Chapter 27

Jamie

I hated this, hated that I'd brought Brock into this situation. Every time I thought I'd built the stress of being around my family up in my head, I'd see them again and remember.

If social media was to be believed, people were exploring their relationship with their gender identity more than I remembered doing when I was a kid. Some agreed with what they were designated at birth, others didn't, but me? I'd never felt like anything other than a girl. What else could I be, being smaller, weaker, quieter than my brothers? But in all that masculinity, my mother was my primary source on all that it was to be a woman, and none of it was appealing.

Keep your elbows tucked into your ribs as you eat, don't let your legs fall open, despite the muscle tension that it took to keep your knees together. Don't start eating before the men. God forbid that you demonstrate any sort of appetite. Oh yeah, and don't eat anything nice, yummy, rich, fatty, or fun. Men ate for pleasure, women ate to be thin.

I stabbed a fork into my bacon, not wanting this to be a fight. I was a woman grown. What I ate and how much was my business, surely, but in my family, I was the baby and the girl. Until I had a ring on my finger, I was their responsibility. As I crunched on a mouthful of bacon, I spiked a sausage, meaning to cut into it, but the meat skidded across the plate at the sudden pressure of my knife, a chunk flying off my plate and through the air.

"Jamie…!" Mum yelped.

Brock's hand shot out, snatching it from the air and then popping it into his mouth with a smile.

"Yum. Want some of my sausage?"

That smirk, even my parents would've picked up that innuendo, but he just sliced a piece off and held it out to me. I went to pull it off the end of the fork but he jerked it back, forcing me to lean in and accept the bite from the end of the fork. Conscious of everyone's eyes on me, I did just that, only to find my mother smiling smugly.

"You've got a solid business and you have the means to look after Jamie," Dad grumbled, "so what's stopping you from making an honest woman of her?"

"Dad…!" I hissed, shooting him a murderous look, but he just frowned right back.

"Frankie's the last of the boys to get married, so it's your turn next," Dad said, using the same nagging tone I got whenever I talked to the two of them. "You're not getting any younger. A man like Brock will want kids?—"

"Not unless Jamie wants them."

I was torn between wanting to fist bump Brock and head butt the both of them. Dad spoke right over me, but faced with input from another man, he was suddenly thoughtful.

"Jamie wants children." Mum's tone was one part conciliatory, one part strident. "All women do."

"Not all." What the hell was Brock saying? I glanced over at him, only to find him staring back. Oh. He hadn't said anything, but I had. I shrugged and looked down at my plate. "Some women can't and some don't want to."

"If they're selfish," she snapped. "Preoccupied with their own pleasures and thinking nothing of future generations. What about your father and I? We'd love grandkids."

"You have grandchildren," I told her flatly. "A whole tribe of them, and while I love my niblings?—"

"Nieces and nephews," she corrected.

"Nothing I've seen about the process has changed my mind. If anything, after watching what Amber and Frannie had to go through, it confirmed my decision."

"You can't ‘see' the bond between a mother and a child," Mum said with a sharp shake of her head. "It's a love like you've never experienced."

So she kept on saying, but nothing about her love for me made that seem like a good thing. Being around her was like trying to swim in the open ocean during a tempest. Waves relentlessly lapping at my head, the undertow tugging at my feet as I fought to keep my head above water, my muscles quickly tiring.

"Then she won't miss it if she never feels it." Brock's voice cut through the chatter in the entire cafe it felt. "It's not selfish to never have a child, just to have one and resent it your whole life."

For once Mum's many rules worked in my favour. Me, she could argue with until she was blue in the face, but a man and a guest? Brock had her mouth shutting, even if it formed a thin line of discontent.

"Eat up," Dad said, nodding to my plate. "Can't abide wasting food."

I shook my head and picked up my knife and fork, then went to work.

"Oh ho, that's a beauty!" My parents followed us out to the carpark, Dad was in a good mood because Brock had paid for breakfast, but that was nothing compared to when he saw the car. "That's an old HQ. I had one back in the day, not in mint condition like this though."

"Restored it all myself," Brock said, opening the driver's seat door then popping the bonnet, but when we went over to take a look in the engine bay, Mum grabbed my arm.

"You need to invite Brock to be your date to the engagement party," she told me in a low voice. "He seems good and solid. Just the kind of impression we want to make with Nadia's family."

Nadia, my brother's fiancé, was lovely, but I didn't realise her family was that intense about these things.

"We'll see."

She made a sound of irritation, then forged on.

"And you'll need to ask for some time off on Tuesday afternoon."

"What? No, I'm fully booked?—"

"Brock won't mind." Mum smiled up at me. "Nadia has very kindly invited us to come and look at wedding dresses with her and the women in her family."

"Something I am completely unqualified to give an opinion on," I said, "as you well know. Nadia's hardly likely to miss me. We barely know each other."

"And you're about to become family. I can ask Brock for you?"

Her threat was obvious. Brock was unlikely to say no to a direct request from Mum.

"No…" I started trying to shift my schedule around in my head but pushed that to one side when I realised it wasn't going to happen. "It's fine. I'll work something out, but only for an hour."

"An hour? That's barely time to try on one dress," she spluttered.

