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Home Sweet Home (AU Brock Rumlow/Original Female Character) Chapter Three

WORD COUNT: 6026

TRIGGERS: Mentions of War Trauma, PTSD, Age Gap, Alcohol, Teenage Pregnancy

HAPPY READING!

CHAPTER THREE - YOU!

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"What was the ASAP about?" Molly questions, as she takes a seat in the egg chair when Calleigh closes the door to her bedroom.

"Huh?" Calleigh replies. With everything that had happened with Brock this morning, she almost forgot about the message she sent last night.

"It's about the guy in the pool isn't it?" Molly gestures towards the back of the house. Her heart is beating rapidly from the exitement for her friend. Although Brock is older, and Jack's friend. If there's feelings there, Calleigh should definetly act on it.

Calleigh lets out a noise and lets herself fall back first down on her bed. One thing was feeling it, to say it out loud. That would make it really real. And she can't fall for Brock. That would absolutely ruin everything, in every possible way imaginable. "What do you want me to say, Molls?" She breathes out, as she sits up, and buries her face in her hands.

"You looked pretty close there. Did something happen?" Molly pushes on. She was usually a shy and quiet person, but all of that kinda went away when she was with Calleigh and Jess. The three girls had known each other for 16 years or so, it was easy to be around them.

"Arrgh... I don't know, Molls," Calleigh sniffs. "It's Brock. I don't even know what's happening to me," she continues, whiping away a lonely tear that escaped her eye. When did everything become so difficult? Any other guy would work, litterally anyone. But her dad's best friend. What would Jack say? What would her mom say? Her grandparents? Brock's mom and siblings? Did she just fuck up the rest of her life?

"Oh, honey," Molly's comforting voice is suddenly right beside her, and Molly's hand is on her shoulder. "You can't decide who you fall in love with. And neither can he. If you feel-," she starts.

"He's my dad's best friend. He's known me since birth. God, Molly, he probably changed my diapers. This is just wrong on so many levels," Calleigh sniffs again. Almost sobbing now. How could she be this stupid? Even if she wanted this, and he wanted this, it could never happen. It just couldn't.

Molly puts her arm around her friend. There's no need for words right now. It will undoubtably be hard for Calleigh to date Brock, or have a fling with Brock, or whatever they might have going on. But Molly was still a firm believer that if you feel and he feels, you should act it out. No matter the consequences. She guesses that's a mentallity she has from losing her dad at a young age. She was so young when he passed, that she never really got to know him. So she felt the need to live life to the fullest, to make him proud, and to make sure she did absolutely everything she wanted to or dreamt about doing.

After Molly's dad passed away, Jack stepped in and became a father figure for her. He made sure Molly and her mom were alright and taken care of. Molly often stayed at the Rollins house or Jack's lake house when her mom worked or needed some time for herself. Jack had always been there for her. Brock, on the other hand, was more like the fun uncle who occasionally spoiled them with candy. Both Jack and Brock felt like family to Molly. Jack even gave her a job in his business, treating her like his own daughter. When Molly turned 18, two years after Calleigh moved to New York with her mom, Jack attended her graduation alongside her mom. He then offered her a job in his HR team. Molly was thrilled because she had trouble leaving her mom behind. The job had good pay, insurance, occasional travel opportunities, and a desk job, which was rare for someone her age. It felt reassuring to have a stable job at Rollins Delivery, a company with a long history and promising future. Molly felt like she had a job for life.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

Brock slowly exits the pool. If you were a casual bystander to the scene, you could argue that it was taken straight out of a movie. His shorts hangs losely over his hips, revealing his toned V shape. His dark skin glistening in the sun from the water dripping off it. The tattoos on his arms make him look like a good bad guy. The few hairs on his upper body barly visible given his skin tone. As Brock lifts his arm, dragging his hand through his hair, he reveals another tattoo hidden on his upper arm.

Brock sighs. He shouldn't have tried to kiss her. She didn't exactly tell him no, but she didn't say yes either. His heart make an extra beat when he thinks about how close they were. Just an inch more, and he would have had his lips on hers. Calleigh was undoubtably an amazing young woman. Beautiful, sweet, intelligent and not at all like his previous girlfriends. But still, after his ex Taylor it was hard to think about starting a new relationship. And a relationship with Calleigh. Would that at all be possible? Even if she wanted it, and he wanted it, it would be almost impossible given his friendship with Jack.

Brock pushes his thoughts to the back of his head, no use in thinking about this now. Not until he's sure it can actually turn into something. He picks up his t shirt from the tiles, and hangs it over a chair To dry off. Then he looks at Kilo, still frolicking in the pool. "Hey, buddy! Come here," he shouts to the dog. "Hey, dog, come here," he repeats. There's no response from Kilo, nothing at all. He's like his nephew Aaron was when he was two years old, and Brock tried to get him to bed. "Stupid dog," Brock mutters for himself.

A loud whiste from the back enterance to the garage catches both Brock's and Kilo's attention. Kilo exits the pool instantaniously, greeting the person who whistled, as she puts down four plastic bags with the familiar sound of bottles clinking together.

Jessica or Jess for short Grayson was 22 years old, and the only one out of the three friends that could legally purchase alcohol. She was about 5'5" with thick dark hair, brown eyes and that typical latina flair, both physically and mentally. She had a smart mouth, that almost always got her into or out of trouble. Her quick wit was well known around these parts, and Brock could imagine that she had a great future ahead of her in the legal world. Both of Jessicas parents were lawyers. Her dad Stephen Grayson was a corporate lawyer, he got his degree at Harvard, and had earned himself a good reputation in the business since then. Her mother Eliana Lucía was a well known defense attorny, with several high end cases under her belt. Jessica had followed in her parents footsteps, and was working on her undergraduate degree. She had started straight out of high school, and Jack had been so sure of her skills, that he'd already given her a job on his legal team, even before she had finished law school.

"They're up in Calleigh's room," Brock informs her grabbing her bags "You just head on in, I'll put these in the fridge for ya'," he continues.

"As long as you don't take anything," Jess replies raising one of her eyebrows.

Brock takes a look in the bags, then he sends Jess an amused look. "You have four six packs and four bottles of wine. What are you planning on doing?" He chuckles.

Jess lifts her right hand, mimicking drinking. "Glugg, glugg yohoo," she laughs, before she enters the house and dissapeares.

Brock can't help but shake his head. Although he remembers his early 20's he can't say that it's the same as Calleigh, Molly or Jess' lifes. Brock had enlisted shortly after his 18th birthday. He didn't think much of it back then. The military was a good way to make some extra money for his family. And it wasn't unsusual for Texan boys to enlist. Nothing much happened after Basic Training either. A couple of NATO training ops in Scandinavia, but nothing he saw as dangerous or life threatening at all. But that was before that horrendous day in September 2001. He can still remember that day. And he can still feel his body tense up when he thinks back. The whole country held their breaths. And he knew, he just knew that this was his chance to really do something, something he would be remembered for, something that mattered.

After that day everything changed. In November that very same year, he left for his first tour in Afghanistan. He was 24 years old, young, ignorant as to what war really was and ready to fight for his family and his country's freedom. They were called heroes, and back then he felt like one. He had no idea what waited for him over there. And he's glad he didn't know back then. What he witnessed, he wouldn't want his worst enemy to experience. It wasn't often he really let himself think back, it was too painful, and he still went to therapy to deal with his flashbacks, and the PTSD he had been diagnosed with after he came home for good. Some people told him he was lucky, that he came home. Not everyone did. He didn't feel lucky, there wasn't a bone in his body that felt lucky. He felt more guilty. Guilty that he survived. And in any other situation, you would never tell someone that they were lucky if they saw their friends die a horrible death, without them being able to do a damn thing about it. Who in their rigtheous mind, would concider that to be lucky?

Trying to shake the memories off, he walks inside loading the fridge with the stuff Jess brought with her. He contemplates taking a beer, but decides against it. He has to make a quick trip home to pick up some stuff. And maybe he'll ask the girls if they want pizza or something. The second Calleigh pops up in his head, it's like all the bad memories just fade away. Like they were never there. Brock has never experienced this before, not even when he was a teenager. That a girl could just erase all the bad feelings. As he lets himself gently fall down on the couch, he takes a quick peak up the stairs mouthing a silent thank you to Calleigh.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

"Oh great, you're here. We. Need. Advice," Molly tells Jess, almost before she enters the room.

"Naha, no no," Jess replies, lifting her hand making a pretend wall between herself and the two girls on the bed. "If I hear ONE more legal jargon. I swear to God himself I'm gonna need my mother's advice," she continues.

"Not even if it's about a certain handsome older guy that's somewhere downstairs right now?" Molly asks, her tone teasing, like she want's to lure Jess into a trap or something.

"Brock did something illegal?" Jess gasps rubbing her hands together as she sits down next to Calleigh. "What did he do?" She continues.

Calleigh puts her hands over her face, lets out a displeased sound, before she lets herself fall back on the bed. "You didn't tell me he was all tattooed and shit," she mumbles.

"Yeah, after he got out of that horrible relationship he really, and I mean really cleaned himself up," Jess informs, still blissfully ignorant to the situation at hand.

"Relationship?" Calleigh sits back up again "What relationship?" She asks. Why didn't she know about this? Not that she expected Brock to tell her, but even when she lived in New York, she did visit her dad as often as possible, and she never encountered any girls on Brock's arm.

"Yeah, apparantly she was a real bitch to him. Everyone was talking about it. Anyway, what did he do? He didn't kill her, did he? Because she probably deserves that, after what I've heard," Jess continues, fast paced, and still oblivious to what's acctually happening.

"What did you hear?" Calleigh pushes for answers, answers she's not even sure she wants. The thought of another woman close to Brock does something to her. It's like all the sunshine, butterflies and rainbows that awakens inside her when she thinks about him or she's close to him, are taken over by these black stormy clouds. And that does not feel good at all. Rationally she understands that Brock isn't a virgin, with his 46 years he must have had several women. But the thought of another woman kissing him, touching him. She want's to be the one to do that. "God, I need help," she whines before she lets herself fall back on the bed again.

"What did Brock do?" Jess ask again.

Jess's question earns her a look from Molly. "I think it's good that you took a break from law reading Jess. Snap out of it. Calleigh is into Brock," Molly snaps her fingers in front of Jess, earning a scream from Calleigh behind her hands that still covers her face.

"Nooo," Jess almost screams. Earning a frantic nod from Molly.

"Oh, yes. And by the looks of it, he's into her as well," Molly's voice is almost extatic. That's how happy she is for her friend.

"He's not into me, Molls. He's 26 years older than me, oh, and don't forget that he's also my dad's best friend," Calleigh tries, but she's interrupted by Jess.

"Okay, let's go downstairs and see for ourselfs. I know these things you know. I can smell it a mile away," Jess voice is almost instructing them. "Hey, Calleigh. What are you going to do if he's into you?" She continues, suddenly there's a tiny bit of concern in her voice.

"I don't know... I really don't know," Calleigh sighs. "Should I do something? Could I do something?" She continues.

"I say go for it. But first, let's assess the situation, and then I can give you pointers," Jess talks as she moves towards the door. "Seriously, I don't know what you guys would do without me," she continues as she opens the door.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

Brock leans back in the coutch. Looks up at the ceiling, before he drags his hand over his face. Fuckin' life. He absolutely knew that he wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed when it came to picking girlfriends. God knows life had taught him that. But Calleigh? He really went too far down the idiot road this time. But no matter how much he told himself to stop, it was impossible. The feelings were already there, nothing he could do about that now, other than keep a safe distance. But given that Calleigh now lived here full time, his friendship With Jack, and the fact that he practically was a part of the family, that would raise suspicion. "Jesus, Brock," he whispers to himself.

