“Why don't you?” Brady growled, feeling the poison of Miller's words try to sink through his skin and dig inside.
The muscle in Miller's jaw jumped. “I never minded the daddy issues. She can work those out on me all day.”
***
Lo
Lo wanted to yell. Maybe she was yelling. Something loud was happening in her brain. Brady and Miller grappled on the floor, but it wasn't much of a contest. Miller was outmatched. Brady straddled Miller, one hand braced against Miller's bare chest, his other in a fist that struck out to connect with Miller's face in a sickening thud. Miller retaliated with a blow of his own. Except his fist glanced off Brady's jaw, hardly touching him.
“Hit him again, Samson! Break his face!”
Lo whipped around to glare at Tessa, who had stuck her straw in the margarita pitcher and was shadowboxing against the screen. “Tessa Lanore!” she scolded.
Tessa tried to look guilty, but it lost its effect when she declared, “Yes!” in conjunction with the sound of another well placed fist.
She turned back to the fight that only seemed to be escalating in their very tiny living space. Someone was going to call the cops. This was a disaster. A memory flashed through her mind. Spencer breaking up the fight between Bo and Brady weeks ago. She stepped forward, ignoring the cloud of testosterone she was suddenly engulfed in, and successfully grabbed both men by the shells of their ears.
“Ow, ow, ow, ow,” Miller whimpered.
Brady said nothing, but his face was pinched in pain.
Lo's height proved to give her even more control. As the men separated from one another and stood up, they also had to bend sideways.
“If I let you go, will you stop acting like idiots?” she asked seriously.
Brady's eyes were burning, the blue more intense than she'd ever seen it. He flicked his gaze her direction and back to Miller, before he nodded.
Miller glared like a petulant child. “He started it.”
Lo pinched his ear harder, satisfied when he winced. “Yes! Geez!”
She let go and stepped back, putting her hands on her hips. “Now does someone want to tell me why you guys were using your fists and not your words?” Though, if Miller was involved, chances were it had been his words that had gotten him into trouble.
Miller had a death wish. She had always known that. It had been very appealing when they'd first started dating, but now it was mostly obnoxious. He wiped the blood from his mouth and openly leered at Lo. “I told him I liked how you used me. And I'd be willing to let you do it again, and again, and again.”
Brady took a step towards Miller and Lo placed a hand on his chest, stopping him while Miller laughed in his twisted way.
“You need therapy,” Lo said, regretting it the moment she said it.
“Ha,” Miller lifted his chin. “Not as badly as you do.”
“Get out, Miller,” Lo said, extremely tired with all of the bullshit.
Miller gave Brady a smug glare and a wide berth as he circled around the broken door and down the hall. Probably to find a bar. He had all of his new battle wounds to get him the attention he so desperately craved.
“I can fix the door,” Brady said after it had been quiet for several minutes. Lo's eyes dropped the broken wood and the destroyed door jamb.
“How?” she asked.
“Wood glue.”
They both turned to the laptop where Tessa was nodding solemnly. “That shit fixes everything.”
“I think it's time to say goodnight, Tess,” Lo said, withholding a smile as she stepped over to the laptop.
“No!” Tessa cried forlornly. “If you hang up on me I'll be forced to Skype random strangers until I pass out!”
Lo shook her head. “Go to bed, sweetie.”
“Fine.” Tessa looked past Lo to Brady. “Team Brady! WOO HOO!” Then the screen closed out.
Lo snorted a laugh, the stress of the day catching up with her and it was only one o'clock.
“I don't know what Miller Boden said to you this morning,” Brady began. Lo turned to face him as he spoke. “But with what he said to me, I can only imagine. I'm not going to apologize for hitting him.”
Lo pursed her lips. “Yeah, that makes sense.”
“He doesn't know you,” Brady declared with a growl. “He might think he does. But that guy is the most spoiled, selfish bastard I've ever come into contact with. And I'm friends with Adam Sawyer.”
Lo didn't know what that meant. “I don't know that person, but you're not wrong. Miller has a public persona and then the one you just met. I seem to bring out the worst in him.”
Brady's eyebrows descended sharply. “That's not on you.” He stepped closer to Lo and took her by the shoulders. “You are not responsible for the mental and emotional stability of any person on this planet besides you.”
She stared at him as his words echoed in her head. He knew her. She could see it on his face as his blue eyes examined her, sharp and intense. In the short amount of time they'd known each other, he had figured her out.
And proving her right, he bent down, placing a kiss on her stunned lips. “I need to get this door taken care of, then you and I are going out tonight. You need tacos and a margarita, and I need to dance with you.”
And Lo fell in love.
Fell like a stone into the ocean.
Straight to the bottom, a slow descent.
Covering her.
Saving her.
20
Lo
The black dress came to just above her knees and swirled with every step. The sweetheart neckline and thin straps left very little to the imagination. Lo hadn't understood why Tessa had packed it. Of all the cute sundresses and summery clothes she owned, this was by far her “sexiest.” Now, Lo was very happy it had been packed.
She dusted some shimmery blush on her cheeks and stared at herself in the mirror.
Her conversation with Tessa had been remarkably helpful, like she knew it would be. But her goals were blurring. Like heat rising off hot pavement, tomorrow was hard to see. Except she knew one thing for certain, she wanted Brady to be there. Tomorrow, next week, next year.
