6. Brook
SIX
brOOK
A ll Brook wanted was to get home and strip away the weight of her adult headspace. The day had been long and challenging. While her job as a receptionist was usually pretty easy, today had been the complete opposite. Every so often, clients came along who were impossible to please, the type who expected the entire office to drop everything and show up at a property at a moment’s notice. Unfortunately, today, they had two of those clients, and to make matters worse, both wanted the same house. It was a disaster waiting to happen, but thankfully, it wasn’t her mess to clean up. The agents were the ones on the front line.
Still, the tension lingered, winding tight in her shoulders and causing her to have a headache as she drove through Shadowridge. She heaved a weary sigh, slowing as one of the town’s rare traffic lights shifted from yellow to red. Her mind wandered, replaying the day’s events, until the world jolted violently around her.
The loud crunch of metal filled her ears, sharp and shattering. Her head snapped forward, the seatbelt catching her just in time. For a moment, her vision blurred, her heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst out of her chest. She stared at the red light ahead, unwavering in its glow, before dropping her gaze to her trembling hands white-knuckling the wheel.
She was fine. She repeated it in her mind like a mantra. Everything was fine. The airbags hadn’t deployed. It wasn’t anything major—just a fender bender. But even as she tried to convince herself of that, she quivered against the seat, her stomach churning with unease.
The sharp slam of a car door behind her snapped her out of the daze.
Right. Get out. Make sure they’re okay. Exchange information. No big deal.
Moving took more energy than it should have. It felt like everything was going in slow motion. Her fingers fumbled with the seatbelt before she finally unbuckled it and pushed the driver’s side door open. As she stepped out, she clung to the car’s frame for balance, her legs unsteady beneath her. The cool air hit her flushed cheeks as she wobbled slightly, her ears ringing faintly from the impact. Nausea threatened as she tried to take some deep breaths.
A man stomped over from the red car behind her, his wrinkled polo straining against his round belly. As soon as he reached her, his hand shot out, jabbing a finger in her direction as his voice boomed through the stillness.
“You kidding me? You slammed your brakes out of nowhere!” he shouted so loud it made her jump.
Her pulse raced, and her stomach knotted tighter. She swallowed hard, struggling to find her voice. The adrenaline coursing through her veins made it hard to focus on anything other than the anger radiating from the red-faced man in front of her.
Brook blinked, trying to keep her tears at bay. It wasn’t as though anyone had been seriously hurt, but it was her first car accident, and the shock of it was overwhelming.
“It was a red light,” she explained, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to sound steady.
“Yeah, well, you stopped too fast!” he yelled, his voice echoing sharply as he threw his arms wide.
The man loomed over her, taller and wider, his flushed face glistening with sweat. His movements were erratic, his hands slicing through the air. Brook’s stomach clenched tighter as he took a step closer, his voice rising.
“Do you have any idea how much this mess is gonna cost me?” he demanded. “You weren’t even paying attention to what was around you!”
“I—” she tried to respond, but her throat closed up, the words catching before they could form. Her breath hitched, and the edges of her vision blurred as her ears filled with a faint ringing. A tear escaped, then another, tracing warm paths down her cheeks. Why was he so angry? Wasn’t this why you got insurance?
And then, cutting through the noise like a lifeline, came a deep, familiar voice.
“Hey!”
Brook’s head snapped toward the sound. Storm was climbing out of a sleek black truck parked on the curb, his dark eyes locked on the unfolding scene. The sight of him—tall, broad, and commanding—was exactly what she needed to be able calm down enough to finally take a full breath.
He marched over with purpose, his long strides eating up the distance in seconds. His jaw was tight, and his gaze was fixed on the man like a hawk zeroing in on its prey. His sheer presence was enough to make the man falter, taking half a step back as Storm loomed closer.
“What’s going on here?” Storm asked, his voice low and calm yet carrying an unmistakable edge of authority. He didn’t shout, didn’t need to. His tone alone demanded attention. His dark eyes swept over Brook for a split second, softening slightly when they landed on her tear-streaked face before hardening again as they locked onto the irate man.
“Back the fuck away from her. Now.”
The man froze, his mouth opening as though to protest, but no sound came out. Storm’s glare and imposing stance were enough to silence whatever argument was on the tip of his tongue.