He needs to get out of here. Go home for a bit, let the girls have the place for themselves for a couple of hours. Go home, take a shower, clear his head, and order pizza or something on his way back. He just needs to tell Calleigh first. With a sigh he gets himself off the coutch.

Walking up the stairs, he feels like it takes forever. But it gives him time to think. Maybe if he just forces himself to not have feelings the next time he looks at her. Maybe that'll help. Pretend she's someone else. God, it is possible to be more stupid or childish? Brock looked at himself as a normal intelligent human being, except when he was in love, then he was as stupid as they come.

He takes a couple of deep breaths, before he lifts his hand to knock on Calleigh's door. He can hear Jess' voice from the inside, but he can't make out what she's saying. Before he gets to think any further, Jess opens the door.

"Whoa. Mr. Rumlow," Jess gasps in surprise. She knows that they usually just call him Brock. But she was raised well, and she was surprised by him standing there.

"Brock is fine, Jessica," he replies as he take a quick peak into the room.

"Now who's in Stealth mode?" Calleigh teases, raising her eyebrows.

Brock smiles in return. Or at least his face is trying to smile. Brock feels like it's more like a bad attempt at a funny face. "I have my moments," he desperately tries to laugh it off. But all he can think is 'not working' over and over again. Forcing his mind to get it together, he clears his throat. "I was thinking about heading home for a while, pick up some stuff I need..," he stops mid sentence, looking at Calleigh. "Are you crying?" He asks, concern in his voice and written all over his face.

"Nah, nothing. You just go home and do your thing. We'll be fine," Calleigh replies, but her heart sinks from the thought of him leaving.

"I just need some stuff for work, and I don't know when Jack'll be back. If you want anything to eat, I can order pizza on my way back," Brock looks between the girls, searching for an answer.

"You're staying here?" Jess questions, before she clears her throat. "I mean. You're staying here," Jess tries to give Brock her sweetest smile. It wasn't at all meant like a negative remark when she delivered the line as a question. It just caught her off guard, that Brock actually had the intention of staying here. With Calleigh. Stupid brain, she thinks for herself. Cursing at the fact that those brain to mouth filters was something you were born with, and not something you could install later on.

"Pizza is good, Brock. Thanks," Calleigh hastely shoots in to stop Jess from taking the speak before you think thing any further. It wasn't like it was embarrassing or anything, they all knew each other. Including Brock. No, what Calleigh feared the most was for Brock to catch on to her liking him.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

As the afternoon sun sends it's last rays down on the backyard of the Rollins house. Jess, Molly and Calleigh sits poolside. Fet in the water and a bottle of beer i hand, listening to the birds soothing tones.

"Not into you? Seriously, Calleigh?" Jess almost laughs. "He's staying here with you. What does that tell you?" She continues, tilting her head a bit and making that signature Jess move, raising one of her eyebrows.

"What it tells me is that my dad is overly protective, and that he asked Brock to look after me. That's what it tells me," Calleigh replies. It's not like she doesn't want Brock to be into her. Because that would be absolutely amazing. But it will also be frightening as hell.

"You're 20 years old, Calleigh. You don't need a babysitter anymore. Brock knows that. He's staying here because he wants to, not because your dad asked him," Jess continues to push on, earning a hard nod from Molly, as to show she's with Jess on this one.

"Have you actually seen my dad?" Calleigh argues. "You guys of all people should know that you don't say no to him, you just don't," she continues as memories from her junior high School years fills her head.

Jack Rollins was 6'2" with piercing green eyes and dark hair. He was the sweetest person alive,but he looked scary. He was injured during his last tour in Afghanistan in 2008, which had earned him a pretty nasty scar on the lower right side of his face. Once he got used to the scar, he carried it like war paint, and used if for all it was worth. Especially when it came to Calleigh and her dates. It wasn't like she didn't get dates. Guys did ask her out, and she had a couple of movie dates during her teenage years. But it never turned into anything serious. Mostly because of Jack, and his way of greeting her dates, when they picked her up. She especially remembers this one time. Damien, a guy two years older than her, from Jess' class had asked her to the movies. She was 14 years old, and Damien had just turned 16, and had his drivers license. That was a big deal for Calleigh, she was thrilled when he asked her out. Putting on her nicest outfit, and spending way too much time in front of the mirror before he picked her up. And then Jack had greeted him in the door, holding his Glock-17. She can laugh about it now, but back then, she was beyond embarrassed. And Damien, poor Damien, he almost forgot his own name. And when Jack sent her off with "Have her home by ten. You know I was Delta Force, right?" Damien almost forgot which side of the car he was supposed to enter. It was safe to say that Damien never took her to the movies after that.

"Brock tells Jack no. I've heard him do that several times," Molly shoots in. She's right. Brock did tell Jack no. And Brock did argue with Jack. The two men were best friends, and they had been best friends for over 30 years. But they could argue and discuss. That went both ways. But it never turned into anything serious. Calleigh can't remember a single time that the two men really had a falling out. Sorta like the friendship she had with Molly and Jess. A friendship that'll last for life. "Why does your dad feel that you need a babysitter anyway?" Molly questions.

Calleigh shrugs. "Well, Brock has this new truck. And he was parked in our driveway when I came home yesterday. I didn't recognize the truck, and the garage door was open. So...," she stops for a second. Remembering how extremely sexy Brock looked in his work jeans with the cloth tucked down the side and the oil stains on his upper body. "I sorta called the police," she continues, trying to push that image to the back of her head, push it down that drawer where everything she doesn't want to remember or think about is. That drawer is starting to fill up now, which makes it harder to close.

Jess snorts, then she start to laugh, wiping away the beer that spurted from her nose and mouth from the snort. "Oh my God. I just got beer in my nose, but it was so worth it. You called the cops on Brock?" She continues to laugh so hard that if they didn't know her, it would be impossible to understand what she was saying.

"This is a story for the wedding for sure," Molly chimes in, giving Calleigh a friendly nudge on the shoulder.

"No, please no. I already had that image in my head. Do not mention this ever again, please," Calleigh begs, but she can't help but laugh. The thought of a wedding, any wedding makes her happy. Weddings were nice and beautifully romantic. And the aspect of her own wedding, she couldn't deny that brought a smile to her face.

"Aaawwww.. You imagine marr-," Jess starts, but Brock's voice from the portch door cuts her off.

"Pizza's here!" He informs, before he walks over to the outside dining area to set it up for them to eat.

A wave of yeasty freshly baked pizza dough, cheese, fresh vegtables, haljapenos and perfectly coocked meat hits their nostrils as Brock opens the boxes revealing the fresh goodness.

"The Mediterranean," Brock exclaims like he was intorducing a band or something. "I hope that's still your favorite," he questions, giving Calleigh a nervous look.

"Aaaaawww, he remembered your favorite," Jess chimes in, once again without thinking. Earning herself a nudge from Molly.

"What?" Brock asks. His heart beating out of his chest. Did Calleigh talk about him? Man, he wish he knew what she said. But, then again, the comment did come from Jess, and you could never know what was going on inside her head.

"Pizza, yum!" Jess hastely replies, grabbing a slice and takes a big bite "Mmmmm," she hums, giving Brock a big smile, hoping that her comment will be brushed off as tipsy talk, or just Jess being Jess.

"I... I'm gonna grab a beer, you want one?" Brock asks. He feels his face is burning up, and the sun is about to set, so it's definetly not from the sun. And a beer seemed like a perfectly good excuse to get away from the situation for a minute or two.

"Sure. Thanks Brock," Calleigh sends him a smile.

Her voice is like music to his ears. And her smile, it makes him go weak in the knees. Yes, he knows that it's Calleigh, but he can't deny these feelings. He just can't.

As soon as Brock dissapeares back inside. Molly looks at Jess. "You do know that when you talk, people hear you, right?" She questions, but with a wink, so that Jess'll know that she's not really mad. The three best friends had their own language that way. They could say almost anything to each other without it being seen as a negative thing. Maybe that was what had held them together all these years.

"I know, I know. But he remembered her favorite," Jess replies, placing her hands over her heart to show how sweet she think that was. "And did you see that he didn't order anything with garlic?" She continues, waving her hand to the three pizza boxes on the table. "Kissy, kissy," she teases, wiggeling her eyebrows as she friendly nudges Calleigh's shoulder.

Calleigh looks at the boxes Jess gestured to, then she looks at the house. The thought of kissing Brock fills her whole body. She can almost feel his lips on hers just by thinking about it. She bites her bottom lip as she turns her face towards her two friends.

"Just sayin'," Jess smiles. They don't get to talk anymore about how pizza without garlic was an invite to kissing before Brock returns with the beers.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

After a couple of hours, talking and drinking. Molly and Jess decides that it's time to leave. Molly says goodbye to Calleigh with a hug and a "Tell me how it goes." Jess is a bit more frisky and leaves with a hug and a "Go for it." If Calleigh is honest with herself, she has no idea how to do either of those things. She's not sure there'll even be any details to share with Molly at all. And to go for it? How does one do that?

As Calleigh folds up the blankets, she contemplates her options. Go to her room for the rest of the night, or ask Brock if he want's to watch a movie. No, the movie thing doesn't feel right. She takes a quick look at Brock. He's in the middle of collecting all the empty bottles and cutlery. Kiss Brock. Kiss those perfect lips that occationally curls up into this funny and teasing smile. Stop it, Calleigh, she angrilly tells herself. Her steps might be a bit to hard and angry when she walks beside the pool to put the blankets away. Stupid day, stupid Calleigh, Stupid Brock. She thinks to herself, but she can't help but turn and look at what Brock is doing. That's a move she ahouldn't have done, without realizing it, and without any kind of warning, Calleigh walks straight into the pool making a big splash.

Brock jumps from the splash, reacting instantly he runs over and jumps in the pool as well. Frantically moving away the now soaking wet blankets, before grabbing Calleigh getting her to the surface. "Are you okay? What happened?" He asks, his breath ragged. Jesus, how she scared him.

"I'm fine, I just took a wrong step. DAMNIT!" Calleigh replies. This is just fucking perfect. Making a total fool out of herself in front of Brock. That was just what was missing from this day.

Brock takes a step closer to her. His heart beating so rapidly he's sure he could pass out any second. "Are you sure you're okay?" He whispers, bringing his right hand up to cup her face. "Calleigh," he breathes out.

Calleigh doesn't know what to say or do. The feeling of Brock's big rough hand on her cheeck renders her speechless. All she can do is look at him, study every single contour on his face and neck. How his eyes looks at her, how he licks his lips, how his Adams Apple bobs when he swallows. His hand slowly moves, and two of his fingers glides in behind her ear. Calleigh takes a deep breath. This is it, she thinks. "Brock," she breathes out in a whisper.

When their noses touch each other, and Calleigh still hasn't moved away, Brock leans in and gently brushes his lips over hers. He can't tell if he's surprised, scared or both, when Calleigh parts her lips for him. But he's not letting this moment slip out of his hands. Slow and gentle he licks into her mouth, meeting her warm, soft tongue. Never in his wildest Dreams would he have imagined life to bring him to this place, to this moment. But it was without comparasing the best moment in his entire life.

Calleigh feels like she's floating. His lips are so soft and gentle on hers, and mixed with the soft sounds the water makes around them when they move closer, the whole experience is something she usually only see in movies. She has to touch him, she can't help herself. Slowly she lifts her arms placing them on his hips. His left hand moves around her, pulling her closer as he licks into her mouth again, letting his tongue slow dance with hers. Holy fuck, she's actually kissing him. She's kissing Brock.

