"Barbra Jean, for the tenth time, I am not gonna get matchin' tattoos with you." Reba sighed and filled her coffee cup again. Lord, that woman could talk the ear off'a anything.

Reba's morning had consisted of talking Barbra Jean down from calling the police since Brock hadn't called or popped by. Since that fiasco was not over, Barbra Jean had taken to trying to define their friendship, seeing as simply saying she was Reba's "best friend" wasn't going to cut it anymore. She'd written two songs, a poem, and a short story. Now, she was wanting tattoos.

"Come on, Reba! We're best friends" She whined. "That's what best friends do."

"Whatever we are, Barbra Jean, we're not best friends."

Barbra Jean just laughed and drank her coffee. "Sure, Reba."

Reba rolled her eyes.

The door opened behind Barbra Jean. "Hey, Barbra Jean. Reba." Brock said nonchalantly.

Too nonchalantly, Reba thought.

"Brock! Oh, thank goodness you're alright!" Barbra Jean cried as she pulled him into a tight hug.

Reba pressed her lips together trying to hold back a laugh as he looked to her for help over Barbra Jean's shoulder. She shook her head. He brought this upon himself. Served him right for not checking in with his wife.

She rose to her feet and made her way to the cupboard. "Coffee?" she asked him.

He nodded.

"Or somethin' stronger?" She muttered, just loud enough for him to hear. She caught his smirk from the corner of her eye.

"Can't breathe, Barbra Jean." He coughed out.

"Why didn't you call me? You could have at least texted, or emailed, or faxed, or pigeon mailed me, couldn't you?" She held him at arms length.

"Yeah, Brock. Couldn't you?" Reba quipped as she poured the dark gold into a cup for him. "She almost called the police, y'know." she said as she breezed past him back to the kitchen table, handing him the cup as she went. "And she climbed up the side of my house at 3am." She added.

"You what?" He shook his head and narrowed one eye at her, knowing it was just to cover their asses. "Yeah, about that, Barbra Jean. I went back to the condo and fell asleep on the couch, I'm sorry."

"For fifteen hours?" she asked. "Say, Reba, do you have any cookies or anything hidin' anywhere?"

"If you haven't already eaten them all, they should be in the cupboard."

Barbra Jean turned around and crouched down to open the door. Brock quickly crossed the floor and leaned down to quickly peck Reba's lips. She smiled as he pulled away and grabbed him by the shirt collar to bring him back down for another before letting him go. He moved behind her chair and placed his hand on the back, leaning against it. He looked down at her, trying to keep the smile off his face. Reba shook her head and pinched her forefinger and thumb together, mouthing for him to "zip it."

"Ah! My favourite!" Barbra Jean exclaimed as she popped up over the cupboard and set the box on the counter.

She turned around to put on another pot of coffee and Brock leaned down to Reba's ear. "How's it goin'." he asked quietly as he kneaded her shoulder with his free hand.

She let out a shaky breath at his touch. "If you can get her outta here, it'll be goin' much better."

He kissed the side of her head. "I'll see what I can do."

Barbra Jean turned back to face Brock and Reba, just as he was taking a seat beside her. "So, Brock, Reba and I were just discussing matchin' tattoos."

His eyebrows raised and he smirked. "Oh yeah?"

Reba rolled her eyes, "She was discussin', I was ignorin'."

Brock sipped his coffee and smirked. "That could be kinda hot."

Reba looked back at him and smacked his chest. "Not happenin'."

"I'll break you, Reba Hart, you know I will." Barbra Jean pointed her finger at the redhead and Brock laughed.

"Barbra Jean, where's Henry?"

"Craaaaaaap!" She said as she darted out the door, the pair could hear her screaming as she ran down the road.

Reba chuckled and raised her glass in salute. "Well done."

Brock pretended to tip his hat and she giggled more. "Where are the kids?"

"I don't know, I haven't heard from anyone yet this mornin'."

"Ah." Brock nodded and Reba tilted her head to the side.

"Ah, what?"

He grinned and moved his chair closer to hers. "Was thinkin' we could pick up where we left off this mornin'."

Reba arched a brow and half smirked. "Oh you did, did you?"

He just nodded and slipped his hand along her thigh.

Reba licked her lips and watched him. "I was thinkin' we should talk."

He leaned in to put his face in her neck, moving her sweater so he could access her shoulder.

"Brock,"

"Mmm?" He moved his lips back along her jaw.

"I think we should talk."

Brock groaned into her neck. "Again with the talkin'. All this talkin' is givin' me a headache."

"Brock, we need t0."

"Can't we talk after?" He mumbled, moving his hand beneath her sweater to caress her stomach.

"Brock, no," she put her coffee cup down on the table and cupped his cheek, pushing him back. "Seriously."

"Okay, okay." He pulled back and took a gulp of his coffee. "What about?"

"Everything."

"Everything? That's a lot to talk about."

She furrowed her brows. "Be serious." She stood and locked her back door, not wanting anyone to interrupt their conversation, even though everyone had keys. "You know how I feel about this, Brock."

"I know."

"I won't hurt her. We either need to slow this way down, or be more careful."

Brock rubbed his neck. "What do you want?"

Reba bit her lip. Be careful. She told herself then scolded herself. "Slow it down. A lot."

