Like the
Back of My
Halo
Soaring Bird, Book 1
by Heidi Hutchinson
Copyright 2016
Smashwords Edition
Like the Back of My Halo
©2016 Heidi Hutchinson
All Rights Reserved.
Cover Photos purchased from Shutterstock
Cover designed by Heidi Hutchinson
Editing done by Jo Evans
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review. Please do not participate in in encouraging piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locations, are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity, and are used fictitiously. All other characters, dialogue, and events are drawn from the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real.
Other titles by Heidi Hutchinson
Double Blind Study Series:
Learn to Fly
In Your Honor
Tectonic
Deepest Blues
The Hope That Starts
Brand New Sky
Into the Night We Shine
Soaring Bird Series:
Like the Back of My Halo
In Cold Mud Series:
Stubborn Hearts
Crossover with Bria Quinlin:
Things That Shine (October 2016)
www.heidih.net
to Amy
your friendship, love, and positivity
inspired this story.
I hope you realize how important you are
to the world.
And to me.
1
Brady
Was Brady Samson willing to die for tacos?
No.
Actually, he was not.
As evidenced by the fact he was hauling ass up the beach to Bo's truck, the loose arms of his wetsuit slapping against his legs.
It wasn't a situation he had ever considered facing. But when his brother had brought him the best tacos he'd ever had for breakfast that morning, he should've really anticipated the catch that came with it.
“C'mon!” Bo shouted. “Leave the board!”
Brady let go of the surfboard under his arm. It clattered to the gravel of their large driveway and he ground his teeth together as he swung into the passenger seat of his brother's brand new Dodge Ram truck.
They were fleeing. From their home.
Or, at least, the private beach which was basically their home's backyard.
Here's what he should've been asking: Was Brady finally going to die because of his brother's misguided life choices?
Now there was a question he was afraid to have answered.
“What the hell, Bo?” he asked, as Bo backed out of his parking spot, gravel flying. Brady gripped the open window of the truck as it spun around. His eyes collided with angry blue ones and amused green ones—their pursuers, and the reason he'd run like his ass was on fire.
His gaze darted to the empty windows of the two story beach house. Kip and Steve were at work and therefore missing everything. What Brady wouldn't give to be at work right now.
Bo's wicked laugh brought Brady around to glare at his younger brother.
“What do I need to know about the tacos, Bo?” Brady asked quietly, his stomach pausing in its digestive efforts.
Bo wagged his head back and forth and glanced in the rear view again.
Brady closed his eyes and prayed for patience. “What does that mean?”
“I'm not sure who made them. Exactly.”
Brady took in a slow, deep breath. He wasn't supposed to punch his brother anymore. They weren't fourteen, they were adults. They handled things like grownups now. He chose his next words carefully, saying them with as little inflection as he could manage.
“Where did you get them?”
Bo shrugged. “I found them.”
“Found them.”
Bo pressed his lips together as he rethought his story, still not looking at Brady. “I promised you breakfast, but I'd slept in. So I was headed out to get some donuts or something quick and I...” He paused, cleared his throat. “Found a bag of tacos.”
Worst case scenarios raced through Brady's head and his stomach spasmed painfully.
“I knew it. I knew my death would ultimately be your fault.”
Bo turned to him and scoffed. “C'mon. It's not like I found them in a dumpster. They were fresh. For sure. Nothing to fear.” He was completely unconcerned with their possibly drug, botulism, and AIDS laced status. Why else would people be chasing them down?
“How can you be so sure?” Brady asked, sweat beading along his neck. Was it suddenly a lot hotter? No, it must be the fever. Did drugs give you a fever?
Bo rolled his eyes. “Trust me.”
Brady didn't want to trust Bo. Trusting Bo usually meant he was going to get violently ill or get his ass kicked. He was about to point that out when Bo shrugged one shoulder and a mysterious smile curled the corners of his mouth.
“Remember in high school, the girl who hated me?” Bo asked.
A memory activated in Brady's mind. Those insanely angry blue eyes they had fled moments before.
“I remember you terrorizing a girl in your class because she had a different kind of a name,” Brady said, feeling the panic subside and heavy disappointment in his brother settle in his stomach beside the tacos.
Bo rejected that memory with a sneer. “Uh, no. She terrorized me.”
“That is not how I remember it,” Brady said, pulling at the seat belt and realizing that if the tacos didn't kill him, his brother's driving was going to.
“Whatever. She had a stupid name. Spencer Clementine? What kind of a name is that?”
Yep. The angry blue eyes had a name. One he hadn't heard in a few years, but came with a heavy history. “Bo, why was Spencer Clementine chasing us off our own property?”
“Because I stole her tacos.”
“Of course you did,” Brady said, no longer holding back his sarcasm. “You're a twenty-nine year old man, why wouldn't you steal tacos from a girl you hate?”