Their breaths becomes more ragged as the kisses heats up. Brock moves both his hands behind Calleigh's back, pulling her into him. Her hands moves up his back and neck, before she lets them glide into his hair. That thick soft hair. Brock slowly moves his hands up her back, almost all the way up to her shoulders, pressing their bodies together. Her breasts pressed agains him. Sweet Jesus, it's becomming really hard not to let everything go. Just give all the fucks in the world about consequenses, and just..

Calleigh lifts her legs up, wrapping them around Brock's waist. The water makes it easier to move even if her body is shivering. She feels like she's in the middle of one of her favorite romance flicks. Everything is just so perfect. The light evening wind, blowing in the trees, like a whispered song. The lights in the pool surrounding them with a diamond like theme, and then, in the middle of it all. Her and Brock. Kissing.

Brock can feel the heat building up. He can feel himself wanting more. Not wanting to go all out right away he stops. Cradeling Calleigh's face in his hands while leaning his forehead into hers. Both of them are beathing heavily. Calleigh's legs slowly losens their grip around his waist. Sweet baby Jesus how his body reacts to her. "Are you okay?" He asks, his eyes locked on hers, searching them for answers.

"Y..Yeah. I... I'm okay," she breatlessly replies. "You?" She adds.

Suddenly it's like Brock snaps out of the dream and into reality. His brain is working again, realizing what he just did. "I... I shouldn't have done that," he confess. Gently letting go of her, he takes a step backwards, away from her. "Fuck, I shouldn't have done that," he repeats.

Calleigh's heart goes ice cold. He shouldn't have done that? Then why the hell did he? How can something be so magical one second, and then just rot the next? "W..Why?" She asks, her voice trembling, and she's sure she's about cry any second. Why did this always happen? Was she not good enough? Thinking back, she hadn't kissed that many boys. Brock was the third. Maybe she wasn't a good kisser? How could she know. Nothing ever lasted long enough for anyone to be in a possition to tell her.

The look on her face absolutely breaks Brocks heart. She looks defeated, nothing like the happy smiling Calleigh he knows and loves. All he wants to do is to kiss her again. But the thought of what that might lead to scares him, more than he cares to admit. "Come on," he says, offering his hand. He can't explaine how happy he is, when she takes it. "Let's get out of these wet clothes," he continues, guiding them both out of the pool. He continues to hold her hand, as they walk through the house and up the stairs. He doesn't want to let her go, so he holds thigh until they part ways outside her room, and he has to let it go.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

Calleigh leans her back against her bedroom door, after she close it behind her. Did this really happen? Did he actually kiss her? It's not a dream, is it? If she pinches her arm right now, is she going to wake up? And he shouldn't have done that? What was that all about?

She curses at herself for not defying her dad early on, for not going on more dates, for not explain for the few guys she went out with that her dad was a good guy, just overly protective. And that they shouldn't take it personal. That she's not more like Jess. That she hasn't slept with anyone yet. The virgin part never used to be something she cared about. She was raised well, taught to be careful. Since her parents were very young when they had her, they told her time and time again to be careful, to use protection. She never really understood why they kept saying that to her. One time was more than enough, and she didn't want to end up in the same situation as her parents. Her mom was only 18 years old when she was born, Jack was 20, and serving in Iraq. Not to mention the fact that they were never together, when she thinks about it she didn't even know if they ever had any kind of feelings for each other. Maybe she was just a result of a drunken night, after Jack got back from Basic Training. Stupid, that's what it was.

He shouldn't have done that? Calleigh can hear his voice in her head. God! Fine, he shouldn't have done that. Good, great, perfect. He could just go home then. She could manage this house on her own.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

Brock puts his hands on either side of the mirror in the guest bathroom. Looks at himself. Jesus, Brock. What the fuck are you doing? It's Jack's daughter, his baby girl, his pride and joy, his everything. Calleigh is was kept Jack alive that fatal October day in 2008. People keep telling him that it was him who saved Jack's life back then. He even got a medal for it. Specialist Rumlow was awarded the Distinguished Service Cross, for showing extraordinary heroism in combat. All of the people on their team was also awarded the Purple Heart. But there were only four of them left, who could actually accept the medal themselfs. What would Jack do, if he found out that Brock had kissed Calleigh, that Brock had these feelings for her? Brock can't find the answer to those questions. All he knows is that it won't be pretty. It won't be pretty at all. Should he continue down this path? Does he really want to put Calleigh through that mess?

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talia-rumlow · 6 days

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I'll take a ride on him 🥵😉

Cowboy you say? Save a horse ride a cowboy. 🥵😏 I absolutely love this man.

@nekoannie-chan @talia-rumlow @americasass81

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talia-rumlow · 17 days

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"AO3 doesn't need a "dislike" button"

Um, actually, it already has one. Depending on your specs, it might look a little different but over all it looks kinda like this:

You can find it at the corner of your screen, which corner is dependent on your layout.

Anyway, if you dislike a fic, you can hit this Dislike Button until the fic goes away. It really is pretty amazing actually.

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talia-rumlow · 17 days

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Home Sweet Home (AU Brock Rumlow/Original Female Character) Chapter Two

WORDCOUNT: 6574

TRIGGERS: Mentions of domestic abuse, rascism and sexism

HAPPY READING!

CHAPTER TWO - RED LIGHTS!

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The morning sun peeked through Calleigh's rose gold curtains, stirring her awake. With a displeased groan, she realized another scorching day likely lay ahead, perhaps even hotter than the 95°F heat of yesterday. Tossing aside her covers, Calleigh sat up in bed and surveyed her childhood bedroom, its pink hues and whimsical accents still soothing to her now. The intricate gold pattern on the pink walls, chosen at age 13, complemented the plush, baby pink carpet underfoot. Her royal blue queen bed anchored the west wall, facing east, with nightstands and lamps on either side. Almost the entire east wall was covered with closets, all painted in the same colors as the rest of the room. A little to the right, closer to the windows was the Rattan hanging egg chair that Calleigh, when she was around ten had demanded should go in her room, even though it was a lounge chair for outside use. And to her dad's surprise the chair still sat in that exact same spot to this very day. On the other side of the windows, on the west wall her dressing table sat by the only wallpapered section, its pink, butterfly print matching Calleigh's longtime affection for the color and winged creatures. She can't help but think back. How soothing it was to walk in here, when she came to visit her dad. How good it felt to sit down on the bed, and be home again. Even if she grew up living with her mom, she still lived here in Mansfield. So Mansfield and Texas were always home. And when her mom relocated them to New York all of that changed overnight. She never wants to go back there, she’s not even sure she ever wants to visit New York again. Calleigh takes a deep breath, forcing herself to think about better times. Family gatherings at the lake house for the 4th of July, block parties, birthday parties, family vacations with both her parents. All the memories of chasing butterflies by the lake house, and choosing pink everything seems really far away now.

Calleigh covers her face with her hands, then she lets out another displeased noise before she lets herself fall back on to the bed. She's gonna die in this heat, and a bikini is a piece of clothing she'll be caught dead in, before wearing in front of Brock. No bikini meant no poolside, and no poolside meant that she would be dead before this weekend ended. Brock. She thinks for herself. This is all his fault. Why did he have to come here and look all sexy and stuff? Brock. Stupid Brock.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

As he nears Jack's house, Brock slows to a jog and glances at his exercise watch. Having a place to stay along his usual running route made mornings easy for Brock, whether he was home or away. Workout clothes were always packed, no matter where he traveled overnight. Even on vacation, he needed a morning workout to energize him before breakfast. When his therapist Jillian had suggested that regular exercise might help him relax, Brock was skeptical at first. However, he decided to give it a try, and it helped tremendously - now he was hooked. Rain or shine, sickness or health, he had to take his morning run.

Jack's majestic house stood out from others on the street with its perfectly manicured lawn, oversized beige asphalt driveway framed by flower beds separating it from the lawn, and three garages reflecting Jack's undying love for vintage cars. The light gray exterior complemented the dark grayish-blue window details and carved roof accents. The house was way too big for Jack, but he was dead set on that house. Wanting Calleigh to have a big backyard and front lawn to play in, and of course there was the pool. Brock remembers that. Thinking back, he can remember the exact date Jack bought the house. Between tours, when Calleigh was about two years old, Jack became the proud owner of this house. Of course the house had gone through some serious upgrades over the years, but the memories still lived in the walls.

Bending his knees a little, leaning his palms on his thighs, trying to catch his breath again. It was harder to run in this heat, but not impossible. Feeling the coolness of his sweat running down his back, he quickly takes a look up towards the windows in Calleigh's room. His heart does that jump again. Wondering what she's doing right now. He takes a deep breath. Calleigh's room. Jesus, Brock. He thinks for himself. You gotta stop this. It's not just anyone, it's Calleigh. Shaking his head at himself, and dragging his hand through his hair as he walks the last meters up to the house.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

Calleigh puts the mascara back and takes a look at herself in the mirror. She looks older but her dressing table still looks like it did when she was 16. Funny photobooth pictures of her, Molly and Jess along the right side of the mirror, and some butterfly ornaments on the other side. In the middle, she looks at herself. 20 years old, back in her dad's house, back where she can see her friends every day, back to what she knows. But it still feels different. Very different.

Looking over her perfumes, she opted for one of the more subtle ones. A subtle rose scent. She doesn't want to make it too obvious that she wants to smell good for him. One spray on her neck, then one spray on her left wrist, before she rubs her wrists together, and then drags them over the back of her ears. This'll do. He's not into her like that anyway, so maybe she should just let it go. The problem is that she has no idea how to do that. Every time he's around her stomach swoops, and her heart goes into this unfamiliar rhythm. And she feels safe around him, and it's been a long time since she felt safe. Maybe that's it. Yeah, that's probably why. It has to be that.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

After a quick shower, Brock feels compelled to make a hearty breakfast for Calleigh, though he's not entirely sure why. He has an inexplicable desire for her to see him in a new light. Brock struggles to understand these sudden feelings as he rummages through the kitchen cabinets to prepare the meal.

The kitchen featured an open, airy layout like the rest of the house. A massive kitchen island anchored the space between the dining room to the south and the living room's TV area to the west. The island's intricate gray marble pattern matched the carpet under the living room furniture, creating a cohesive, relaxing look. The east wall offered ample counter space and storage with floor cabinets to accommodate every gadget. A modern marble backsplash and floating shelves displaying personal memorabilia gave this wall a sleek yet personal feel. The corner connecting the east wall to the north wall held the door leading into Jack's expansive pantry, a room overflowing with bright colors and mouth-watering smells from fresh produce and spices that made Brock hungry. Further along the North wall was the side by side stainless steel fridge, more counter space and storage, the massive cooktop with the stainless steel ventilator that gave the top shelves design that extra flair and then more counter space, all held together by that light marble backsplash. The massive kitchen island held a sitting area on the south side and on the north side was the kitchen sink, even more counter space, and underneath the north side stood the dishwasher and the stove, all with that stainless steel design. Brock enjoyed cooking in this kitchen. It was easy to navigate, everything was in reach from one place, making cooking easy, no matter how intricate the dish was. It was evident that Jack had designed this kitchen with that in mind.

After Brock had everything he needed on the counter he started to work on the breakfast. Cracking six eggs into the pan, he then adds the butter. Remembering how his mom taught him how to make scrambled eggs like this. As fond memories fill his head, he glances over the array or produce on the counter; a symphony of colors from ripe bananas, fresh strawberries, raspberries, and blueberries, salad, cherry tomatoes, cucumbers, milk, crème fraîche, spices and bacon. There's no question that he's making a hearty and filling breakfast for both Calleigh and himself. Brock places the bacon into another pan, he then adds some water, so the bacon will cook perfectly; another trick he learned from his mom.

