Brock’s eyes narrowed on his ex-wife’s husband.

Then he asked, “You gonna tell me why my boys are jumpy as shit?”

“Yes,” Dade answered but said no more or at least he didn’t speak fast enough.

“So…” Brock started, “spit it out.”

“She’s fragile,” Dade stated.

Brock let out an entirely unamused, short bark of laughter before he declared, “Man, Olivia’s made of stone, figuratively and I assume you’ve f**ked her so you know also literally.”

Ouch again!

“Brock, honey,” I whispered as Dade’s mouth got tight again.

“No, Lucas,” he bit out, “what I mean is, this is what she communicates to the boys.”

Brock’s entire body went still.

Then he asked softly, “She’s playin’ my boys? ”

“With every breath she takes,” Dade answered.

I froze and stared at Dade.

Oh my God.

“Why the f**k would she do that?” Brock asked what I thought was a very good question.

“I would assume, since you’ve known her longer than I, you understand that she’s careful to acquire important allies. And I would assume, as you divorced her, that your reasons for this were at least partly what mine are going to be.” I heard Brock pull in a sharp breath through his nose at learning this news but Dade went on. “And she simply is who she is. So, I would assume that you understand that she would need as much attention as possible as this is as necessary to her as breath but also to force affection she is not capable of obtaining in natural ways should, for instance, she need to battle me or…” his eyes slid to me then back to Brock, “you.”

“Fuckin’ piece of work,” Brock clipped under his breath, looking away while lifting a hand and tearing it through his wet hair.

“They’re exceedingly cautious around her because she dissolves into tantrums or tears often and at random. They have no idea what will set her off so they’re careful with everything,” Dade continued sharing and he looked at me. “She was not like this prior to us being married or, at least, not that I knew.”

“Let me guess,” Broke put in and Dade’s eyes moved back to him, “it happened, what? An hour after she signed the marriage certificate?”

“Upon return from our honeymoon,” Dade corrected.

“Terrific. At least you got the honeymoon,” Brock returned and Dade’s eyes widened.

“No,” he said quietly.

“Uh… yeah,” Brock replied.

“My Lord,” Dade whispered.

“So, you’re divorcin’ her ass?” Brock asked.

“Indeed,” Dade answered.

“Shit, f**k, f**k, ” Brock muttered harshly to the floor.

I would guess there were several reasons for Brock cursing at the floor. One of them would be that, without Dade, Olivia would be on her own again to drain him dry financially.

The other was that she would have the time to put more effort into making him miserable.

Damn.

Dade looked at him. Then he looked at me.

Then he looked back to Brock and said softly, “Whatever move you’re going to make,”

Brock’s head came up and his eyes locked with Dade’s, “make it soon. I will delay for a few weeks so the boys will have some stability, a roof over their heads, familiar things around them. But only a few weeks, Lucas. I cannot take much more.”

I felt my heart beating hard and I felt Brock’s body still beside mine.

“And,” he went on, studying Brock closely, “if it comes to that, I will do what I can to help you.” He paused. “For Joey and Rex.”

Wow.

Whatever they said about a woman scorned, when a man was… whoa.

When Brock said not a word and continued staring at Dade, I waded in.

“Dade, that… that’s very kind. Very kind. The boys may never understand but if they did, they’d appreciate it and, um…” my head jerked to Brock and I finished, “we do too.”

Dade nodded then said quietly, “This gives you only weeks to make that heart-to-heart cake, Tess.”

“I miss the deadline, I’ll bring a full one by your house and leave it on the doorstep,” I offered.

“My dear,” he replied, moving toward us and stopping in front of me, “ring the bell anytime.” He turned his head and his eyes went up to Brock before he said softly, “I started with a good one. Lucky for you that you’re ending with one.”

Wow. That was sweet.

Then he nodded to me and muttered, “Pleasure, Tess, thank you for the coffee. I’ll let myself out.”

Then he waited for my smile, skirted us and let himself out.

I turned to Brock.

“If you want, I’ll gather all the things I don’t mind you smashing and put them on the coffee table or, an alternate option, I can go grab you a bottle of beer,” I offered.

He looked down at me. Then he stalked to my armchair, sat down, bent forward, put his elbows to his knees and both hands to the back of his head.

I hurried to him and crouched down beside him, my fingers curling around his thigh.

“Seriously, Brock, let this out,” I whispered.

“Fucked up,” he muttered to his knees.

“Brock –”

“Knew I shouldn’t’ve but left them to her for a year. A f**kin’ year, ” he bit off.

“Honey –”

“She’s playin’ my boys,” he said still talking to his knees.

I squeezed his thigh. “Honey –”

“With every breath she takes.”

I squeezed his thigh again but kept my fingers tensed into his flesh and also kept silent.

“Fuck! ” he exploded then threw himself back against the chair.

I straightened, moved and climbed in, putting a knee in the seat on either side of his h*ps so I was astride him. Then I leaned forward, hands on the fast-drying material of his running shirt and put my face in his face, feeling his hands curve around my hips.

“This, too, shall pass,” I whispered.

“Yeah, babe, but it needed to pass yesterday or, say, two f**kin’ years ago,” Brock responded.

“Okay, it didn’t. You can’t turn back time, honey. Just talk to them.”

“And say what, Tess? That their Mom is a miserable, scheming cunt and their Dad is an ass**le who put his job before them and left them to that bullshit?” Brock asked angrily.