Scowling, the man’s face darkened like a brewing storm as he stepped back, huffing and puffing in frustration, his chest rising and falling with exaggerated indignation. He looked ready to blow someone’s house down, his irritation almost comical if the situation weren’t so tense.
“This lady can’t drive! That’s what’s going on!” he snapped, his voice laced with bitterness, though under Storm’s unrelenting glare, it lacked the bluster and bravado it had moments earlier.
Brook stood frozen, her heart hammering against her ribs. She didn’t trust herself to speak; her throat felt too tight, and she was sure her voice would crack if she tried. She didn’t move, didn’t trust her shaky legs to keep her standing with all the anger flying around. Confrontation was scary at the best of times, and this wasn’t the best of times.
Storm’s sharp gaze softened the instant it shifted to her. “You okay, sunshine?” he asked gently, ignoring the man entirely as though he were nothing more than background noise.
She nodded quickly, then shook her head, her emotions tangling in a whirlwind. “I—I think so,” she stammered, her voice trembling. “He hit me when I stopped for the red light.”
Storm’s jaw tightened, the muscle twitching as anger simmered just beneath the surface. He turned his attention back to the man, his expression hard and unyielding. “So, you rear-ended her, which makes it your fault, asshole.” Each of his words were clipped and deliberate.
The man’s mouth opened, but whatever excuse or retort he had prepared withered. “Whatever,” he muttered finally, waving a dismissive hand as he turned toward his car. “Let’s just exchange insurance details and get this over with.”
Storm didn’t move until the man had stalked off, chundering under his breath. Only then did he step closer to Brook, his towering frame offering a protective shield. His eyes softened again as he took in her trembling hands, the faint sheen of tears still lingering in her eyes. “You sure you’re okay, baby?” he asked, barely above a murmur.
Brook glanced down at her hands, realizing for the first time how much she was shaking. When he gently wrapped his much larger hands around hers, the warmth of his touch steadied her, if only slightly. “I’m fine,” she whispered, but the wavering in her voice betrayed her.
Storm frowned, his dark eyes scanning her face as if searching for a lie. “Come on,” he said quietly, tilting his head toward his truck. “I’ll take you back to my place. You don’t look like you should be driving right now.”
“What about my car?” she asked, her voice small. There was some damage to the back of the car, and Brook didn’t want to leave it out in the open where someone else could hit it.
“I’ll pull it into that parking lot over there and have a couple of the guys come pick it up,” he assured her, in a composed but firm tone. “Don’t worry about it, Little one. I’ll handle all of this. Let’s just get you in my truck where it’s warm and you can sit down.”
Too drained to argue, she let him guide her to the passenger seat. Before she knew it, he was leaning over her, buckling her in with smooth, practiced motions. His presence was like a blanket of calm, the faint scent of leather and soap grounding her as he got her situated.
“Wait here,” he commanded gently. “All your insurance stuff is in the glove box?”
She nodded, and he closed the door softly, leaving her alone to watch as he approached the other driver, who was waiting by the side of the road, clutching his paperwork. Storm’s posture was confident, his movements precise, and even from a distance, she could see how he handled the situation with a cool, unshakable authority that was both reassuring and captivating.
Twenty minutes later, Storm climbed into the driver’s seat, her purse and cell phone in hand. He gave them to her without a word before starting the engine. The silence in the truck was heavy but comforting, broken only by the faint hum of the heater. Every few minutes, he glanced her way, his dark eyes checking her carefully, as though making sure she wasn’t falling apart.
Brook sank deeper into the seat, her body and mind finally starting to relax. She didn’t know what she’d done to deserve someone like Storm showing up when she needed him most, but for now, she let herself feel safe.
When they finally pulled up to the clubhouse, Storm moved with his usual calm efficiency, but there was an extra layer of gentleness in his actions. He opened her door, reaching in to unbuckle her seatbelt and lift her effortlessly from the seat, cradling her as though she were made of glass before setting her on her feet. His arms were strong and steady, a reassuring anchor in the whirlwind of her emotions. Without a word, he guided her inside, his large hand resting lightly on her back as they moved through the common area.