When the eggs are done, he adds some crème fraîche for creaminess. Taking the eggs of the heat, he starts to cut up the fruit. This protein shake is also a part of his morning routine. It helps his body recover after his morning jog, and it's a better energizer than coffee. He hopes Calleigh will enjoy it as well. Thinking about her makes his heart spread that warm feeling again. Lost in his own thoughts about blond hair, kissable lips and gemstone eyes; he doesn't notice Calleigh coming down the stairs.

The smell of scrambled eggs and the sizzling bacon frying in the pan bring a smile to Calleigh's face as she descends the stairs. She watches Brock easily navigate the kitchen, carefully examining him as he puts berries, oatmeal, bananas, and milk into the blender before turning it on. The blender mixes the ingredients into a thick, milkshake-like substance. Brock gets out two glasses and pours the mixture into them.

“What are you doing?” Calleigh questions as she takes a seat at the kitchen island.

"Jesus!" Brock gasps, dropping the two glasses. They shatter on the floor, scattering purple liquid and glass shards in a chaotic pattern.

“Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you!” Calleigh rushes around the kitchen island, grabs a cloth and sits down on the floor to help clean everything up.

Brock kneels down as well, looking at Calleigh. “This Stealth thing you got going on… Is that on purpose or is it something you picked up in New York?” He asks, as Calleigh carefully tries to gather all the shards into one pile. “Hey, Calleigh, be careful, you might –”

“Ouch!” Calleigh gasps, shaking her hand, before putting the bleeding finger into her mouth.

“Cut yourself…” Brock continues. The sight of Calleigh sucking on her fingertip makes his stomach do an interesting swoop. He swallows thickly. “Come here,” he tells her, then he gets up and offers his hand to her.

Calleigh slowly takes his hand. The feeling she gets from his touch does something to her, even if it's just from his hand in hers. Brock gets the water running, then he puts Calleigh's bleeding finger under it. Gently brushing his thumb over the wound to see how bad it is. Calleigh swallows, carefully drinking Brock in. How his eyes examined her, he has that concerned look, as if he's hurt by her being hurt. Those small touches from his thumb makes Calleigh's knees go weak. And then her stomach does that jump again. She's had butterflies in her stomach before, but this is different. This is something else entirely.

“Doesn't look too bad,” Brock feels that his voice is shaking. Why does Calleigh have this effect on him? “You probably won't even need a bandaid,” he continues, lifting Calleigh's finger up to her mouth again. He's not exactly sure why, because her sucking on her finger makes his blood flow to places that aren't suitable for it to flow when it comes to best friends' daughters. “Just suck on it some more, your saliva will stop the bleeding,” he adds, clearing his throat. He feels like he's back in high school, making a move on his crush. And if he's completely honest with himself, he's confused by the fact that Calleigh seems to want him this close. Maybe he's just fooling himself. His track record with girlfriends isn't exactly paved with green flags and good choices.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

Jack drums his fingers on the massive oval table. Clearing his throat he looks over the other people around the table with him.

His corporate lawyer, Stephen Grayson sat to his right, with a stack of papers in front of him. Looking like his authoritarian self. Mr. Grayson had been the business’ corporate lawyer for the past 14 years. Jack trusted his judgment, and not only that Mr. Grayson was also Jessica's father. Given Calleigh, Molly and Jessica's friendship that had lasted ever since preschool. His friendship with Mr. Grayson and his wife were personal as well.

Mrs. Kensington, his HR representative sat to his left, along with three representatives from the business’ legal team. Katherine Kensington was approaching retirement, and was supposed to be in Seattle with the younger generation of the HR team. But given that this had turned into a little bit more than just a tiny legal crisis, Jack had to pull her from her Seattle duties, and bring her to Chicago, to clear up this messy situation.

Next to Katherine was Clint Barton; the dirty blonde 32 year old was a fairly new addition to the legal team. A talented legal adviser, who had a brilliant future ahead of him in the legal world. Jack was lucky to have a man like Clint Barton on his team.

On Clint's left side was Maria Hill, a brunette who was more fierce than her innocent look portrayed her to be. Maria could silence a room in seconds, with her brilliant legal jargon and her in depth knowledge about previous precedential cases. Maria was without a doubt a good lawyer to have by his side.

On Maria's left side was Virginia Potts, the blonde 47-year old who had earned herself the nickname ‘Pepper’, due to her highly unorthodox ways on resolving legal problems. No matter what the case was, Virginia always had a way to bring some Pepper into it. Jack had brought her with him to these negotiations for that exact reason.

On the other side of the table sat Kevin Saunders, with his lawyers. Mr. Sauders was a former employee who was now threatening to sue Rollins Delivery for misconduct and wrongful termination. The problem at hand was that Mr. Saunders had proposed a settlement that the company did not agree to. To be frank, Jack wouldn't agree to give Mr. Saunders anything. He had created a toxic work environment in their Chicago location, especially with his sexist and down right racist behavior. The termination was both rightful, needed and way overdue. This whole case was an unnecessary waste of Jack's time.

“My client has freedom of speech, the same way you have. You can't terminate people simply because they don’t share your views or your belief system,” Mr. Sauders lawyer says with a firm determined voice.

Jack takes a deep breath, forcing himself not to give Mr. Saunders a piece of his mind. The Rollins delivery business had always been known for their open-mindedness. Even when Jack's grandfather started the business in the aftermath of WWII, they had been ahead of their time when it came to work safety and employees rights.

Jack had grown up in a family where his mom was a democrat and his dad was a republican. Having grown up with daily discussions about various political issues. Jack had grown up to appreciate both parties. He based his living on the best from both sides. But he always kept politics out of his business life. Aside from the various national benefits and cooperations the business had arranged to help less fortunate families, military Veterans or orphans around the country, politics was never brought into the business.

“Racism is hardly a belief system,” Virginia replies firmly, leaning back in her chair and folding her arms over her chest. “Mr. Rollins here,” she continues as she gestures towards Jack. “Takes pride in hiring people based on their skills. Race, sexual orientation, religion or political standpoint has not nor will ever be a part of the hiring process at Rollins Delivery,” Virginia's voice remains firm and determined, she leans forward as she's talking. Her eyes fixed on Mr. Saunders. If Jack hadn't known that the guy had no conscience, he could have sworn he saw fear on his face.

"You've misunderstood, Miss Potts," Mr. Saunders' lawyer replies to Virginia's statement, his slick suit belying his aging body. "It was just a friendly joke between colleagues, not racism." The lawyer was a gentleman in his 50's with dark hair graying at the temples, brown eyes framed by bushy brows and lashes, and firm lips pursed in defense of his client.

Virginia starts to defend herself, but Mr. Grayson raises his hand, silencing her before she can speak. He pulls a paper from the stack on the table, slides it over to Mr. Saunders, and clears his throat. "Mr. Saunders, please read what's written on that document," says Mr. Grayson, his mild-mannered 49-year-old face taking on a stern lawyerly expression.

Mr. Saunders takes the document and quickly reads it over. Jack follows his movements as Mr. Saunders swallows thickly. “Stupid Nigros stinking up this office, no better than Mexicans. They probably can't even speak English,” Mr. Saunders reads, then he takes a break, and swallows again before he continues “and those Latina ladies that started last week. The only time I like them is when they're on their backs,” he continues, before he clears his throat. When he opens his mouth to say something, his lawyer gestures for him to stop talking.

“I need some time to discuss this with my client,” Mr. Saunders' lawyer informs.

“I don't see why not. We'll meet back here after lunch, to discuss this further,” Mr. Grayson replies. “And Mr. Saunders,” he continues. “I have more documents like that,” Mr. Grayson informs him as he gets up.

Jack watches as Mr. Saunders marched out of the office, with his entourage. He then takes a deep breath before he looks at Mr. Grayson. Without sharing any words on the topic, Jack understands that that comment about Latinas hit Mr. Grayson harder than he lets people know. His wife and Jessica's mom Eliana Lucía was Latina, and Jessica had inherited some of the Latina genes. A comment like that about a dear friend of Jack's and one of his daughter's best friends made Jack's blood boil. He could just imagine how Mr. Grayson must feel about it.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

After breakfast, Calleigh went back upstairs to her room, while Brock went out into the backyard with his phone and his laptop, to answer some emails and look over some work papers. The Rollins house became eerie quiet for a while, as they both did their own things to clear their heads.

Calleigh had changed into a bikini, underneath her white summer dress. Not sure if she would dare to actually jump in the pool. But it felt good to know that she could. She took a quick swing through the kitchen, picking up two water bottles from the fridge, before she headed outside.

The backyard is like a haven for home decor lovers, a place Jack has carefully crafted over the years. It's a showcase of his great taste and perfectionism. The patio boasts slick, light beige tiles, and to the west, the garden room dining area has evolved over time to welcome guests for various occasions. The built-in BBQ, with ample storage and counter space, and the bar, a relic from Jack and Brock's past adventures, stand as tokens of good times and hungover mornings.

On the east side, there's a lawn with a swing set and a sandbox that Jack got for Calleigh when she was six. In the middle of it all is the majestic pool, featuring four half-submerged sunbeds on the north side and four on the south. The blue tiles on the pool floor create a mesmerizing reflection of the sun, turning poolside relaxation into an eye-catching treat. When night falls, the pool lights up, setting a romantic and peaceful atmosphere.

Calleigh used to love slipping into her bikini for weekend hangouts with Molly and Jess, indulging in snacks and late-night gossip. But with Brock around, parading in a bikini now feels impossible.

“You want some water?” Calleigh asks, as she’s approaching Brock.

Brock jumps, almost dropping his phone. “Jesus, Calleigh! You gotta stop doing that, or else I'll die from a heart attack before this weekend ends,” he laughs as he takes the bottle of water from her hand. Once again his fingertips brushes over her skin.

“Sorry, I didn't know you were so jumpy,” Calleigh giggles. Then she turns around, walks over to the pool, checking the water out with her left foot. It would be heaven to jump in there right about now. She glances over at Brock, before deciding against stripping down to her bikini for the tenth time this morning.

“You know, I could teach you some new self-defense techniques,” Brock laughs. “Just so you don't have to scare people half to death all the time,” he continues with a playful smile.

“You think I need to learn self-defense?” Calleigh replies, tilting her head and folding her arms over her chest. “This is Mansfield, it's much safer than New York,” she continues, tilting her head a little more trying to look innocent.

“That, right there!” Brock snaps his fingers. “That's why you should learn self-defense. Pretty young girls like you. Self-defense should be mandatory,” he continues. “You don't know how many men in disguise you'll meet in your life. It'll be much easier for you if you knew how to handle yourself,”

Calleigh swallows, her heart goes ice cold. Even if she wanted to, she couldn't get a word out. She forces back her tears, tracing the joints on the patio tiles.

“Hey, Calleigh. You alright?” Brock questions, his brows pinched in concern, as he walks over to her. When Calleigh doesn't answer he continues. “Calleigh? I didn't mean that–”

“No, I'm fine,” Calleigh cuts him off. “I was just… you know, thinking,” she continues. Hoping that Brock won't ask any follow up questions.

