As quickly as she’d run down the stairs when she heard the commotion in the basement, she retreated to get ready. Brock found a mug and poured a cup of coffee. And because he could hear Amelia on the steps, he poured one for her too and had it in his hand when she finally showed herself. “I’m not very sneaky, huh?” She smiled as she reached for the mug. “You might be just fine. I’m trained to hear everything.” Amelia nodded and sipped. “You want to take her home and meet your family? That sounds like a relationship thing. You just met her.” Brock decided that his week as a civilian had dampened his senses. He hadn’t heard Amelia until Penelope had left the room. But she must have been on the stairs for a long time. “I think a dose of real family would do her some good. I want her to see not every man was raised by a screaming mother like Sergeant Monroe’s. Or a neglectful one, like her own.” “She doesn’t talk about her mother much.” “I don’t think there’s much to say,”
