Page 42 of Burden to Bear

Not once in all the times I was aware I’d see Brock—or even when I happened to run into him by chance—did I ever feel nervous. Not when I came home from work and knew he’d be at the mailbox, not when I was aware he’d be shoveling snow at the same time as me, nor when I marched over to his place to ask if he could lend me two eggs.

Even in my regular life, it wasn’t typical.

The most recent time I’d felt anxious was on Christmas Eve, when I’d been preparing to share news of my pregnancy with Todd. But that was a big life change, and although I’d felt some anxiety about it, I think it was mostly excitement and anticipation about his reaction more than anything else.

This felt different.

I didn’t know what was causing it or how to handle it. I’d spent a lot of time since yesterday thinking about Brock, and it seemed that had led to me working myself into a bit of a frenzy, despite my efforts to distract myself with baby-related tasks.

I wanted to have a good time with him tonight. I wanted it to be nice. Other than that one mishap yesterday when I’d wrongly assumed he no longer wanted to have dinner with me, or that time Todd was a jerk when I introduced them, I’d never been around Brock and not felt completely at ease.

We got along great, and there hadn’t ever been instances of awkward silence. I’d always had a knack for opening up and talking to people. I was outgoing and friendly by nature.

So, to be making my way over to Brock’s place while experiencing so many nerves felt strange.

I took several slow, deep breaths as I walked along the path toward his front door just a few minutes before six o’clock. If I stood any chance of not ruining the night, of not making myself look like a fool again, I had to pull myself together.

No expectations.

That’s what I needed to do.

Heading into the evening, I just needed to be myself. The unnecessary pressure wasn’t helping me, so if I could get myself into the mindset that the possibility of something more than just a friendly dinner between neighbors wasn’t the case here, I’d be okay.

I made it to the door, lifted my hand to it, and knocked.

A moment later, Brock was standing in front of me with a sweet look on his face. “Hi, Mia.”

“Hi, Brock.”

“Come on in.”

My belly trembled a bit as I stepped into his house and caught a whiff of his cologne as I did. It was no secret I’d been battling with different fragrances over the last few weeks. There were some scents I just couldn’t stand—eggs in any cooked form, ugh.

What I inhaled when I stepped past Brock was nothing short of delightful. An undeniable smell of masculinity. It was slightly woodsy, warm, earthy, and with a hint of lime.

Perhaps it was the lime that did me in. I hadn’t hidden how much the citrus fragrances were appealing to me. I allowed my thoughts to drift somewhere they shouldn’t have. If I tasted Brock the way I tasted that lemon cookie yesterday, I didn’t think I’d have the same reaction.

Shaking my head, needing to rid it of the unhelpful thoughts, I said, “I hope I’m not too late or early.”

“You have perfect timing, because I’m just about ready with the food,” he replied, leading me away from the door and toward the dining area. The table had already been set with our plates, napkins, utensils, and toppings for the tacos. “Grab a seat, and I’ll be right over with the rest of the food.”

I sat in the same seat I’d been in when I joined Brock and Izzy for lunch last week. Brock returned with the rest of the food, which looked amazing. My mouth watered; my belly growled.

“These look so delicious,” I told him as he lowered himself down onto his chair.

“Thanks. I think they taste great, but I’ll wait to toot my own horn until you tell me what you think of them,” he said.

For the next little while, we took to assembling our tacos. Once I sunk my teeth in and tasted the flavors on my tongue, I let out a moan of delight. My eyes widened in surprise at just how good they tasted.

After swallowing that first bite, I immediately took a second and moaned again. And only after I’d swallowed that bite did I share my thoughts. “Either I’m hungrier than I thought, which is a very real possibility these days, or these are the best tacos I’ve ever had.”

Brock laughed, the smile lighting up his face, and the sound easing those lingering nerves I’d been feeling. I should have known this would be okay.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should,” I said as I nodded, smiled, and took another bite. “Did you slave away on this all day today?”

Clearly still amused, his lips twitched. “No. I did some work out in my shop earlier this morning. This didn’t take me that long.”

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