Page 67 of The Desperate Warrior

She shrugged. “I guess I was. It was nice to just relax for once. And get a break from all the turmoil.”

His eyes hardened. “I don’t like him.”

A surprised laugh bubbled in her throat. “Who? Asher?” She read the answer on his face. She remembered that he’d said the same thing about Dean. “How can you say that? You don’t even know him.”

“There’s something off about him.”

She studied Brock’s razor-sharp jaw, noting the tension in his broad shoulders. She couldn’t help but be amused. “You mean there’s something off about him because he’s handsome and he’s into me?”

Brock didn’t skip a beat. “Yeah,” he challenged. “That’s exactly what I’m saying—on both accounts.” His intense eyes cut to hers. “I don’t like you with him.”

She straightened in her seat, ready to spar. “Last I checked, we weren’t together anymore. So you don’t get to decide who I spend time with.”

“That’s a real shame.” His voice was low and taut.

“Yeah,” she whispered. “It is.”

Determination masked his face. “I’m gonna have him checked out.”

Her eyes flew open wide. “What?”

He nodded without hesitation. “I’m going to have Leroy run a background check. If Dr. Asher Winslow has any skeletons hiding in his closet, we’ll find them.”

A brittle laugh fell from her lips. “Seriously? You’re putting this poor guy through the wringer? The last I checked, he was a victim, too.” She held up a finger. “Don’t forget—his house was broken into.”

“Look,” Brock said calmly, giving her an expression that had checkmate written all over it. “You know the drill; we make a point of checking out everyone who’s associated with you. That includes him. How long have you worked with Asher Winslow?”

She did a quick mental calculation. “I’ve been at the clinic a little over four years. He’s been there the entire time.”

“In all that time, has he ever shown any romantic interest in you?”

“I mean…” She paused, squinting in thought. “Not until recently.”

“Why now?”

She moistened her lips. “Well, he was engaged before, but they broke up. Maybe he’s looking for a fresh start. Maybe I just happened to be in his path by taking the same cooking class.” She chuckled. “Okay, Asher showed me a little attention, but it’s not like he professed his love.”

A flame shot from Brock’s eyes. “That had better not be the case.”

His protectiveness was unmistakable and kind of charming. “Brock Ellis,” she drawled with a coy smile, “I do believe you’re jealous.”

His answer came flying out. “You better believe I’m jealous. I’m jealous of anyone who makes a play for you.”

The way he said it—low, unguarded, fierce—stirred something inside her … something confusing. Pleasure? Frustration? A little of both, perhaps.

She gave a helpless laugh and flicked a hand. “You know what? Fine. Check him out. Have his whole family checked out, for all I care.”

“Maybe I will,” he fired back.

“Do it.”

Their eyes locked again. Seconds passed. The air between them was thick with unresolved tension, old hurts, and something far more dangerous—a desire lurking just below the surface like jagged rocks beneath turbulent water, ready to cut and injure if stepped on.

He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “When I saw you having a good time and enjoying some lighthearted conversation … well, I was frustrated,” he admitted softly. “Because it wasn’t with me. I just wish you could laugh like that with me.”

Laughter bubbled in her throat. It was certainly a night for admissions. Maybe her being more open had paved the wayfor him to do the same. “Brock, you’re a lot of things—but lighthearted is not one of them.”

He made a face. “Hey, I know how to have fun.”

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