She didn't feel like going to church on Sunday, mostly because she didn't want to get out of bed. Facing Brock after their confrontation the night before was the first thing on her mind when she awoke, and she knew it was on his mind as well. He would want to talk and try to make things right between them, probably by trying to justify his excuses. She didn't care. She just wanted to forget about their exchanged words.

She took her shower, dressing in her normal jeans and a tank top, straightening her hair. She didn't even bother putting on much makeup since there was no one to impress. It wasn't at all like the morning before, when she thought about what she was wearing and his reactions. She felt defeated, which wasn't like her at all.

When she entered the kitchen she found that breakfast had been made for her and was sitting on the table, coffee included. She noticed a note next to the plate, Brock's scrawl all over it. She read the note, unable to stop herself from smiling at his words.

I'm really sorry for last night, Reba. Is this a fight eggs and toast can fix?

Her answer was 'no,' but she at least gave him props for trying to joke. She sat down and ate her breakfast, which was surprisingly hot. She guessed he must have rushed out to the garage when he heard her coming downstairs. It was good though, and she was thankful she didn't have to make her own breakfast.

After cleaning up her plate she decided that it was about time she talked to her ex-husband. She refilled her cup of coffee and poured him one before she made her way out to the garage, which had recently become the place where he painted…terribly. She always got a laugh at his painting, especially since he had never had any artistic ability at all.

He didn't turn to face her when she entered the garage, softly closing the door behind her. Splotches of paint littered the floor, as well as the paper. She hated the mess he made, but figured it was a garage/office/paint space so it didn't really have to look that great. It needed a little color anyway. She cleared her throat and he turned to face her, looking timid. She shrugged and handed him the cup of coffee she brought for him.

"Thanks for breakfast." He smiled, nodding as he took a sip of his coffee.

"It's the least I can do for being such a dick."

"Well, I can't argue with that." She smiled watching him sit his cup upon Van's desk as he chuckled. He began to paint once more, seeming to ignore her. She didn't like that he acted so blasé about their argument. There were a lot of things they addressed that were never resolved. "Listen, I'm sorry for what I did last night."

"Don't be sorry. I shouldn't have said what I said without expecting something to happen." He wouldn't look at her, and it was getting on her nerves, so she sat her cup down on the desk and took his paintbrush from his hands, stopping his painting. He turned to look at her while she awaited the rest of his speech. "The reason I said no wasn't because I don't want you."

"You didn't say no, you pushed me away." He nodded, realizing that his reaction to her kiss had hurt her more than his reasoning.

"I'm sorry I acted that way." He turned to fully face her, looking deep into her questioning blue eyes. "I just didn't want to do anything you would regret."

"I started it." He shrugged turning to paint again, but soon realized she still had his paintbrush. Instead of asking for it back, he dipped his fingers in the paint and began wiping them against the canvas. She rolled her eyes, touching his shoulder. "Which means: I wouldn't have regretted it."

"Reba, have you thought about all the reason why we shouldn't be together?" She chuckled, watching as he continued to paint with his hand.

"Of course I have."

"Then why…" She didn't let him finish as she stepped closer and wrapped her arms around his waist from behind, feeling his warm flesh against her cheek.

"Because Brock, I love you." He stopped the motion of his hand, taking in what she said. He didn't move, didn't speak because he wasn't sure if he heard her correctly. Her hands moved over his chest for a moment, before stopping. She pulled back a bit. "Didn't you hear what I said?"

"I just can't believe it." She sighed in relief, smiling to him when he turned around to face her, wrapping his arms around her. "I love you more than you can even imagine. And I'm so sorry I pushed you away last night."

"You can make it up to me." He smiled and leaned down to place a gentle kiss upon her lips. She quickly deepened it as he moved his hand to her cheek, biting her lower lip. A sigh escaped her mouth, and she held closer to him by wrapping her arms tighter around his middle. She was immediately lost in the feeling of kissing him like they used to. He pulled away and began to laugh, causing confusion to fall over her features. "What?"

"I just got paint all over your cheek." He continued to laugh as her eyes widened, and she move her fingers to her cheek only to find them covered in green paint.

"You think that's funny?"

"I think it's very funny." He nodded and continued to laugh. She looked to where a newspaper lay upon the desk, the place where she had left his paintbrush. His laughter ceased when she wiped the brush down his nose. She smiled her bright, childlike grin before he placed his other hand in paint and smeared it down her arm.

She gasped, reaching her hand in paint as well. And before they knew it they were covering one another in paint, green and purple and blue. Their clothes were nearly covered by the time he pressed his lips hard against hers while she took the opportunity to unbutton his shirt and run paint over his bare chest. He chuckled and lifted her tank top from her body as well, boldly running his hands, along with paint, over her stomach and breasts.

He moved his hands to her backside, gripping tightly with his palms before he laid her against the concrete of the garage floor. Normally she would have been bothered, since it wasn't the cleanest place to lie, but the amount of paint upon her skin led her to quickly dismiss that thought. She wrapped her legs around his waist, her hands roaming over his back as their tongues tapped. She suddenly gasped at a heavy vibration between her legs, coming from his pocket, causing her to pull away and meet his eyes.

"Is that a new trick?" He chuckled, reaching into his pocket to retrieve the source of the vibration.

"It's my phone." She giggled, placing her hands behind her head.

"Well that text better be important." His look of confusion caused her to feel curious. He turned his phone around and she read, confused. "Look out the window?"

They both looked towards the only window in the garage, the one on the door, to find Alex staring at them. She looked more than angry, and they couldn't move for being so shocked. Alex shook her head and slammed her middle finger against the window before turning and walking away.

"Well…" Brock was quick to break the tension, since he knew the mood was broken and they would have to postpone their situation until later. "She looks like she wants to talk to me."