Brock takes a few more steps towards Calleigh, carefully placing his hands on her shoulders. He feels a need to protect her, comfort her. It's obvious that something he said triggered her in some way, and he absolutely hates that. “I didn't mean it like that, Calleigh,” he starts, but without any clue whatsoever on how to end that sentence. The feeling of his palms against her naked shoulders make the words disappear on the journey from his mind to his mouth. Brock glances over her white summer dress. It has the same butterfly pattern as the shirt she wore yesterday. She always had this thing for butterflies. It was fascinating to him that that love for the winged creatures had stuck with her even into adulthood. Clearing his throat, as he frantically tries to find the right words. “Last year… err.. Me and some of the guys down at the VA, we… We had a class for women who had experienced domestic abuse. I just.. err.. Thought that.. Maybe I could teach you a thing or two,” he continues, trying to meet Calleigh's eyes to find out how she's reacting to what he just said. If she somehow figured out that his suggestion was more about him having an excuse to touch her rather than self-defense. He knew and Calleigh knew, that after four years living in New York, she already knew how to handle herself.

“Okay, teach me,” Calleigh smiles innocently. It's safest to switch subjects. And maybe get to be a little bit closer to Brock. It's okay, right? When he's teaching her self-defense. There's no harm in that… Right?

Brock looks at Calleigh, inquisitively raising a brow. “Re.. err” Brock clears his throat. “Really?”

“Mhmm..” Calleigh replies, still flashing him her most innocent smile, and tilting her head.

Brock clears his throat again. How will he get through this? Is she flirting with him too? His head is a big mess of wires right now, all of which leads to Calleigh.

“Err.. Right. If someone comes at you like this..” Brock informs, taking a step towards Calleigh.

“Then I have my pepper spray,” Calleigh replies, lifting her hand mimicking using the spray.

“Yeah, I imagine you will,” Brock smiles, raising his brows. “But what if your attacker does this?” He continues. Grabbing Calleigh's wrist, then he spins her around and pins both of her arms in front of her. Pulling her close to him in a tight grip. The feeling of her body this close to his makes his blood flow to his crotch. Shit, he thinks. This might have been a bad idea. “What will you do then?” Brock asks, taking a deep breath letting it out slowly. Forcing his body to stop reacting the way it does.

Calleigh gasps from Brock's sudden move. The feeling of his strong arms around her, immobilizing her, sends shivers down her spine, and her stomach does that jump again. They're so close she can feel his chest rising when he's breathing, and smell the earthy spice from his perfume. His chest rises, before Calleigh feels him letting it out slowly, his warm breath tickles her ear. “I..I don't know…” she lets out. “Prepare to die?” She continues, with a little nervous laugh attached to it.

“Dying wasn't exactly part of my plan,” Brock chuckles. “Though the heat might take a few years off,” he continues. “Now what would you do to get out of my grip?” He asks. Ambivalent as to if he wants Calleigh to take her time, so he can hold her longer, or if she should be quick, so he can let go.

Calleigh swallows. To have Brock this close, it's intoxicating. And despite her lack of experience, it does feel like Brock likes to be this close to her. “Like this?” Calleigh asks, before she tugs her arms down, and out of Brock's grip.

“Bad move, sweetheart,” Brock replies. Grabbing both her arms, bending them before pinning them behind her back, forcing Calleigh to bend forward. “Now you're in a position you really can't get out of,” he shakily adds. Then he lets her go. Having her behind pressed against his groin is doing things to him. Things he really doesn't want Calleigh to know about. This is wrong, so, so wrong. “Try again?” He finally asks, when he feels that his voice is back to normal.

“Mmmhmm,” Calleigh mumbles, nervously biting the inside of her cheek. There's gotta be some sort of unwritten rule about things like this. Brock is her dad's best friend. Shake it off, Calleigh. Shake. It. Off. She thinks for herself, unknowingly shaking her hands, as she once again lines herself up, back against Brock, waiting for his arms to wrap around her.

“Okay…,” Brock breathes out, as he once again wraps his arms around Calleigh. “Now, yank your elbows up and outwards as hard and as fast as you manage,” he continues.

“Won't I hurt you?” Calleigh asks. The feeling of Brock's breath on her neck sends shivers through her body, all the way out to her toes and fingertips.

“Well, that's kinda the idea sweetheart,” Brock chuckles. “That's how you'll get away,” he continues.

Calleigh swallows. For a split second she's taken over by an inexplicable urge to lean her head back against Brock's shoulder. She feels so safe in his embrace, and he smells so good. A spicy earthy perfume, that fits him just perfect. Pulling herself together, she quickly yanks her elbows up and outwards, like Brock told her to. “Like this?” She asks.

With her sudden move, Brock's arms lose their grip around her for a split second.

“Now you can move away from me, if you're fast enough,” Brock informs. “Then you can use your pepper spray, which will give you a chance to get away,” he continues, then he clears his throat. Once again he has to tell himself that this is Calleigh. Jack's daughter.

Calleigh took a deep breath, reluctant to move away from him. It had been ages since she felt this safe. “But what if you’re too strong? What if the elbow trick doesn’t work?” she asked, wanting to prolong this moment, to feel his sturdy presence against hers. It felt so secure, despite the fact that he was supposed to be practicing an attack on her.

“Well,” Brock chuckled nervously, taking a deep breath. “You actually have a lower center of gravity than me, so you could easily throw me over your shoulder,” he explained. “But we won’t try that now,” he added quickly, still caught up in the scent of her rose perfume, which almost hypnotized him. His heart raced oddly, a mix of slow and fast beats that left him unaware that he was still holding her.

“So, You've got me? I'm doomed?” Calleigh pressed on, her heart racing. Brock’s breath and facial hair tickled her cheek and neck, sending waves of warmth through her body. Her stomach fluttered in a completely new way.

“You’re not doomed, Calleigh. You can still get out of this. It’ll just be a bit tougher,” Brock assured her, struggling to keep his composure. The warmth emanating from Calleigh made it difficult to focus. “Now, put your right leg behind my right leg, then push my leg forward while moving your body backward,” he instructed.

“But won’t you lose balance?” Calleigh questioned.

“I’ll hold my ground,” Brock whispered in response, his concentration wavering.

Calleigh carefully places her foot behind Brocks before pushing his leg forward and her body backwards.

“Whoa,” Brock almost yells; trying to regain his balance he grabs Calleigh a little tighter. “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he continues, as he gets more and more out of balance. Letting go of Calleigh is a no go by now, they'll both hit the water no matter what he does. This was definitely not part of his plan. He can't stop them from going into the water fully clothed. The only thing he can do now is to make sure Calleigh isn't hurt in any way.

The second Calleigh realizes that they're going to hit the water,her heart skips a beat. And for some weird reason she's smiling inside. This could be a fun story to tell. Something she and Brock can maybe laugh about later on. Something they share, just her and Brock. She's fascinated by the fact that she can actually have this many thoughts run through her brain in just two seconds.

For the split second they're in free fall before they both hit the water, Calleigh lets out a startled scream.

Calleigh could've sworn she heard a thump, something hitting something. Is she okay? She's in this state in her mind where none of the wires are connected. She's not even sure if she knows what's up and down in the water. Calleigh's hands start to desperately search the water; for Brock, for the surface,for anything. Then suddenly she's pulled up to the surface by Brock's strong arms. “Are you okay?” He asks, concerned.

“Errr..,” Calleigh replies. Suddenly very aware that her dress is in a thin white fabric, that's probably see through now. Slowly she lowers her gaze, nervous. Perfect. Her soft pink push-up bikini top is totally visible through her dress. Why? Just why did she chose a pink bikini? At least it's not ugly. But she feels exposed anyway. And with Brock there. Jesus, how's this possible?

“Sorry! I didn't mean for that to happen,” Brock tells her. His gaze follows Calleigh's. And Calleigh's arms slowly cover her up. But it's too late. “Sorry, I didn't mean to look–,” Brock clears his throat. “I mean I didn't look,” he continues.

“I'm… I'm just gonna go.. err..” Calleigh almost stops mid-sentence. Realizing that Brock's shirt is sticking to his abs, and that is a sight for sore eyes. She could just strip out of her dress now, Brock already saw her bikini anyway. Her face is probably just as red as the stripes in the flag, but she's determined to not make this any worse “I looked!” She hollers over her shoulder as she exits the pool, and strips out of her dress and hangs it over a chair for it to dry off in the sun. Hopefully this'll make this whole awkward thing a bit funny, and maybe Brock is embarrassed too. Maybe he won't even notice the red in her face if he's embarrassed. She could escape up to her room, and stay there. But rationally she knows that that's not the best option; she can't hide from Brock. That'll most certainly make this situation even more awkward.

Brock looks down on his white t-shirt sticking to his abs. He mentally chuckles a bit for himself about this whole situation. Turning his eyes back towards Calleigh; his heart jumps as she pulls the dress over her head. Her slightly toned shoulder blades move as she gets the dress off. Brock can't help but drink in her almost naked body. Her flawless hourglass figure curves in all the right places. Young, undoubtedly, but still a woman. Brock swallows as Calleigh turns around. Her breasts are being held up by her soft pink push-up bikini-top; the shape is like a perfectly drawn heart. The water sparkles on her tanned skin. Brock’s eyes move further down her body. Down her stomach reaching the butterfly belly-button piercing, for a second Brock feels like a teenager again; checking out a girl’s belly-button piercing.

“What are you looking at Big Guy?” Calleigh teases, as she dives into the pool. Might as well go down that route, when things are the way they are. No need to make things worse. Nothing is going to happen anyway, so why can’t she tease him a bit?

Brock watches as Calleigh's body glides through the water. Did she just flirt with him? Was it flirting? Should he flirt back? Maybe Calleigh actually does want him to make a move. The biggest question however; should he make a move? The repercussions could be enormous, life altering even. Not only is there a 26 year age gap between him and Calleigh. He's also Jack's best friend, which in turn means that he's been like a non related uncle to Calleigh her entire life. At the same time, something inside him tells him that he can't let this go. That this might be it. But it's Calleigh. She's like the last person on the entire planet he ever thought he'd fall for. He reaches into the water, grabbing the hem of his t-shirt before pulling it over his head and tossing it on to the tiles that surrounds the pool. The shirt hits the tiles with a typical wet thump. Then he takes a deep breath, before making his way towards Calleigh.

Calleigh puts her arms up by the side of the pool. Maybe she should get out. God, she acctually flirted with Brock. He must think she's so stupid. Maybe he even looks at her like she's still ten years old. Jesus, this is so embarrassing. But then again, he didn't say anything about it, and he was the one who initiated the whole self defence scene. Calleigh feels shivers running down her spine when she thinks about how his breath felt on her. Nope, she's definetly not getting out of the pool. At least she'll wait until Brock gets out. For all she knows, maybe he already did get out. Arrgh.. Screw it. She leans back to relax on her back in the water for a bit. But instead of her back slowly gliding in the water she hits Brock.

"Hey, Calleigh! Everything allright? You seem a bit distracted," Brock asks, as he helps her get back on her feet.

"Yeah, everything is peachy. It's weekend, the sun is shining, I'm relaxing in the pool. You know, peachy," she replies.

"Okay then. I.. I mean I just got the feeling that something was wrong, that's all," Brock tells her, as he turns to leave. He's not going to push, that's for sure. If she feels the same he'll probably get a sign sooner or later.

"You're bleeding," Calleigh gasps, grabbing his right arm. "Did you hit yourself when we fell in the water?" She continues. Letting her fingers carefully glide over his upper arm.

"Nah, it's nothing. Doesn't even hurt," he replies. It doesn't hurt. But he is bleeding. Not too much, but it should maybe be looked at. At least it'll bruise. But, given his line of work, he's used to that.

"Are you sure?" Calleigh's voice is filled with concern. And she's still touching his upper arm.

Brock looks at her fingers carefully caressing his arm by the wound he got. Then he looks at Calleigh. His heart is beating out of control, almost to the point he feels it's making waves in the water. "Calleigh," he breathes out.