“I don't hate her!” Bo protested. “She hates me! There's a difference.”
“You stole her tacos!”
“Yes, I did.” Bo grinned and Brady (again) wanted to hit him.
Brady ran a hand over his short hair. “You're unbelievable. You do realize that she knows where you live now, don't you?”
Bo's grin died and he stared out the windshield. “She doesn't know that. I could have been at a friend's house.”
“Dude, you are such a dick.” Brady closed his eyes and rubbed his temples with his fingertips. “And you know what's really bothering me? I'll never find out where she got those tacos from.”
Bo checked the rear view mirror again and slid his sunglasses onto his face. “Damn, those were tasty tacos.”
Unfortunately, he was right.
Best damn tacos Brady had ever had.
***
Lo
Lo sucked in another breath and finally sat down in the gravel to hold her cramping stomach. Tears leaked out of the corner of her eyes and she wiped them away.
“And that goes for your mama, too!” Spencer yelled at the cloud of dust that had been Bo and Brady Samson, shaking her fist in the air above her head. The blonde (or mostly blonde) spun around, her hands landing on her hips. “It is not funn
y, Lo Fredericks.”
“Oh, shut up. It's hilarious and you know it!” Lo threw her head back and laughed loud and deep, holding her gut with both hands. “They stole our tacos, Spence! And then—” she sucked in a fresh breath— “they ran away! I just keep seeing that wetsuit flapping around his legs.” She used her arms to demonstrate and lost it again in a fit of giggles.
Spencer's lips twitched before she rolled her eyes and huffed out a sigh. She sat down next to Lo, folding her hands in her lap. “That boy has been the bane of my existence since I first laid eyes on him in sixth grade.”
Lo chuckled. “Knowing you, I'm guessing you gave as good as you got.”
Spencer sagged sideways and rested her head on Lo's shoulder. “I can't believe that jerk stole our tacos.”
“I can't believe you thought it would be a good idea to chase him down.” Lo shook her head. “Really. What was the plan if they hadn't run away?”
She felt Spencer shrug. “I don't know.”
Lo stood up and brushed off the back of her cutoffs. “C'mon. I'm starving. If I don't find something to eat I'm liable to get stabby.”
Besides, she wasn't going to let Spencer pout. Sure, she felt the loss of the tacos right in the middle of her taco-shaped heart. But it wasn't an excuse to waste a perfectly perfect morning.
She bumped her friends shoulder with her own as they walked back the way they had come.
“At least we got a show out of it.” A giggle tore through her as she pictured the flapping arms of the wetsuit. She decided to demonstrate one more time, determined to get a laugh. She jogged ahead a few steps and let her arms flop about.
Spencer snorted despite herself. “Goof.”
Lo turned around grinning.
“No one loves life the way you do.” Spencer shook her head.
Truth. But Lo believed that to be true in every case. Everyone loved life in their own particular fashion, to which they were entitled.
Though sometimes they had to be coaxed into embracing their unique way of loving.
“There's nothing wrong with finding joy in the ridiculous.”
They spotted a food truck in the parking lot and Spencer agreed to treat Lo to breakfast since her nemesis had stolen the first one. They ate, cleaned up, and watched the water make its way to shore.
“Will you make more tacos tonight before your big thing?” Spencer asked.
“Of course.” Lo took a slow breath, her happily full insides ready to take on the rest of the day. The calories went to work activating the rest of her brain and sorting out all the things she needed to accomplish before day's end.
“I have to come over early tonight anyway,” Lo said, her eyes narrowing on a young girl dragging a huge surfboard into the water. “Tessa wants to do my makeup and hair.”
Ah, yes, Lo the Business Babe.” Spencer gently grabbed a handful of Lo's long dark hair and fluffed it. “She's so different from Miss Tarzina, Traveling Apothecary.”
Lo chuckled. More truth. “Have to pay the bills somehow.”
She stood up, having lost sight of the girl in the reflecting surface of the water.
“What?” Spencer asked, joining her.
Lo shook her head and frowned. “I was watching a girl...”
A little head bobbed in the distance as she paddled clumsily for open water.
7... 8... 9... 10...
Three foot waves at ten seconds. It was the biggest they were going to get.
Baby waves. Beautiful for a morning ride to get the muscles loose. Lo had been counting the seconds between waves, wondering if they would grow much more. Not today, it seemed.
If the girl was experienced, she should be fine. But it niggled at the back of Lo's mind.
“I'm gonna paddle out,” she said, stripping off her tank and dropping her shorts to her ever present bikini.
“Okay.” Spencer squinted into the distance. “I'll stay here. Maybe join you in a minute.”
They had eye contact, communicating all the things they didn't needed to say because they were often on exactly the same page. Sisters on a soul level.
