Witness by Piper Davenport Read Free Book Online

ample rear end as she moved. He’d always been a T&A guy, and Bailey didn’t disappoint on either. She wore a tight pair of yoga pants and a black, lacy camisole that hid enough, but made Brock want to peel it off her. She grabbed a bottled water and walked back towards him, giving him a shy smile.
    “Hey,” he said.
    “Hi.”
    “Still can’t sleep?”
    She shook her head.
    “Are you in pain?”
    “No. Just wired.”
    “Wanna watch the game with me?”
    Bailey wrinkled her nose. “Baseball? Um, no, I’ll pass.”
    “Might put you to sleep.”
    She tipped the water toward him. “You might have a point.”
    Brock chuckled, patting the cushion next to him. “Plant it, babe.”
    She took a seat and grabbed a blanket from the ottoman beside the television. It didn’t take long for her to look sleepy, so Brock guided her head onto his lap, wrapping the blanket around her. He stroked her hair as she lost her battle with sleep and her breathing evened out.
    He heard Dallas head to the bathroom, and then watched him walk into the living room. “What the hell, Brock?” Dallas whispered. “Are you kidding me with this?”
    “Shhh. You’ll wake her.”
    “Not a good idea.”
    “Your concerns are noted,” Brock whispered.
    “You screw this up, brother, and you and I are gonna have a problem.” Dallas grabbed water and headed back to his room.
    Brock ran a finger gently down Bailey’s cheek. Her face was healing faster than expected, revealing a beauty Brock had guessed was there, but hadn’t anticipated it would be so incredible. Her skin was like porcelain, her body would make Marilyn Monroe envious, and her hair…her hair was soft…so damn soft. He figured it was the expensive shampoo and conditioner she’d requested and he was happy to buy it, considering the end result.
    He realized in that moment, he had to let her go. He had to hunker down, protect her, but forget about getting close to her. In the real world, she was out of his league.

CHAPTER EIGHT
     
    B AILEY F OLLOWED B ROCK into the medical offices at the hospital and upstairs to Dr. Stone’s office. It was two weeks after she’d fallen asleep on Brock’s lap and two weeks since Brock seemed to have forgotten their sweet and romantic kiss. Two weeks since he’d carried her to her room, kissed her temple, and stroked her hair. Two weeks since he’d gone back to being Brock the agent and not Brock the friend who could be more, and two weeks since he’d just been sweet in general. Now he was cold, professional, and all about protecting Bailey.
    As promised, he set up a call with her parents. Her mother was justifiably melodramatic and her father was detached. They’d come up with a pretty lame story that Bailey had flown to Aspen with a new boyfriend and had lost her cell phone, so the number she was calling from was the new one. Her father had asked her about the man’s name and she’d given him Kevin Smith from Seattle. He seemed happy with that…well, not happy, but not concerned, which was the same in Bailey’s opinion.
    When she hung up, Brock had been pissed. When she’d pressed him as to why, he’d noted that they weren’t worried.
    “My mom is worried.”
    “No, I don’t think she is.” He rubbed his forehead. “I think she’s disingenuous.”
    “Why do you say that?”
    “Babe, parents who keep a woman on as tight a leash as you, don’t just worry, they watch.”
    “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    “It means I have more that I have to figure out.”
    Not knowing what to make of his words, and with Brock looking like he could kill someone, Bailey dropped the conversation. She wasn’t interested in knowing why he was so pissed, or in getting any more emotionally involved with him.
    “You can go back,” the receptionist said, when Bailey walked up to the desk. “Room two.”
    “Thanks.”
    Brock stayed close as she headed to exam room two. He waited with her until the doctor arrived, and then without a word,