27
Jessie
Deciding I’d rather wait for Brock to give me an o****m than my own fingers, I stoked the fire and grabbed his journal for some reading. He’d written in it every night I’d been with him, simply jotting a few notes from the day, he’d said, to keep track of his time. While he hadn’t offered to let me read it, he never tucked it out of sight, leaving it on the shelf above the table.
Brock had started the journal on day one of his new life, I took note of on page one, and although he hadn’t used my name, he mentioned a stubborn vixen with pilot skills unseen, with a rocking body and mouth he’d be dreaming about in the coming months.
Warmth filled me—emotional and physical.
“What are you doing to me, Brock?” I whispered in the stillness, the ache in my chest obvious my missing hi