Lo paddled out, keeping track of the younger girl ahead of her. Once she'd reached her and had righted herself on her board, the girl was aware of her as well.
“Nice morning,” Lo greeted, pushing her wet hair back.
The girl was probably only eight or nine. About the same age Lo had been when she'd started surfing. The look of fear obvious in her round eyes.
“My name's Lo. What's yours?” she asked, bringing her board around to be parallel with the young rider.
“Whitney.”
“Nice board, Whitney,” Lo observed. It was old, used, and too big for such a tiny person. Whitney's wetsuit wasn't hers either. It was three sizes too big and bunched in ways that must've been uncomfortable.
It was like looking at a live snapshot of herself at that age.
“It's new.” Whitney swallowed and looked down at the board, second-guessing her decision to paddle out.
“First time?” Lo guessed.
“No. I tried all day yesterday but couldn't even get on the board.”
Lo nodded. “No one makes it up the first time.”
Whitney's bright eyes snapped up to hers.
“Let me be the first to welcome you to this beautiful life.” Lo swung her arms out to encompass the ocean and all it contained.
Whitney cracked a smile and Lo grinned.
“For real. The ocean has restorative powers. Stick with it, Whitney. It is an amazing place to find yourself.” Lo felt the familiar movement in her belly.
“Here it comes,” Lo instructed. “Get ready.”
Whitney's eyes got round again but she swung to her belly. “Now?”
“In three... two... paddle, paddle, paddle!”
Whitney's little arms pumped wildly. Lo paddled alongside her.
“Now?” Whitney wheezed.
The wave grew under her and Lo's taco-shaped heart grew two more sizes with excitement for this girl to experience her first ride. “Okay, now!”
Whitney popped to her feet, wobbling to find her balance on the big board. Lo held the rails on her own board and swung out of Whitney's path. She watched the young girl manage to ride nearly all the way back to the beach before falling off. When she emerged from the water, her face beamed with well-earned pride and gratitude.
She looked around for Lo. When she spotted her, Lo lifted her hand, thumb and pinky extended in the shaka sign. “Whoooo!” she called over the water.
One more person converted and added to the greatest family on earth.
2
Brady
Brady straightened his bow-tie again.
Again, he watched it slowly rotate to the right.
You know what kind of tie didn't spin around like a propeller on his neck? A clip-on.
But if he wore a clip-on, his dad would make The Face. The special one he reserved for social events and crushing disappointment.
Okay, maybe it wasn't as severe as that.
Doctor Elliot Samson was a respected vascular surgeon. One of the best in his field. Ironically, he believed his profession made him an expert in all areas of the heart. And since Brady's mom was world renowned neurosurgeon Doctor Cassandra Samson, his parents had brain and heart covered.
Practically, efficiently, corporeally.
Both parents had had high hopes of one, if not both, of their sons going into the medical field.
“You always go all out for these things,” Bo remarked, barely glancing up from his video game marathon on the couch when Brady came downstairs. “Your tie is crooked.”
Brady glanced down at his tux. He felt less 007 and more penguiney. Like a boy borrowing his dad's clothes to play an adult in a show.
“You were invited, too,” Brady reminded.
“Yep.” Bo paused his game and grabbed his beer off the end table beside him, unconcerned.
Only a year apart, and often mistaken for twins because of
their similar build, blond hair, and blue eyes, Bo and Brady couldn't be more different in personality.
Bo looked his brother up and down as he swallowed. “But I don't feel like answering all the questions about my future and what I'm going to do with my life. What about you? Has dad found you a rich wife yet?”
Brady grimaced. Not only did his parents fear he couldn't get a life partner on his own, they also believed she would need to be the sole bread winner. He would like to say it was because he had chosen to live in a beach house with three of his friends and surf instead of pursue a major career. But his parents had been talking about his future since he was ten and how they would like to see him and his brother “taken care of.” It was like a bizarre role reversal of Pride and Prejudice.
They had backed off briefly while he was attending San Diego State. But after his injury and subsequent drop-out, they had upped their efforts. He went to these things because he wanted to show them he was doing fine and didn't need their help. Also, because it was family. You show up for family, even if it makes you itchy. He tugged at the collar of the tux.
Bo grinned at his movement. “You're purdy.”
“Suck it,” Brady muttered, turning around and nearly colliding with Steve coming through the front door.
“Whoa!” Steve exclaimed, holding his hands up defensively. “Careful, DiCaprio. I don't want to wrinkle you.”
Kip came in behind him and lifted his chin. “Oh, yeah. Your cousin's engagement party is tonight. You look good, man.”
“Thank you.” Brady made a pointed look at Bo, who shrugged. “I'll be back later. No parties while I'm gone.” He grabbed his keys off the hook by the door. “I'll be back in a couple hours.”
“Standard photo op with the 'rents and crab cakes to go?” Bo asked, turning his game back on.
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