Storm exchanged a few brief words with some of the club members they passed, his tone firm and no-nonsense, but Brook barely processed what he said. Everything around her felt muffled, distant. Maybe she was in shock—her mind still caught in the chaos of the crash. All she knew was that she was profoundly grateful Storm was there, his presence grounding her when everything else felt like it was about to spiral out of control.
When they reached a small, cozy apartment, he closed the door firmly behind them and turned the lock with a decisive click. He crossed to the couch, grabbed a soft, well-worn blanket, and draped it gently over her shoulders. Then he crouched in front of her, bringing his dark, steady eyes level with hers. His gaze held a quiet intensity, a silent promise that nothing would harm her here.
“You’re safe,” he said, his voice low and soothing, the words wrapping around her like the blanket, adding an extra level of security that she desperately needed. “And I’m not going anywhere, okay?”
The tight knot that had been coiled in her chest since the crash loosened slightly, and for the first time, she felt her lungs expand fully as she exhaled. Relief washed over her in waves.
“Thank you,” she murmured, barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry if I ruined your plans or whatever you were doing.”
Her eyes flicked over him, taking in the fitted navy-blue Henley that stretched across his broad chest and the dark jeans that hugged his muscular frame. Some of his tattoos peeked out of the bottom of his sleeves, which she found she liked. He looked impossibly good—more polished than usual. A sudden zing of jealousy sparked through her, irrational but insistent. Had he been on his way to meet someone? A date, maybe?
Storm settled onto the couch next to her, close enough that their thighs brushed. The warmth of his presence was immediate, calming. He took her hand in his, his thumb gently stroking over her knuckles as he spoke. “I’d just come from a meeting at my bank about the loan for the house I’m buying,” he explained, his tone even and reassuring. “I was headed to your office to try and catch you before the end of the work-day. I wanted to ask you to dinner and a movie to celebrate my offer being accepted.”
Her mouth fell open slightly, surprise flickering across her face. “You were coming to see me?”
His dark eyes stayed locked on hers as he nodded, and a warm flutter spread through her chest. In the three days since their lunch date, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Storm. She’d worried when they didn’t exchange numbers, worrying that perhaps he wasn’t as interested as she’d hoped. But now, knowing he’d been seeking her out, those doubts melted away.
“I’m sorry I ruined it,” she said softly though her words were tinged with regret.
Storm didn’t reply immediately. Instead, he reached over and scooped her up with effortless strength, settling her onto his lap. She gasped softly, startled by the ease with which he lifted her, but being surrounded by his warmth and solidity quickly calmed her. Compared to him, she felt small—a rare and oddly comforting sensation.
“You didn’t ruin it, sunshine.” His arms tightened around her, his hold protective as he continued in a low rumble, “Scared me a bit. I didn’t like seeing you out there on your own with that asshole yelling at you. That fucker needs his ass kicked.”
A soft smile touched her lips, and she leaned her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. “Thank you for saving me.”
He didn’t respond with words, but he didn’t need to. Instead, his arms tightened around her more securely, his embrace a silent reassurance. He reclined against the couch, reaching for the remote, and turned on the flat-screen TV. The cheerful opening notes of Bluey filled the room, and Brook blinked, her heart lifting a little. He couldn’t have known it, but it was one of her favorite cartoons—light, playful, and exactly what she needed to decompress from the chaos of the day.
Storm rested his chin lightly on the top of her head, his steadiness grounding her in ways she didn’t realize were possible. For the first time all day, she felt truly at ease, safe in the quiet warmth of his company.
It didn’t take long before her eyes felt too heavy to keep open and she let herself fade to sleep in the security and comfort of Storm’s arms.
Brook woke up, still safe in Storm’s arms, her thumb lodged in her mouth and a blanket covering her. She blinked several times, trying to quiet the swirl of emotions inside her. Storm’s breathing was shallow and even, so she was pretty sure he had fallen asleep, too. She was happy to have a moment of privacy to think about everything that had happened over the past few hours. The accident had been minor, and yet she’d completely panicked. If Storm hadn’t shown up, she wasn’t sure what would have happened. It wasn’t worth thinking about what that man could have done. But then Storm took over and cared for her in such a gentle way that surprised her.
Needing to use the bathroom, she tried to scoot off his lap, but he tightened his arms around her. “Where are you going, sunshine?”
