Page 19 of Courage, Dear Heart

Brock blinks, clearly rattled, and for a moment, he actually looks at her like he’s seeing her for the first time. But I don’t miss the flicker of anger beneath his smirk as he glances between us, realizing his control over the situation has slipped.

“Fine,” Brock mutters, rolling his eyes like he’s been inconvenienced. “But don’t think I’ll disappear that easily. You’re single, JJ. I’ll wear you down.”

My fists clench, and before Jillian can react, I step in, cutting in front of her, shielding her and Jamie with my body. “She’s not.”

Jillian shifts at my shoulder, her presence steady, but I know she’s tired of dealing with this guy, tired of always having to be the one to fend him off. Maybe it’s time he met someone who isn’t about to back down.

Brock blinks, tilting his head up to meet my eyes. “She’s not what?” There’s a note of confusion in his voice, and I find a petty satisfaction in the fact that he has to look up to talk to me. I’m taller than him, broader too, and maybe, just maybe, that’ll be incentive enough for him to rethink whatever he planned on doing next.

“She’s not single.” I lean in close enough that he can feel the weight behind my words. “And she won’t be having fun with you. Not today, not Sunday, not ever.”

There’s a flicker in his eyes, a split second of uncertainty. I know his type: used to getting his way, bulldozing through people without so much as a second thought. But he’s not dealing with Jillian alone anymore. He’s dealing with me.

Behind me, Jillian’s breath hitches, the slightest intake of air. I don’t look back, but I can feel her surprise, maybe even her relief. I realize in this moment, without question, that I want to be here for her. To offer her and Jamie some measure of peace, some space where they don’t have to feel threatened or pushed around. I might not have known her long, but everything in me wants to make sure she knows she’s not alone in this.

Brock’s sneer fades, his bravado thinning as he glances between me and Jillian. His confidence dimming, he tries to hold his ground. “You’re really stepping in on this, huh? You her protector now?”

“Something like that.” I keep my tone even. “And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave her and her son alone. For good.”

His jaw tightens, and for a second, I half expect him to take a swing. But he sneers like he’s already calculating his next move, deciding if it’s worth it.

“Fine,” he mutters, shifting his weight back, glancing around like he needs an audience to appreciate his exit. “This isn’t over, JJ.”

Jillian doesn’t flinch. “Go to hell, Brock.” Her voice is calm, resolute, like a door slamming shut. And I feel a swell of admiration for her—a strength that cuts right through anylingering fear I’d had about this guy. She’s doing more than standing her ground. She’s reclaiming it.

I stand by her side. Wait until he’s backed himself out of the shop, until the chime of the door signals his departure. Only then do I turn to face Jillian, my heart pounding as I meet her gaze. She looks up at me, and in her eyes, I see both gratitude and something deeper—an unspoken relief that maybe, just maybe, she doesn’t have to handle every battle alone.

“I’m sorry for the Neanderthal behavior. I didn’t mean to step in and take over. I had no right, but that guy was so completely out of line. I have two sisters and my brother protectiveness kicked in. It was either say what I said or physically remove him and risk making a mess in the store.” The words rush out. Oh, how I wanted to toss him on the street.

Jamie turns in her arms and holds his hand up for a high five. I tap his hand.

“Well, someone approves of your methods.” She kisses his forehead. “Thank you. I appreciate you stepping in. Brock’s relentless. I’ve been turning him down for years. Maybe now he’ll take the hint.”

“Have you talked to the police? Maybe get a restraining order on him?”

Jillian shakes her head. “He’s never been this bad before. Annoying, yes, but never this aggressive.” She tickles Jamie, and he squirms in her arms. Even his giggle is silent. She sets him on the floor, and he runs to the back of the store. “Thank you for stepping in and lying for me.”

“You’re welcome . . .” Something nags at me. “Did Icome out sounding like a jerk when I said I can get my sister to teach you how to make cupcakes?”

“Oh, gosh, no. It was a nice offer, even if you were joking.”

“I wasn’t joking. My sister would love to teach you and Jamie how to bake. It would be fun.”

She walks back behind the counter. “Can I be honest with you?”

“Always.” I step closer, the counter between us.

“Thank you, appreciate what you’re doing, but I’m not interested in being your next conquest. It would be weird sending myself flowers next Monday.” Her soothing smile lessens the sting of her words.

I drop my head and stare at my shoes for a few seconds, slide a finger around my shirt collar and tug at the suddenly constricting fabric. Heat spreads from my neck and into my face. I face her again. “I deserve that. But not all the flowers were sent to dates. Quite a few were sent to clients and my mom and sisters too.”

She crosses her arms and leans a hip into the counter. “I know. I’ve been handling those deliveries for a few years now.”

“I probably look like a jerk to you. Yeah, I guess I date a lot. But I’ve never led any woman to believe that whatever we had was the forever kind of love.” I’m too embarrassed to admit that my father manipulated most of thosedatesin his ever-growing need to create alliances with powerful people.

She flinches at my words, and I kick myself inward. Why do I keep saying the wrong thing? Jesus! I’m a complete idiot.

She shrugs. “No, I don’t think you’re a jerk. And the flowers were all very nice. I’m sure the ladies you datedenjoyed your company. And I’ve even had a few of them turn into clients after getting their roses.”

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