer and longer, finally able to relax because she was mine.

So I looked up now as Jamie walked in the door, feeling something fierce and fragile flickering inside my chest. I wanted to thump it then, point to everything I'd bought for her, but I couldn't.

"So what's the special occasion?" Gary asked, rubbing his hands together. "The dishes done as well?"

His wife refused to make him lunch every day because she worked full time as well, and he often bemoaned this as he looked at the peanut butter sandwich he'd slapped together that morning.

"Oh, I think we know why." Clinton flicked the soap suds from his hands, wiping them on a thankfully clean tea towel before propping his arse on the sink. "I, for one, support this new relationship dynamic. Free feeds and the boss losing the resting bitch face." I cocked an eyebrow and stared him down. "I can get behind that, but Mouse, how about suggesting some Thai food next time? There's a great little place a couple of suburbs over?—"

"Or that pasta place," Ken said, his eyes getting wider and wider as he saw the spread. "Some ravioli and spag bol."

"That garlic bread." Gary kissed his fingers. "Though a big feed of seafood?—"

"All good suggestions," Clinton said. "Mouse, we'll shoot you a selection of menus. If you could subtly slide them the boss' way, maybe post-coital and ready to promise you anything in the world. I'll do those really shitty oil changes for you if you can get us seafood."

The ribbing was all par for the course here. A garage full of blokes would always have a whole lot to say about each other, but that's when I realised I'd made a fatal mistake. They called Jamie Mouse for a reason. When riled up she'd push back, hard if she needed to. She'd torn strips off Dale when he was trying to make moves on her, the entire garage going quiet as she was clear just how much he'd underestimated her. But as a rule, she kept her head down, hoping to convince everyone she deserved to be here with her competence.

And I'd just made her the centre of attention.

"I…" She felt the need to say something, but I watched her throat work, a small frown forming as she fought her body to get the words out.

"Looks like you've rendered her speechless," Clinton cackled. "Good job, Brock. Now you know what to do if she starts nagging."

"Clinton…" Gary hissed.

But the damage was done. She backed away, her face too pale, none of the pleasure I hoped to see in her expression. Instead, she just looked freaked out.

"Jamie…"

I'd come on too hard, too fast, and when I took a step forward to admit that, she kept on moving, away from me, not closer. She shook her head, mutely communicating what I already knew.

That I'd fucked up.

Of course, that was the moment Hayden came walking into the garage.

"Jamie?"

She spun around at the sound of her name.

"I need…" She swallowed hard, then looked back, her gaze feeling like a hot electrical wire, branding me. "I need to get out of here. Can you?—?"

Hayden shot me one short look, but it was filled with triumph.

"Of course. I came by to see if you wanted lunch…"

I didn't get to hear the rest of that because Hayden ushered her out the front door of the garage and out onto the street where his ute waited.

"I'm guessing that didn't go to plan." Gary had come to stand beside me, and I shot him a sharp look before watching my brother and my girl drive away, feeling like my heart was being crushed in their path. "Mouse… Jamie, she's a funny little thing. Skittish as a colt and just as spirited, but…" He stared into my eyes. "That's the way it works, mate. You've gotta work out what's got her spooked and then try and make clear you're gonna help her get past those fears. On her timeline."

He was my employee. I could've fired him on the spot for what he was saying, but he said it anyway, staring at me meaningfully. I didn't, nodding instead, because it was all true. This was a misstep, but I wouldn't make the same mistake again. Jamie hated an audience, so whatever happened, it needed to be away from prying eyes.

"Thanks, Gary," I said, slapping his shoulder before I walked back into the break room. I sat down and ate food I didn't taste, filled my belly until I was full, my mind whirring. I could make this right tonight and all the nights after that, until she was mine.