"What?" Calleigh softly replies. His skin is so soft. And she finds that weird given his physic. Why is she thinking about this now? She moves her face To look into his eyes. They're so damn beautiful, and she can't understand why she never noticed that before. Why is Brock's eyes suddenly filled with the sun, the moon and all the stars?

Brock swallows, those green eyes staring back at him. They're the most beautiful eyes he's ever seen. And with the sun, they sine like gremstones. Should he do it? Should he try to kiss her? Just get it over with? She might kiss him back, but she might also push him away and call him a perv. What's the chance? 50/50? 70/30? Come on, Brock. This never used to be a problem before. Just an inch closer. Just an inch. To see if she moves away. Slowly, one tiny inch at a time.

Without realizing it, they're both moving closer, incy by inch. It's like the world around them dissapeares, all the sounds, everything. It's just them. Just Calleigh and Brock.

When they're just an inch apart, barking sounds from the backdoor to the garage.

"KILO!" Molly shouts, as Kilo yanks the dog leash out of her hand, and runs towards the pool. Kilo, a Labrador Golden Retriver mix, with a personality that suited Molly and Texas perfectly. He was playful and strong minded, if Kilo wanted something, he did it. Like jump in the pool. No matter how many times they told him not to, he jumped in there. Jack had at one point bought a kiddy pool for Kilo to use, but not even that helped, so Jack had gracefully admitted defeat, and given up. Now Kilo was a regular guest in the pool on days like this.

"Molly!" Calleigh's voice is muffled by the splash as Kilo not so gracefully hits the surface of the water.

"Guess it's you and me then, buddy!" Brock tells Kilo, as he watches Calleigh exit the pool. "You don't by any chance have any tips for getting a girl to like you, do you?" He continues, in a whisper. Careful so that Calleigh doesn't hear it.

<--------- Previous Chapter

Next Chapter ------------>

@nekoannie-chan @late-to-the-party-81 @ladysif8 @here4thefanfics @rip1009

#brock rumlow fanfiction #brock rumlow #rumlow #rumlowfiction #fanfiction #jack rollins #fan fiction #fanfics #Youtube

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talia-rumlow · 18 days

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AO3 Comments are SO SO SOOOOOOO important because you can only leave Kudos ONCE. You add to the hit count ONCE (every 24 hours).

So whenever someone updates their fic, the ONLY way an author knows who their regular readers are is if they comment on each chapter. And we WANT to know who's still reading.

Believe it or not, some of us think about the name that pops up constantly in the comments and go "omg I can't wait to see what they think of THIS SPECIFIC SCENE cuz I KNOW they'll say something about it!!!"

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talia-rumlow · 18 days

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I'd give my life and soul for this man. I'd go into HYDRA even if I knew what it was, just to be close to him. RumLOVE ❤️

Such a good looking bad boy.

Love to hate him.

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talia-rumlow · 20 days

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Jack Rollins Masterlist!

Calling all Rollins/Callan fans. Here it is, my collection of Jack Rollins stories. Enjoy!

HOME SWEET HOME

READ IT HERE!

Jack Rollins was only 19 years old, and about to do his first tour in Iraq when he got a girl pregnant. Determined to serve his duty as a Soldier for the US Armed Forces, he didn't really get to have a stable relationship with his daughter until she turned 5 years old. He never had the best relationship with her mother either, but he still went out of his way to make sure his daughter was safe and taken care of.

Calleigh Lewis Rollins was born into money. Her father Jack Rollins was the third generation of Rollins in Rollins Delivery, and her mother Genevieve Lewis was first in line to take over the Lewis Jewlery line. Calleigh had just turned 20 years old, when she moved back into her dad's house in Mansfield, Texas. Carrying with her secrets from the four years she spent with her mother in New York. Secrets she promised she'd never tell.

Brock Rumlow had been Jack's best friend since childhood. Even if he was six years older than Jack, the two men shared a strong friendship. They were both military veterans after serving tours together in both Iraq and Afghanistan.

The strong bond Jack and Brock shared could never be broken.

Or could it?

@nekoannie-chan @late-to-the-party-81 @rip1009 @ladysif8

#jack rollins #fanfics #fan fiction #fanfiction

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talia-rumlow · 20 days

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Brock Rumlow Masterlist!

All my Brock Rumlow stories in one place. Can it be any better than that?

HOME SWEET HOME

READ IT HERE!

The strong bond Jack and Brock shared could never be broken.

Or could it?

@nekoannie-chan @late-to-the-party-81 @rip1009 @ladysif8

#brock rumlow #rumlow #rumlowfiction #rumlowsmut #age gap story #age gap smut

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talia-rumlow · 20 days

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Home Sweet Home (AU Brock Rumlow/Original Female Character) 18+ Chapter One

WORDCOUNT: 6267

TRIGGERS: Age Gap, 911 Call, Police

CHAPTER ONE - SOMETHING JUST LIKE THIS!

youtube

The blistering Texas sun beamed down on the pavement, smothering downtown Mansfield in an oppressive heat wave. The cloudless sky stretched on in an expanse of clear blue, offering no respite from the sweltering 93°F temperature. The only escapes from the relentless rays were the shady trees in the parks or the cool relief of air conditioning indoors.

As Calleigh locks the office door, she feels the heat radiating in from outside. Having worked in her dad's delivery business for a little over three months now, she easily navigates the building, double-checking that everything is secured for the weekend. Approaching the exit, the intense heat worsens. Calleigh lifts her shirt, revealing a cute pink butterfly piercing on her belly button - a small act of rebellion she got after her first visit with her dad following her mom's move to New York with a new boyfriend. Pushing aside thoughts of New York and the boyfriend she detests, Calleigh fans her exposed stomach with her shirt in a futile attempt to withstand the heat on her way out, silently thanking the universe for Fridays and weekends.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

Brock backs his day-old black Chevrolet Silverado 1500 as close to the garage door as possible. Searching for the key to turn off the engine, he suddenly remembers this truck has a keyless start/stop system—all he has to do is push a button. Brock chuckles a bit of his lack of knowledge about his new car, before he makes a mental note to get used to the new feature.

Though the car met all his needs, Brock struggled to adjust to its high-tech features. While he wanted to embrace the smart house, smart phone, smart car lifestyle, at heart he was old-fashioned. To Brock, a car should just be a car, and a phone just a phone. These days, cars were becoming more like living spaces, packed with extra gadgets and gizmos; and those new phones were multipurpose devices that served not only as phones, but also as calendars, alarm clocks, cameras, journals, and computers. He almost felt that he was too old to keep up, with his 46 years, Brock started to feel that his youth had passed him by long ago.

Placing his toned muscular forearm on the center console; Brock looks over the dashboard. The car's built-in entertainment system was bigger than his nephew's tablet. The right side of the screen informed him that the temperature was a scorching 94°F and climbing; moving over to the left side, where he could decide on what radio station to listen to, operate the car's cameras, use the built-in GPS system, connect his phone via Bluetooth and a bunch of other stuff he'd probably never use.

A quick glance at the clock told him that he had to get to work. He had promised Jack ages ago that he would fix the Oil leak, change the filter, the camshaft belt and do an overall service on the car. But the parts he needed weren't always easy to come by. So here he was, grabbing his mechanic's creeper off his truck, to finally do the job; four months behind schedule.

Brock swings open the garage door, revealing the stunning 1967 Chevy Impala. The sleek black exterior gleams in the sunlight, resembling a rare diamond. Despite its age and need for repairs, the Impala exudes charm, blending masculinity and nostalgic charm. Like Brock, Jack shares a fondness for vintage cars, true American muscle cars such as this. The old cassette player still hums within, and Jack hasn't altered a single detail on the car. There's a palpable sense of trust between them as Brock cherishes the responsibility and level of trust Jack has placed in his hands.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

Calleigh frowned at her license photo. At only 20 years old, she had not yet grown comfortable with her appearance. She felt her nasal bone was too thick, making her eyes seem too far apart. Makeup helped camouflage this to some extent, but no amount of makeup could alter her height. At 5'10", she was taller than average, which made finding flattering clothes a challenge. She often wished she had her mother's petite 5'3" frame, having clearly inherited her stature from the Rollins side of the family. While she could live with her blonde hair, she wished it had more volume. Her lips were too pale and thin for her liking, though makeup could fix that as well. Unlike her mother's ocean blue eyes, Calleigh had green eyes, another Rollins family trait. Glancing in the rearview mirror, Calleigh took stock of herself - blonde hair, blonder in summer; green eyes; lightly pinked lips with distinctive dips cupping her nose; a high forehead. She was a harmonious blend of both parents.

Calleigh connects her phone to the car's entertainment system, the little screen in the middle of the dashboard makes it easy to navigate through spotify to find her song, Coldplay and The Chainsmokers with Something Just Like This. It’s a song that seems fitting for her life right now.

Ever since she moved back to Texas, and Mansfield, she felt like her whole life was already planned for her.

She would get a seat at the board of directors alongside her dad and her grandfather in the delivery business on her 21st birthday in December. It would give her a comfortable and financially steady life, but very few choices.

With an exasperated sigh, Calleigh places her purse in the passenger seat. The black leather seat had small stitched details, a lighter shade of burnt orange in color, along the sides, giving it a more luxurious look.

When her dad had offered to buy her a new car, Calleigh had opted for the Mini Cooper, a car she felt was more suitable for her needs. But Jack had his mind made up on a 2020 Chevrolet Impala, black of course, to have it blend in with the other cars in the garage. After a bit of discussing back and forth, Calleigh had just given up. A car was a car, and she needed one. Although she would have given almost anything to have a convertible right now.

She was thankful for the car, it was nice and spacious with its four doors and five seats, it had room enough for both Calleigh and her friends.

The trunk suited all of her needs with enough room for both grocery shopping and a shopping spree at the local mall. The black leather seats with the burnt orange stitching offered comfort with their user friendly adjustment mechanism. The center console, designed with faux wood, held a spacious storage compartment and a double cup holder, one of which now held the almost empty Venti iced caramel latte that Calleigh got from Starbucks this morning.

The comfortable, highly equipped steering wheel made it easy to answer the phone, change songs, adjust the volume, as well as the heat in the winter. The 2020 Chevy Impala did indeed deliver a luxurious and comfortable driving experience.

She grew up in a well off family, both of her parents came from money. Both the Rollins Delivery Service and the Lewis Jewelry line had been around for generations, earning themselves a good reputation and money to live a more than comfortable life. Despite all of this, Calleigh had never seen herself as spoiled. She knew nothing came for free, that she had to work hard in school, and she had to earn her allowance. Her parents, even if they were never together, had made sure of that.

The drive from downtown Mansfield to South Pointe was roughly 10 to 15 minutes long, depending on traffic. But in this heat, Calleigh feels that it took two hours. Her shirt is sticking to her back, and her throat screams for water to the point where she's about to chug the last of the latte that had been sitting in her car all day. All she wanted was to change into a bikini and spend the rest of the weekend relaxing by the pool in the backyard.

Despite having to spend the weekend alone; without her two best friends. Jessica was preparing for her undergraduate degree, and Molly had been assigned to take a HR Masterclass in Seattle. Her dad was away as well, having a tiny legal crisis in Chicago, he had decided to fly over there himself, to oversee the negotiations. Calleigh looked forward to a weekend by the pool.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

As Calleigh approaches the house, she notices the black Pickup truck that's backed all the way into the now open garage door. Not a truck she recognizes, and they rarely had any other unannounced visitors other than her grandparents or Brock from time to time. But Brock was on a work spree these days. Calleigh hadn’t even seen him since she moved back home; which was strange, because in summertime he practically lived in the garage. Fixing her dad’s various vehicles, as well as his own; whilst sharing some beers with her dad. It was almost so that she thought that they had fallen out. But the legal crisis in Chicago had occupied her dad for quite some time, so that might be it. The two men simply didn't have time for social get-togethers these days. Even Friday Night BBQ was put on hold for the time being.

