Page 26 of Forbidden Love

Still, when Deb looked at him, something in her expression shifted slightly. The steel was still there, but behind it, he caught a glimpse of something softer. Relief, maybe.

And just like that, he knew—whether he meant to or not, he’d just stepped into a battle that didn’t belong to him. But he was in it, and truth be told, he didn’t mind. Because if it meant standingbetween Deb and whatever venom Linda was spitting, then so be it. A few of the men had warned him about Linda and another woman named Sadie. Brock definitely didn’t need that kind of trouble.

He hadn’t expected this, hadn’t expectedher. Her pull on him wasn’t logical, and it sure as hell wasn’t convenient. Not only was it real and raw, but it was dangerous in the way she made himfeel.

Damn,he thought, watching the tension still coiled in her shoulders.This woman’s gonna be the end of me—and my dumbass will go down smiling.

His gaze never left her, not even as Linda and her little shadow turned and made their exit, heels tapping in retreat. He didn’t bother trying to remember the friend’s name.

Deb didn’t watch them go. She didn’t look shaken, didn’t let anything slip, just stood there with that quiet fire in her eyes.

“Great timing,” she said, her voice even, unreadable. She didn’t explain or open up, and that only made him respect her more. She wasn’t one to hand out pieces of herself, not easily.

He gave a slow nod, the corner of his mouth twitching into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Yeah,” he said, voice low. “Seemed like you had it handled… but figured I’d give you an out if you wanted it.”

“Oh, I wanted it,” Deb said, her voice low and steady, laced with that quiet fire he was starting to recognize as pure Deb. Controlled but dangerous when pushed too far.

Brock tilted his head, something like a smirk tugging at the edge of his mouth, but his eyes stayed serious. “Then I’m glad I could help.”

She crossed her arms, her eyes still fixed on the door Linda had flounced through. “She’s been dying to push me. I’ve let it slide. Gave her space. Tried the whole rise-above-it thing.” She turned her gaze back to him, steady and unflinching. “And today, she tried to strike, but my strike is much more dangerous. I’ve had to learn the hard way to stand my ground...unfortunately. I’m doing my best to stand my ground without taking someone else’s out from under them, even Linda’s.”

Brock didn’t say anything right away. He didn’t have to. He just looked at her like he saw every crack she tried to hide, every scar she’d stitched over with grace and grit. And damn if that didn’t make something tighten in his chest.

“I do have to warn you, though,” Deb continued, now looking up at him. “Linda doesn’t take too kindly at being dismissed, especially by men.”

“Warning heard,” Brock said with a low, thoughtful chuckle, though there was no real humor behind it. His eyes never left hers, steady and sure. “I’ve handled worse.”

But Deb didn’t smile. Her expression didn’t even flicker. Instead, her brow knitted together, and something behind her eyes dimmed. “But has your sister?” she asked quietly.

That stopped him cold.

Brock’s smile vanished as quickly as it had come, his body tensing. “Why would she go for Tammy?” he asked, voice sharper now, clipped and protective in a way that came naturallywhen it involved his sister. “What the hell does Tammy have to do with any of this?”

Deb hesitated, and that pause hit harder than any words. She looked away, her jaw tightening, eyes drifting toward the floor like she was searching for something there—some steadiness, maybe. And when she spoke again, her voice was softer, almost a whisper, but every word cut deep.

“Because,” she said, pain flickering across her face like a shadow she couldn’t quite hide, “it’s what I would’ve done.”

That admission hit Brock like a punch to the gut—not because he believed Deb capable of that kind of cruelty, but because he knew she wasn’t saying it out of malice. She was speaking from a place of experience. A place he hadn’t been, but one he suddenly wanted to understand. To protect her from. To protectTammyfrom.

He stepped a little closer, his voice low and rough. “You’re not her, Deb.”

“I know,” she whispered. “But I used to be.”

“That’s hard to believe,” Brock said as he studied Deb closely.

Deb let out a dry snort, the kind that held no real amusement—just a bitter edge of truth she was still learning to live with. But before she could say anything else, the kitchen door creaked open and Clare’s head popped through, eyes wide with hopeful dread.

“Please tell me she’s gone?” Clare asked, her voice hushed like saying Linda’s name might summon her back.

“It’s clear,” Deb replied, a smirk tugging at her lips now, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Then she turned to Brock, mischief laced with something heavier simmering beneath her words. “Clare, tell Brock what I used to be like,” she said, lifting a brow. “I don’t think he believes I used to run with Linda. Don’t hold back. Let the truth rip.”

Clare raised both brows, blinking at Deb like she wasn’t sure if this was a trap. Deb only gave her a nod, subtle but firm, indicating she meant it.

“I think it’s time he hears from a reliable source what a bitch I used to be,” Deb added with a quiet laugh, the kind that had more regret than humor in it.

Clare stepped fully into the room then, wiping her hands on a towel and eyeing Brock with the kind of fond warning only someone who’d seen it all could give. “Oh, you havenoidea,” she said with a half-smile. “Deb was a hurricane. Gorgeous, sharp-tongued, and absolutely terrifying when she wanted to be. Linda was the match, but Deb? She was the wildfire.”

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