"Then save the highlights for me when I get there," I replied. "I won't be able to take any more time off than that. You guys say you want me to have a secure income? Well, I have one, I just need to keep my damn job. Now, I've gotta go."

"Well, give us a hug then."

How did she do this? Turn from overbearing to sweet in seconds. I frowned as I moved into her arms, feeling her give me a squeeze. "This Brock must be looking after you right. You look almost pretty today." She turned my face from one side to the other. "I think you've lost some weight."

I lost fifty kilos very rapidly as I stepped back from her.

"I'll see you later?—"

"Sunday afternoon," she corrected. "Steve is hosting a barbecue over at his place. Everyone will be there, so I expect to see you then."

Great.

I smiled tightly and then nodded, beating a hasty retreat back to Brock.

"Car show is next weekend, if you're still in town," he told Dad.

"The engagement party is next Saturday. Marge will have us fussing over everything until she shoos us boys away, wanting to do it herself."

My father was trying to be good, but I could tell Brock was twisting his arm.

"So bring your sons down as well. I have a shit hot driver who's going to take the HQ around the track. You lot could jump in as passengers if you like."

Dad grinned like a naughty child.

"Alright, you're on!"

"What shit hot driver?" I asked when we got into the car, trying to keep the jealousy out of my voice, but Brock just grinned as he looked over at me.

"Who do you think?"

I watched him turn the ignition with covetous eyes.

"You want me to drive my dad and brothers around a race track?"

"In a helmet, they'll have no idea who's driving." He stared at me, the engine idling. "I know you're very competent behind the wheel. Your parents obviously worry. Mine do about their baby girl, but maybe seeing the way you handle a tonne of steel at high speed might go some way to alleviating that?"

I didn't want to smile, but I did, the muscles twitching until I was grinning.

"If it means getting to drive this car, then I'm sold. So, does that mean I get to drive home now?"

"Save it for the racetrack, Speedy."

In some ways it was a let down, driving back to my place, but when I went to open my car door, Brock was there. Instead of stepping back and letting me out, he stayed where I was, forcing me to step into the shelter of his arms.

"I get it now, why you were willing to go through this," he said. "I've met some intense parents, and let's just say yours are up there, but…"

He edged closer and damn me if I didn't want just that. The need to curl against his chest, let him shelter me from everything burning inside me. He'd follow me up and into my bed and just hold me until I forgot all about my family and focussed on him.

But that wasn't fair.

Before, I thought we were on the same page, just horny and seeking relief. Now was different, and that knowledge stood between us.

"I just want you to know, you need me for anything? I'm here."

"Brock—"

"No strings attached. I was your boss first, then your friend. Take that as an order if you can't accept it for what it is."

"Asking me out on a date?" I asked.

"An offer of friendship."

He pulled me close as if to underscore his point, but as my arms went around him, he failed. I had hugged all the guys at work, but it didn't feel like this. His strength, the breadth of his chest, the heat of his body all registered far too clearly in my head, but it was more than that. I was holding him. Warm, strong, reliable, and in my corner, and for just a second, I closed my eyes, soaking that up.

But I had to pull away.

My muscles were locked tight, my heart beating way too fast as I was poised, ready to run again. It took real thought to keep me right here. I wanted to say something appreciative, nice, sexy, sweet, something, but instead I nodded stiffly.

"Thanks. I'll make sure to give you plenty of notice if you're required for fake-boyfriend duty, just in case you've got other plans."

"Jamie…"

He shook his head, and I just stared him down, daring him to say something, relieved when he didn't. Instead, he got back into the car and drove off, leaving me standing there by the side of the road. That wrench, that feeling in my chest of wanting to call him back? It set my teeth on edge and had me marching off towards my place.

"How'd it go?" Millie asked me down the phone line.

I'd called her as I started walking up the stairs.

"Ugh, the usual. Majorie was in fine form." When my mother was behaving, she was Mum, when she wasn't, I called her by her first name. "Thank god Brock is not my real boyfriend because between discussions about weddings and children, that'd be enough to have anyone turning tail and running."

"Not Brock," she assured me. "That guy? Nothing phases him. The twins found a tiger snake one day, came sprinting inside in hysterics. He just picked it up by the tail and flicked it over the fence. Dad was furious."

"Yeah, well, pretty sure my mother is more venomous. So what's happening tonight?"

"I work in a bar, bitch, so I'll be serving dickheads all night. You should come down."

"So I can watch you seduce unsuspecting backpacker guys from Europe as you regale them with tall tales about Australia?" I asked.

"Um, yeah, what else would we do?"

"You're on. I'll see you…"

My voice trailed away as I reached my front door. It wasn't my worn out welcome mat that greeted me, but him. Another bunch of irises crackled as he grabbed the stems tight and then got to his feet.

"Hey, I need to call you back," I told Millie. "I've got another one of your brothers on my doorstep."

I'd seen a lot of expressions on Hayden's face, but not this. Raw, naked pain, it clawed at me, demanding a response. Instead, I just stood there, staring.

"Can we talk?" he said.

I took in the flowers, his bare feet, the sand on his legs and then I nodded.

"You better come in."