"This morning you asked me to bring a change of clothes over, now you want to slow things down?" He ran his hand through his hair. "Reba, you need to tell me what you want."

"I want this to not be so complicated." She paced. "I want you to be divorced. I want Barbra Jean to be okay with us. I want our children to be okay with us." She sighed. "I want to stop bein' so damn selfish about havin' you all to myself."

Brock half grinned, she admitted she wanted him. "You're allowed to be selfish. You're allowed to want things to go your way."

"I can't sneak around with you. I can't walk on eggshells while we figure this out."

"We might have to."

"But-"

"Reba look." Brock stood and crossed the kitchen, taking her hands in his. "I want you. Everyday. I wanna wake up and fall asleep beside you. I want to wake you up in the middle of the night to make love and I wanna keep you awake until the sun comes up. Be that in a week, three weeks, six months, or twenty years." He looked into her eyes. "I want all of you and I'll wait as long as you tell me to. But I don't want to waste time not being with you when you're the one who makes me happy. I know we have a lot to sort out and that we'll never be the same as we once were, but I know we're gonna be so much better."

Why was he making her so emotional? Reba sniffed and Brock wiped her eyes with his thumbs. "Are you sure?"

"Baby, I've never been more sure in my whole life." He smiled and cupped her cheek, bringing her into a tender kiss, their lips melting together as Reba slowly allowed him access to her mouth, his arms quickly working their way down her body as he scooped her up and carried her through to the living room.

She gasped and giggled against his mouth, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. "We're supposed to be talkin'."

"We are talkin'." He grinned and laid her down, climbing over her on the couch. His lips reconnecting with hers as soon as he had covered her body.

Reba moaned against his lips, her fingers scratching their way through his hair. "On the couch?" She mumbled, briefly thinking about the shit storm that would erupt if they were caught.

Brock nodded and pushed her sweater up over her head, grinning at the sight of her lacy black bra. "Very nice." He mumbled into her breasts and a throaty moan escaped her lips.

Holding his head to her chest while his lips traced her bra line before his fingers gently pulled one side back and as his lips wrapped around her nipple, her head tossed back into the pillows. "Oh my-"

Brock worked his way down her body, popping the button of her jeans through the loops and tugging them down her legs, he sat back and tossed them over his shoulder along with his own shirt. He kneeled between her legs and peeled her thong off, smirking as he did. "I'll keep this." He said and tucked it into his jean pocket, Reba's mouth hung open in shock.

Grinning, Brock kissed his way up her thigh, nipping and stopping in certain spots when she would gasp and tighten her legs around his head.

He slowly slipped a finger inside her and watched her head fall back and her hips arch towards his hand, reaching down she took his wrist and held it tight. "Brock," She said breathlessly and he ran his nose along her thigh towards his hand. His tongue grazing her sensitive skin.

It wasn't long before Brock had Reba squirming under his touch, every flick of his tongue or roll of his wrist sent shocks through her body, but she wanted more, she wanted him inside her, filling her and owning her body.

"Please," She gasped and clung to his hair, lifting her head to see him, his eyes looking directly at her as his tongue massaged her soft flesh. "Oh, Brock, please." She begged and tugged but he wouldn't quit. Reba fell back against the couch, her legs wrapped firmly around Brock's head and he sent waves of pleasure through her body making her squirm and moan his name.

He finally kissed his way over her stomach. She was breathless, her legs still twitching from her second orgasm, her eyes closed and her hand was resting on her forehead. Brock kissed the corner of her mouth and she quickly moved her lips to capture his, tasting, feeling him. Her arms and legs wrapped around him, his erection pressed firmly against her thigh.

"You're gonna make me pass out."

Grinning, he cupped her breast and tweaked her hardened nipple. "As long as it's from pleasure." his lips quickly replacing his fingers he felt Reba pull his hair with a throaty moan. He was loving this.

"Brock, please." She whimpered. He had never been like this when they were married. Not that he hadn't made an effort, but never in this way. Multiple orgasms? Being incredibly attentive? Ensuring she was pleased first? Her gasp brought her back to life and she groaned a lot louder than she wanted to and at that exact moment he entered her, eliciting even more cries of pleasure and she was thankful they were alone.

Brock collapsed atop of her, their orgasms hitting them at the same time, their breathing ragged and heavy. "It just keeps gettin' better." She gasped and he pulled out and laid by her, pulling her close.

"I was thinkin' the same thing." He said kissing her head.

"We should probably get dressed."

"Just a few more minutes?"

"Brock, we've practically wasted an entire afternoon." She chuckled and he held her tighter. "So much for slowin' down." He let her sit up and search for her sweater, standing and pulling it over her head, not bothering to find her bra. Brock laid back on the couch and grinned.

"I can waste the rest of your day if you like."

Where had this energy come from? Reba shook her head with a smile and tossed his clothes at him, he laughed and caught them before the hit his face. "Maybe tonight."

"I'd like that."

"We could have a family movie night?"

"Sounds good to me. I'll order pizza."

"No tryin' to cop a feel during the film though."

"Scouts honour." He held up his hand, folding his pinky beneath his thumb and held up three fingers.

"And you'll have to come back later, after everyone goes to bed." She picked at the hem of her sweater. "If you want to stay."

"Is that an invitation?"

"I think it might be." She said and pulled her jeans on. Not even bothering to ask him for her thong back.