Page 9 of Forbidden Love

“But I was one of those who spread and even started some of the small-town gossip about the good people of this town,” Deb whispered, her eyes shying away from his. “I wasn’t a very nice person.”

He said nothing as he sat there listening and eating his food, though his eyes rarely left her, and it was very unsettling if she were being honest.

“Listen, you don’t have to sit here, be nice, and act like I’m not the person I used to be.” Deb decided to nip this shit in the bud. There had to be a reason this man—who she barely knew—was acting like she was the nice girl in town. She wasn’t. She had never been.

He remained silent, which was starting to irritate her.

“I’m not going to toss your sister and nephew out on the streets,” she continued, meeting his eyes with a steady, unflinching gaze. “I gave my word.”

Brock stopped chewing, his expression shifting, the easy warmth in his eyes cooling into something unreadable. He swallowed, took a slow drink of coffee, then wiped his mouth deliberately.

“That’s what you think this is?” His voice was calm, but there was something beneath it. Something sharp.

She crossed her arms, suddenly feeling exposed under the weight of his gaze. “I think it makes the most sense.”

Brock leaned back, draping an arm over the back of the booth, studying her like she was a puzzle he intended to solve. “So let me get this straight. You think I’m sitting here, having dinner with you, because I’m worried you’ll kick Tammy and Ben out?”

She forced a smirk, lifting a shoulder. “Stranger things have happened.”

Brock huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Deb, that is the last thing I would ever think. For one, I am a man who can take care of my own. You offered to help women, not just my sister. I took you at your word, and I don’t take you as a liar. For two, you are not cruel.”

Deb laughed, but it sounded brittle, even to her own ears. “Tell that to the rest of the town.”

“They don’t matter.”

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

Brock’s jaw tightened. “I said...they don’t matter. People love to hold onto their versions of the past, especially when it makesthem feel better about themselves.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t mean they’re right.”

Deb swallowed hard, looking away. “Again, you don’t know me, Brock.”

He didn’t flinch, didn’t back down. “Maybe not. But I know enough.”

The certainty in his voice unnerved her. No one had ever looked at her like this, like they sawherand not just the reputation she’d spent years cultivating.

Before she could respond, a burst of laughter from a nearby table drew her attention. A couple of women glanced over, whispering behind their hands, shaking their heads.

Deb clenched her jaw and looked away, fingers tightening around her cup.

Brock followed her gaze, his expression darkening. “You gonna let them get to you?”

“I deserve it.”

“The hell you do.”

Deb let out a bitter laugh. “Spoken like someone who doesn’t know the full story.”

Brock leaned back, crossing his arms. “Then tell me.”

She looked at him, really looked at him, and for a moment, she almost considered it. She nearly let herself believe that someone like him could see her for more than the mistakes she’d made. But the walls she had built were too thick, too ingrained.

Instead, she shook her head, took another sip of coffee, and muttered, “Eat your damn burger, Brock.”

He smirked, but there was something else in his eyes. Something that told her this conversation wasn’t over. And damn it…a part of her didn’t want it to be.

CHAPTER 6

Brock wasn’t sure what it was about this woman that got under his skin, but something did. Maybe it was the way she carried herself—like she was always expecting a fight, always waiting for someone to take a swing so she could swing harder. Maybe it was the way her green eyes flashed with defiance, even when she was barely holding herself together. Or maybe it was the fact that, despite everything people said about her, he had yet to see a single bit of it for himself.

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