The Friday Night BBQ was one of Calleigh's most cherished traditions. Her dad and Brock manned the grill while she and her friends frolicked in the pool or yard. As they aged, they took on more duties. Molly routinely brought her signature focaccia and salad— a recipe Calleigh unsuccessfully tried recreating time and time again. Jess handled dessert; her Texas-style peach cobbler was unrivaled, the moist and buttery delight created a sweet symphony on her pallads, and topped with a scoop of peach ice cream, it became unresistable no matter how much anyone had for dinner. Occasionally Molly's mom and Jess's parents joined, packing the expansious backyard with joy, nostalgia, and hearty laughter.

With the memories of time well spent, playing like a movie in her head, Calleigh drives past the house at 2 mph as she examines the truck that's parked in front of the garage. A black Silverado, newer model. Having grown up with a father like Jack, with his fondness for cars, she's picked up a thing or ten. Of course it also helped that she spent numerous afternoons at the Rumlow garage in her early teens, when her dad worked late, or her mom spent time with that new boyfriend.

Calleigh's body goes cold when she remembers the 67 Impala in the garage. Jack's favorite car. He spent years finding the perfect one. If someone is trying to steal it, or parts from it; Jack would go ballistic. And given his military background, it'll not be pretty. For a second Calleigh feels like a six-year old, not knowing what to tell her parents when she broke a glass or spilled water on her bed.

Though South Pointe was a gated community, there were no guards on site. To enter, you needed either a code from a resident or a chip that automatically opened the gate. With the recent expansions and the constant flow of workers going in and out, it was easy for anyone to get in, whether they belonged there or not. And with a truck like the new Silverado, you could easily drive in, fill the spacious bed with whatever you were stealing; and then drive back out, without anyone raising a brow.

Calleigh takes a deep breath, weighing her options. Should she call the police or confront the person in the garage herself? Having spent four years in New York, she knows how to handle situations and always keeps pepper spray in her purse, even in Mansfield, where crime rates are lower. Despite the safer environment, she's aware that appearances can be deceiving, and anyone could pose a threat.

Turning her car at the end of the street, Calleigh retrieves her phone from her purse, its cute pink cover with butterflies and faux diamonds contrasting with the ominous atmosphere she envisions in the garage. Without overthinking, she dials 9-1-1.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” a calm female voice responds after a few rings.

“I'm.…I think someone is breaking into my house,” Calleigh says, suddenly unsure if 9-1-1 was the right choice.

“Are you in the house, ma’am?” The voice persists. Calleigh hesitates, considering whether to hang up and face the intruder alone. “Ma’am, are you inside the house?” the voice repeats.

“N..no. I.. I'm outside.. In my car. I don't know what to do. I… I..” Calleigh is desperate, on the verge of crying. She can't remember the last time she didn't want to be home alone. But this is one of those times.

“What's your name ma'am?” The voice continues, still in that calm tone.

Calleigh takes a breath “Calleigh Lewis Rollins.” She replies, with a shaky breath. Trying to calm down her beating heart.

“Do you know if they're armed?” The woman on the phone continues. Calleigh feels that ice cold feeling in her stomach. Armed? She didn't think about that at all. What if they're armed, what does she do then?

“I don't know. I don't know!” She shakily replies. Her voice on the verge of breaking. Without realizing that she does, she reaches for her pepper spray. The little 3 inch pink container designed as a keychain was easy to carry around, easy to use and it had a neutral design, which made it perfect to carry around for self defense.

“Calleigh, calm down. You're going to be fine. I'll dispatch a unit to your location. What's your address?” The voice continues in a calm soothing manner, which helps to calm Calleigh down.

“2837 Chandler Court” Calleigh replies, happy that she remembered the address. She hasn't lived here too long, and in this particular situation it's things like that that usually slips.

“Do you have any firearms in the house?” Another question about guns. It's not that Calleigh wasn't used to them, it was just that in this situation, guns didn't feel like a safe topic. And this is Texas, everyone has firearms.

“Y..Yeah, we have some. Seven or ten maybe.” Calleigh replies as she does a mental runthrough of the house, trying to remember where Jack keeps all his guns. The gun cabinet in the living room, the hide away cabinet in his bedroom, and the safe in the….. garage. Calleigh takes another shaky breath as she imagines some bad ass crocks breaking into that safe.

“I've dispatched a unit to your location. They'll be there in about ten minutes. And Calleigh, please lock the doors, and stay in the car until the unit arrives.” The voice on the phone informs her, still calm and collected. Calleigh can't believe how they manage to be this calm with people in shock, pain, rage, people who're scared out of their minds. But now, today, she's extremely thankful for it.

Clenching the container with pepper spray in her hand, Calleigh almost whispers into the phone “Yes. Thank you.”

“Calleigh, please stay in the car.” The lady on the phone says again. But Calleigh can hardly hear it. She flips the top of the container in her hand, as she hangs up the phone, and slowly exits the car.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

With half an eye on the wrench around the unwilling screw, and half an eye on the bucket for the oil, Brock tries to get the screw to give. His left foot firmly planted on the concrete garage floor to steady himself, as he struggles to get the screw loose. His biceps flexing, the veins on his arm popping. His teeth clenched in concentration, and the sweat dripped from his forehead.

Brock applies just a bit more muscle power, determined to get the screw to give. The sweat on his hands makes him lose his grip around the wrench. His hand flies up, hitting the car, as the wrench falls to the floor, creating an echo around the oversized garage. “Aaaa, fuck,” he almost screams, as he shakes his hand to try to ease the pain.

The sound of metal hitting concrete, the echo that follows and the screaming make Calleigh jump. Her heart is beating out of her chest, and that ice cold feeling in her stomach comes back. Yes, the 9-1-1 dispatcher told her to lock the doors and stay in the car. But ten minutes? They should know how much damage that can be done within ten minutes. She had to leave the car. But with the screaming and the noise. Maybe she should've stayed put. Anyway, it's too late for that now.

Calleigh places her thumb on the top of the pepper spray container. “Stop what you're doing I have a weapon!” She yells, surprised by how firm her voice is, she lifts the container, ready to attack.

Brock jumps under the car from the voice yelling, something about a weapon. Startled, he tries to sit up, but since he's under the car, sitting up only serves for him to bang his head against the car. “Fuck! Shit! Don't shoot, I'm unarmed!” He yells back in a haste. Quickly moving the creeper, so he can stand up.

Getting up faster than he's ever done before, raising his arms to show whoever it is that he is indeed unarmed. “Don't shoot! I'm un-,” when he sees Calleigh he stops for a second “armed….” He breathes out in surprise at the woman standing before him. Beautiful. That's the only thing he can say about her; Silently in his mind of course.

Calleigh carefully drinks in the man in front of her. His well-worn jeans sit comfortably on his hips, a cloth tucked into the right side. His V-shaped lower abdomen is unlike anything she's seen before, leading up to a six-pack and impressive pecs that could be straight out of a commercial. The oil stains and sweat on his upper body add a sexy touch. Moving upward, she notices strong pecs lightly dusted with chest hair. As she lifts her face, broad-toned shoulders barely register in her mind compared to the veiny upper arms that make her knees feel weak. Before fully revealing the rest, she takes a breath and discovers a strong jawline, dark facial hair, followed by soft, playful, and kissable lips, a broad nose perfectly placed on his flawless face. As her gaze reaches further, she encounters two soft hazel brown eyes adorned with dark lashes and brows. Calleigh's heart skips a beat, and in surprise, she breathes out, "Brock?”

Brock had never seen such beauty and grace. Calleigh had blossomed into a stunning woman, with shoulder-length blonde locks with a few curls framing her face. Her soft pink lips were slightly parted in surprise, complementing her petite nose and accentuating the delicate curves of her upper lip. Her emerald eyes shone like gemstones, undoubtedly a Rollins family trait.

Brock swallows, his heart does a jump in his chest. “Calleigh?” His voice carried a bit of surprise. He remembered Calleigh as a rebellious 16-year old, getting belly-button piercings without permission. He did not expect this God sent beauty. And he's not sure how he should react. This is Jack's daughter. He shouldn't feel his heart jump like this because of her.

Jesus Christ, Calleigh thinks for herself. Did she just think about Brock's lips as kissable? Brock Rumlow? Her dad's best friend. Naha, no way. Take it back, take it back, take it back; she repeats the three words again and again in her head, like a mantra. It's all in vain, when Brock's lips slowly curl up into a half smile. His upper lip on the left side curls up, revealing his teeth. Calleigh feels drawn to it. It's like magnetism, an invisible force that's dragging her towards him. She swallows in a desperate attempt to keep her heart out of her throat. It's Brock, Calleigh! He's over 40 years old, and your dad's best friend; the voice in her head screams to her at this point.

"What errr..." Brock takes the cloth from his jeans and wipes his hands on it before continuing. "What are you doing here?" he questions, his eyes traveling over her. Her short-sleeved white shirt reveals the small dips by her collarbone, and Brock's fingers twitch as his mind imagines gliding his fingertips over them. He knows he shouldn't feel this way. Why does he feel this way? Further down the shirt lays tight over her breasts, Brock swallows from the sight of them. Jesus, get it together, Brock; he silently curses at himself.

“I live here.” Calleigh replies, before he can take in the rest of her. She rubs her hand on her neck. The garage offers shade and a living temperature, but she can still feel the heat from outside. And looking at Brock all sweaty and sexy isn't helping at all. “What are you doing here?” She continues, she knows that's a stupid question. He was on his creeper, under the car when she came in, and the oil stains are also a big giveaway.

“I'm fixing your Dad’s car,” Brock answers her question with a little smile, and a tap on the hood of the Impala. “How's that neighborhood watch thing going for ya?” He adds with a little chuckle.

“Huh?” Calleigh feels like she just fell out of the sky. And she imagines that it must look that way too.

Brock gestures with his head to the container in her right hand, and Calleigh looks down to see her thumb still firmly placed on the top of it. Quickly putting the cap back on, she puts her hand behind her back. “It's nothing. It's just…” she tries, but the damage is already done. The only thing she can hope for now, is that Brock won't tell Jack about it.

“For protection?” Brock asks, as he wipes his abs with the cloth. When Calleigh doesn't answer, he continues. “New York taught you a few things huh?” He delivers the question with an understanding head tilt.

Calleigh takes a breath “Yeah I guess you could say—“ she’s interrupted by sirens approaching.

Brock lets out a little laugh “You called the cops on me.” It's more of a statement than a question. Calleigh feels a rush of embarrassment, as Brock lets out another friendly laugh.

“Not so much on you.. I..” Calleigh starts, moving her legs nervously. “I.. I thought you were someone else,” she tries, but without any kind of words to complete that sentence.

“Well, guess I can only hope that they won't arrest me,” Brock continues to chuckle, as he swings the cloth over his left shoulder, and walks outside to face the police.

