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I opened the bag, then placed it on the table without taking any chips out. I set the beer on the table and sat back, resting my head on the back of the couch.

I needed to figure out who I was now. Not the man I was before Victoria, and certainly not the man I’d become with her, but maybe it was time to become the man I truly wanted to be.

I may not have everything figured out, but at least I had a job that I loved … The rest would come in time.

Chapter 4 – Gaby

I was just finishing up putting my chef coat and hat in my locker, securing my hair in a band and hair tie, when Brock walked into the kitchen. Tall, and muscular, with hair that was a little too long on top, and a closely cropped beard, Brock was very secure in his masculinity, and it looked good on him.

Very good.

His looks combined with his sweet dispositions, savvy business sense, and all-around good-guyness, made him quite a catch.

We’d been dating for a few weeks, and the more I got to know him, the more I really liked him.

I’d just finished my shift and had the rest of the afternoon free. Owning his own painting company meant Brock made his own hours and had capable people working for him, so he’d asked to whisk me away for the afternoon.

“Hey, sweet girl, you ready?” Brock strode toward me and gathered me into a hug, inhaling deeply. He said he loved the way I always smelled sweet. I put my arms around him for a moment and let myself be held. Brock was a terrific hugger, and since he was so much bigger than me, I enjoyed how safe I always felt in his arms.

“Yup,” I said, tilting my head up to grin at him when he released me from his arms.

“You have your bathing suit, or do we need to stop at your place?” he asked, taking my hand in his as we walked out of the bakery.

“I’ve got it,” I said, swinging my purse out to show him. Brock had a beautiful pool that he’d had custom built in his backyard a few years ago. We were going to hang out, do some swimming, then barbecue for dinner.

“Great.” He smiled down at me as he held the door open. “I just need to stop by Brady’s for a minute, then we will be on our way to relaxation.”

“Sounds good,” I replied.

Brock’s truck was huge, and he drove it most days since he could load up the back for work. He held out his hand to help me into the cab, then shut the door behind me. I enjoyed riding in his truck, but I loved the days when he picked me up on his motorcycle. Brock was the kind of man who was made to ride, and although it wasn’t practical for him to ride when he had to work, he took it out whenever the opportunity arose.

Alternative rock filled the cab of the truck as we pulled away and headed toward his brother Brady’s house. Brock had two brothers, Brady and Brendan, and had raised them when their parents died in an accident ten years ago. Brock had only been seventeen at the time, and he and his brothers were very close because of it.

“How was work today?” Brock asked, breaking me out of my thoughts.

“Busy, but good. We had an order for a custom cake for a baby shower. It was made into the shape of a baby carriage, and turned out great,” I replied with a smile, remembering the shout of excitement the woman had made when she came to pick up the cake. She was the mother of the woman whose shower it was, and this would be her first grandchild. “How about you? Did you have a lot of work today?”

Brock rubbed his fingers absently across his chin and said, “Yeah, I had three jobs going on this morning, but I had a chance to stop by all of the sites, and my guys had a good handle on the work. I also got a request for a job at some new condominiums opening up downtown. There are twenty condos altogether, and they’d like to have them done before the grand opening in two weeks. It’s a big job, but will be great for the company.”

“That’s wonderful, Brock, congratulations!” I said sincerely. I thought the business he’d built for himself was amazing, and a testament to the kind of man he was. “Do you want me to wait in the car?” I asked when we pulled in his brother’s driveway.

“No, you should come in.” Brock hopped down and I waited, knowing by now that he was going to come around and open my door for me. I may be an independent, free-spirited woman, but I enjoyed the fact that Brock was a true gentleman. It made him happy to do little things for me, like open my door or hold my hand, and I had to admit, I enjoyed the fact that he made the effort.

When we got to the door, he opened it up and shouted, “Brady, we’re here!” We walked through the clutter of his living room to the back of the house, and went out the sliding glass door when we heard him shout back from the backyard.

“You’re such a slob, bro,” Brock said in greeting when we stepped outside.

“Sorry, Dad,” Brady said sarcastically. “How about you worry about the conditions of your house, and let me worry about mine.” Brady was fiddling with his riding lawnmower. He’d obviously been at it for a while; his shirt was slung over a lawn chair, and he had sweat running down his toned chest. He wasn’t as tall as Brock, and had more of a leaner build. Where Brock had dark blond hair, Brady’s was almost black. They both shared the dark, tanned complexion of their mother. I’d seen pictures of her, she’d been a gorgeous Mexican woman.

“Here, let me see,” Brock said, reaching to take a tool out of Brady’s hand. Brady released it gladly and turned to me.

“Hey, Gaby.” Brady flashed a dangerously sexy grin at me. At twenty-five, he was the same age that I was, whereas Brock was a few years older. “Didya bring cupcakes?”

“Sorry,” I responded with a laugh when his face fell. “I didn’t realize we were coming over, or I would have brought a batch for you.”

“That should do it,” Brock said as he turned the key and the lawnmower started right up.

“Seriously?” Brady threw his hands in the air, obviously frustrated that his brother had already fixed what he hadn’t been able to.

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