A smile tugged at her lips, and she tilted her head to look up at him. His eyes were closed, but then he opened them just slightly and peered down at her.
“I need to go to the bathroom.” Her voice was small, and heat crept up her cheeks.
“I guess I’ll allow it.” As he loosened his grip and winked, she awkwardly stood. “Do you need help in there, baby?”
What?
Help in the bathroom?
What would she need help with?
The idea definitely did something to her, and she was suddenly glad to be on her feet. It would be really embarrassing to leave a wet spot on his jeans.
“No. I’m good.”
He quirked his mouth and pointed toward an open door. “It’s in there. Wash your hands when you’re done. I’m going to make you something warm to drink.”
Storm was walking back to the couch when she returned with two mugs in his hands.
“Thank you,” she murmured as she sat down. “For stopping, for… just… everything. I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t shown up.”
“Hey,” he said softly, setting one of the drinks on a side table. “You don’t have to thank me. You looked like you needed someone, and I wasn’t about to let you deal with that jerk alone.”
They stared at each other for a long moment before he lowered himself next to her. “Drink this. Hot chocolate fixes everything. Be careful, though, it might be too hot. Wait, let me test it first. I don’t want you to burn yourself.”
Before she could take it from him, he brought the mug to his lips, tipping it back for a drink. When he was happy it wasn’t going to hurt her, Storm passed Brook the cup. She giggled. He certainly was overprotective.
She hummed as she took a drink. “It’s so good.”
Storm winked at her then sat back and watched Peppa Pig with her like it was his favorite show. Surely, he wasn’t enjoying this.
“You smell nice,” she said suddenly, surprising herself.
He chuckled, the low sound vibrating through her. “Yeah? I wanted to say the same thing about you. Caramel and vanilla. Fucking edible.”
Her cheeks grew hot, and she avoided his gaze for a few seconds, then looked up at him. He was watching her, his eyes intense but not overwhelming, like he was trying to read every thought she wasn’t saying out loud.
The air between them crackled, and almost like a magnet was pulling her, she leaned closer to him. Storm gently set his cup on the side table then took hers and did the same. She didn’t understand how she could be so aroused by someone just from being in their presence, but it was instant when she was around him. Her core ached, and her breasts were heavy. She wanted him.
After a moment, he lowered his face to hers, his lips brushing hers delicately at first, as though giving her a chance to pull away. When she didn’t, he deepened the kiss, his hand sliding up to cup her cheek.
Storm's kiss was everything Brook hadn't realized she was waiting for—a slow, deliberate unraveling of restraint. Her heart thudded against her ribcage as his hand moved from her cheek to cradle the nape of her neck, his thumb tracing lazy circles against her skin. She melted into him, her fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt like it was a lifeline.
When he finally pulled back, her breath came in short, uneven bursts, her chest rising and falling against his. His dark gaze locked onto hers, intense but devoid of danger. Instead, it held something far more alluring, far more potent—a magnetic pull that left her dizzy.
“Brook,” he muttered, his voice gravelly and thick with emotion.
“Yeah?” Her words came out barely more than a whisper, trembling slightly as her fingers relaxed their grip on him.
He smirked then, that signature Storm confidence flickering in the curve of his lips, but there was a softness behind it that wasn’t usually there. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since the first day we met. You have no idea how hard it’s been holding back.”
“Really?” she replied, even quieter this time.
“Yeah, sunshine.” His gaze dropped briefly to her lips before meeting her eyes again. “Fuck, I wanted to kiss you the night I followed you home, but I didn’t want to scare you.”
The sincerity in his tone, the way his words carried no hint of regret, sent a warm shiver coursing through her. His openness was disarming, but it made her feel safe and cherished in a way she hadn’t expected.
“You don’t scare me,” she told him, her voice steadier now.
Storm’s smile widened, the warmth in his expression softening the hard edges of his face. He leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead, the tenderness of the gesture making her heart squeeze. Then he settled back into the couch, pulling her closer until she was nestled snugly against him, her head resting against his chest.
“I’m glad, baby girl,” he murmured in a soothing rumble that vibrated through her.
In his arms, with his steady heartbeat beneath her ear and his warmth enveloping her, everything else seemed to fade away. It was a moment she never wanted to end.