Calleigh stays behind for a second or two before she shakes her head and lets out an exasperating breath. This is too embarrassing. Did she really call the cops on Brock? Jesus, she's never going to hear the end of this. This'll be one of those stories that'll be mentioned in a speech at her wedding. She can just hear it in her head ‘And you can feel totally safe, Calleigh will protect her terf whatever the cost. I remember…’ Shaking her head again, she walks outside as well.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

Not one, not two, but three units showed up. Thank you so much brain, for mentioning all the firearms in the house. Calleigh thinks to herself. Thankfully the misunderstanding was easy to clear up. Two of the officers knew Brock, which was understandable since Brock owned the only garage around that was certified to work on the police vehicles. And of course it helped that both the Lewis and the Rollins name was well known around these parts.

Just as the officers are leaving, Calleigh spots Mrs. Callahan across the street, coming out of her house with her walker. Mrs. Callahan was this tiny 4’9" little old lady, with long gray frizzy hair, she always wore white compression socks, a skirt with flower patterns on, a white shirt, a home knitted cardigan and brown slippers, she had lived across the street since forever. She was a really nice old lady, but she put her nose into absolutely everything.

“Miss Calleigh.” She yells across the street, with what little voice she has left. “Miss Calleigh, is everything alright?” She continues, as she walks across the street towards them.

“Yeah, Mrs. Callahan, everything is fine. Don’t worry.” Calleigh smiles at the old lady.

“I saw the police. Are you sure everything is alright? How's your father? Jack is such a sweetheart, don't you think?” Mrs. Callahan continues to talk. The thing with Mrs. Callahan was that after her husband passed away a few years ago, she had become very chatty. And if she started, there was almost no way of stopping her.

“Everything is perfectly fine Mrs. Callahan. It was just a misunderstanding” Brock shoots in, sending Calleigh an amused look when he says misunderstanding. “I can assure you that you can sleep safely.” He continues, giving the old lady a protective smile.

“O..Okay” Mrs. Callahan nods to Brock. Then she stops. “Would you be so kind as to walk an old lady back home, Brock?” She continues with her distinct old lady voice.

Brock sends Calleigh a small smile, before he offers his arm to Mrs. Callahan. When they start the short walk over the street, Calleigh can hear her say ‘Such a sweetheart, such a sweetheart’ over and over again. Calleigh can't help but smile. Both from the old lady calling Brock a sweetheart, and from the fact that Brock seriously makes her heart jump, and her stomach swoop. Both of which are feelings she's never had before.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

Calleigh has just finished maneuvering her car into the garage when Brock returns. Still wearing nothing but his well worn work jeans, with oil stains and rips on them. And then that body. Calleigh swallows hard to not let out any type of sound that can give away how she reacts to this man.

“You want Apple pie?” Brock asks, holding up two Apple pies, one in each hand. “Because I have two of them,” he continues, looking from Calleigh to the pies, and then back to Calleigh again.

Mrs. Callahan might be nosy to the point where Calleigh almost felt uneasy about it. But the old lady did make the most delicious Apple pies. Sweet, zesty and sugary. With the most amazing Granny Smith apples, cooked until perfection, with that sweet taste of cinnamon, a pinch of nutmeg and sugar. Calleigh remembers them from the block parties when she was a little girl. Finishing up her dinner as fast as possible, to make sure she could grab a slice before they were all gone. Her mouth still goes watery when she thinks about it.

“She gave you two?” Calleigh laughs. Smiling wide. Partly for the thought of eating Mrs. Callahan's Apple pies again and partly from the thought that she might sit down with Brock and eat them. Why is that thought so prominent? It's not like Brock hasn't had dinner or food in general in this house before. She practically grew up with him around.

“Two isn't enough?” Brock questions, placing the two pies on the roof of Calleigh's car, before he starts to turn around. “Because I'm pretty sure I can get like five more,” he continues as he starts to leave the garage. Brock chides himself. What the hell is wrong with him? Why is he suddenly acting like a fuckin' teenager? Playing stupid flirting games, so that Calleigh will try to stop him, touch him. Jesus, Brock. He thinks for himself. Calleigh must think he's insane.

“No, no, no,” Calleigh hastily replies, grabbing Brock's wrist. “Two is –,” she involuntarily stops mid sentence from the sensation of Brock's skin against her palm. “Two is fine.. it's –” she continues, meeting his eyes as she lets go of his wrist. One of Brock's fingertips brushes over her palm, sending waves of shivers up her arm “perfect” she breathes out.

“Alrighty then,” Brock smiles, as he once again takes the pies. “Just heat them on 350, for 15 to 20 minutes, and we'll have ourselves a treat,” he continues as he opens the door that leads from the garage into the house.

Calleigh examines his broad and perfectly toned backside. His jeans fit perfectly over his behind. Calleigh swallows again. Stop it, she once again tells herself. “Maybe have a shower first?” She suggests, before she follows Brock. A shower? Really, Calleigh? She thinks to herself, the thought of naked Brock in the shower makes her want to slap herself. Cold shower it is. A really cold shower.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

Calleigh locks the door to the downstairs bathroom, before leaning her forehead against the door. Oh,God. Is she stupid? It's frickin Brock for God's sake. What is she thinking? Turning around, she leans her back against the door, as she glances over the bathroom.

The bathroom had undergone a luxurious renovation. The once white walls were now covered in sleek black and gold marble tiles that gave the space a rich feel. The wood-look flooring stretched out, making the room seem spacious. Acoustic panels in complementary black and wood tones lined the ceiling. Gone was the indoor jacuzzi that Calleigh loved as a child, replaced by a double waterfall shower. Concrete shelves anchored the masculine vanity area. Perched atop were two oval basins crafted from natural river stone, marrying masculinity with luxury. A sauna for four to six sat in one corner, unused but admittedly stylish. Though unfamiliar, Calleigh had to concede the new bathroom was rather nice looking.

Stepping away from the door, Calleigh removes her work clothes, tossing them in the laundry basket by the door. Before she steps into the shower, she once again takes a look at herself in the mirror. She looks… What's the word? Young and inexperienced. Small breasts, though still firm and pointing the ‘right’ way, they're still small. Narrow hips. Damnit! Why does she care so much about this all of a sudden? Brock.. Like he would ever want someone like her. “Why do you care, Calleigh?” She says to the mirror, before she enters the shower.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

The guest bathroom upstairs offers every accommodation a guest might need, whether it was a short or a longer stay. The modern design, such as the subway tiles in the shower, the floating shelves for towels and toiletries, the bathtub, with it's spa-like bath pillow, and the shower curtain, resting on a black shower rod, that stretched from one wall to another, mixed with the intricate black and white pattern on the floor tiles it gave the room a contemporary yet nostalgic charm.

Brock leans forward in the shower, leaning his arms against the wall as he lets the water wash over his neck, dripping down over his eyes and nose. He takes a deep breath. He'd almost forgotten that feeling. Aside from the fact that he'd promised himself to never go down that path again, he had to admit that it did feel good. That warm feeling, that was pumped out in his entire body with every heartbeat. That childish need for physical contact. But no. He couldn't do this. Not with her. Not with Calleigh. He's 26 years older than her, old compared to her. Though he was in good physical shape, he was still older than her. A lot older. After he took his therapist's advice to work out more to clear his head, his workout routine had become his safe place. A place where he didn’t have to think about Iraq or Afghanistan or Taylor. Just thinking about her name makes him feel cold. Calleigh, he thinks for himself. Calleigh with the gemstone eyes and perfect lips. Calleigh with the soft skin he felt when his fingers brushed over her palm. Calleigh… Yeah, Calleigh’s better. Calleigh’s definitely better. Fuck, what is he doing?

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

Calleigh looks between the knee-length tights and the white cotton shorts, weighing her options. The tights that cover more of her body or the comfortable shorts that's more suitable for this weather. God, this is just stupid. And why would Brock care anyway? Why does she care? Since when did what she wore around Brock become an issue? Opting for the shorts, she rolls her eyes at herself and her teenage-like thinking. The shorts fit better with the top anyway, and for some reason it feels important to look good right now.

After meticulously applying her make-up, Calleigh takes a good long look in the mirror. Her white shirt, with the blue and white butterfly pattern on the front sits perfectly on her body, hugging what's supposed to be hugged. Well, more like what's there to actually be hugged. Pouting a bit to her reflection and shaking her head at herself, she turns around checking if everything is in its right place. The straps on her bra are visible due to the shirts open back. After a few unsuccessful attempts trying to fix that issue, Calleigh gives up. Visible straps are better than a bikini anyway. No poolside relaxing today, there's no way she'll be strolling around in a tiny bikini with Brock around.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

The red light that indicates that the oven has reached its wanted temperature turns off, and Calleigh places the two pies into the oven. Thankful that Brock wasn't done upstairs yet. Those feelings she gets when he's around. They're… Calleigh doesn't even have the words to describe them. Sure she's been in love before, or at least smittened. She even had boyfriends, not too many or to long lasting, but still. But the feeling never lasted. And it was never like this. That feeling of her stomach doing gymnastics inside of her. What is that? Looking at the pies warming in the oven. Calleigh tries to make some sense out of all these emotions.

“Wouldn't it be funnier to… I don't know, watch a movie or something?” The voice suddenly talking over Calleigh's head startles her to the point where she hastily stands up. Banging her head into Brock's chin. “Ouch” Brock breathes out as he lets his hand glide over his chin.

“Oh, God,” Calleigh replies. Her expression is a mix of embarrassment and guilt. “I'm so sorry. Are you okay?” She continues, and without realizing that she does she lifts her arm to touch him where they collided. His rugged facial hair tickles her fingers as she carefully let them glide over his chin.

“I gotta say that your self-defense technique is a little unorthodox,” Brock smiles. “But it works, it definitely works,” he continues. The feeling he gets from Calleigh's touch is unlike anything he's ever felt before. A mix of excitement, guilt and that warm feeling spreading throughout his body.

Calleigh can't help but laugh. Brock always used to be funny, kinda like the cool uncle she never had since both her parents were an only child. She can remember millions of times when she was younger. Brock taking her to amusement parks, Brock dressing up as various animals or superheroes for her birthday parties, Brock letting her ride shotgun with him, even though Jack had told him not to. But for some reason the funny he shows her now, that funny feels different.

Suddenly realizing she's still touching him, Calleigh reatracts her hand, covering it with the other hand as she gives Brock an apologetic smile. What's gotten into her? Why does she feel like this around him all of a sudden?

“Is your head alright?” Brock asks, almost instantly regretting his poor choice of words. “From the… err.. bump,” he adds, when he sees the confusion on Calleigh's face. He lifts his hand, and carefully lets it glide over her head.

“Yeah”, Calleigh breathes out as she once again meets Brock's eyes. “I'm…” she continues, as Brock's hand glides down to her neck before stopping on her shoulder. “Good..” Whispering the last word so low that she's not sure Brock even hears it. It's definitely a connection between them. Or is it? Is she fooling herself? And if that's the case, then why?

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

The evening goes on. With Apple pies, ice cream, a movie on TV and a phone call from a worried Jack.

Mrs. Callahan had called him, and told him about the police being at the house. No surprise there. After about 14 failed attempts to call Calleigh, Jack had resolved to call Brock. Overprotective as he was, he was worried out of his mind. Before Brock explained how everything really went down, Jack was like two seconds away from jumping on the first flight back home. But after some discussion back and forth Brock had told him that he'd stay with Calleigh for the duration of Jack's stay in Chicago. For Calleigh, Jack's overprotectiveness in this situation was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing since this meant that she could spend some more time with Brock, and a curse for that exact same reason.

•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

After getting ready for bed, and before she turns off the lights, Calleigh sends a message in the group chat she shares with Molly and Jess.

‘Call me ASAP. I need to talk.’

No matter if there's a connection there or not, Calleigh needs to talk to someone about this. It's way too heavy to carry by herself. And what better people to talk to, than her two best friends.

Next Chapter ------->

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