Weeks ago when they'd first met at a formal event, the evening had felt... enchanted. Something out of a dream or fantasy. She knew that night he was the type of man she could lose herself in. And it had scared her.
Growing up with the parents she'd had, she'd watched her mom throw her heart after bad love over and over. It had left an impact on her tender soul and she had internally vowed to never love like that. She would never love someone more than they loved her. She would never love someone who could ruin her.
***
Brady
After the door had been fixed and he'd gotten their marching orders from the hotel, Brady took a very long shower.
He flexed his hand over and over under the running water, watching the tears and bruises on his knuckles move and pull.
He'd never hit someone who wasn't Bo before.
Fighting with his brother was very different than fighting over the honor of a woman.
It was more visceral.
He wouldn't change it. Maybe that's what was throwing him off. He didn't regret it. The feeling he was experiencing was shame for lack of regret. He wasn't even angry at Miller anymore. Anger had been replaced with guilty satisfaction.
Miller had deserved an ass kicking.
Still.
Brady didn't like looking at his broken hands against the softness of Lo's skin. It felt wrong. Dirty.
She wouldn't see it that way. She took him as he came, bumps and all.
But it was heavy in his mind and granite in his heart.
Maybe it was her acceptance of his actions which was throwing him off. She didn't even question him. No lecture or harsh words about self-control. What about her reaction was concerning him?
He lost focus as it hit him powerfully in his chest.
She trusted him.
Not in the way she had bef
ore. Not as teammates or as friends.
She trusted him intuitively. Naturally.
It's everything he wanted. All he'd been working towards. But it had happened explosively and unexpectedly and suddenly Brady wasn't sure if he had earned that kind of trust.
***
Lo
Tacos, margaritas, dancing. In that order.
Lo laced her fingers behind Brady's neck as they swayed to the Incubus song “Promises, Promises.” He hadn't taken his eyes off of her all night. At first, she had been a little self-conscious of the added attention. But it seemed more for his own benefit than hers. Like he was finding a solid hold on reality by being connected to her.
He'd been quiet. Reflectively quiet. As though he had more on his mind than he knew what to do with.
She scratched the back of his neck lightly with her fingernails and smiled softly. “What's up with you?”
He took a deep breath and his arms flexed around her. “I got us kicked out of the hotel.”
She sucked in a breath, not expecting him to say that, but not really surprised either. He had broken down a door.
And here he was, trying to make sure she didn't feel the weight of it.
“Okay,” she said.
“And Shane is calling us home tomorrow to restructure.”
“Oh.” She stared at his chest as his words sank in. It wasn't shocking, but it was a little disappointing.
“I'm so undeniably yours,” he said roughly, getting her eyes back. “Just... yours.”
Lo pressed her ear to his heart and he wrapped his arms around her. She closed her eyes and held on, unsure what else to do. The only thing she could think was to hold him.
***
Brady
Brady's eyes slid to the doorway of his room.
“What do you need, babe?”
They'd come back from the bar and packed their belongings silently, knowing they had to check out in the morning. And then retired. Her to her room, him to his. Where he stared at the ceiling unable to put to rest the unease in his chest at where his actions had brought them.
Now she was standing in the doorway in sleep shorts and tank top.
“I want to hold you,” she said gently, taking three steps toward and stopping.
His lips pulled up on one side. He might be hers, but she was his. He opened the covers for her and she crawled into them, wrapping herself around him. Her warm presence a soothing balm to his ragged nerves.
She burrowed into him, her head to his chest, her heart beating against his side. She'd sensed his turmoil and had come to offer her comfort. It was so much more than he ever expected and everything he needed.
Somewhere along the way, he'd stopped fighting his need of her. And now it just was. A need as essential as breathing or hydration. She was the beats his heart made, the curve in his smile, the joy in his laugh.
And now, the rest in his night.
“I love you,” she whispered into the dark of the room.
His arms tensed around her, feeling her body heavy with sleep sink further into him. She might not even know she'd said it.
But it didn't change the fact it was true.
21
Brady
The knock on the door startled Brady awake. For a moment, he was completely disoriented and he tried to gain his bearings. Dark hair spread across his bare chest and he automatically sank his fingers into it. Lo stirred against him, her arm heavy around his middle, her cheek pressed to his chest. He took a deep breath, feeling refreshed by everything she had given him with her arms and her heart.
The knock came again and he carefully removed her hand from around him and slid out from underneath Lo and out of the bed. He pulled his jeans on and made his way to the door, flicking a glance at the clock above the microwave on the way by.
It confirmed what he'd already figured out. They'd slept way past noon.
He opened the door to find housekeeping.
“Sorry, we slept in,” he explained. “We should be out in about in an hour.”
The middle-aged woman didn't seem to care. That was management's job. She nodded and knocked on the door across the hall. Brady shut theirs before he saw Serge or Miller.
He didn't want to have to explain his side to Serge. He wasn't sure where his friend would stand, but from past experience, Serge avoided drama. He saw it as a needless waste of energy and didn't get involved. No doubt it contributed to his permanent zen state.
And Miller, well, Brady was afraid he'd finish what he started yesterday.
Just the reminder of Miller existing caused him to clench his fists in frustration. Brady had never disliked someone to this extent. He ground his teeth together as the pressure built in his chest again. The idea of Miller ever having touched Lo, his Lo, made Brady want to break something. Again.
She was soft and wild and sweet and Miller wasn't.
He stood in the doorway of his bedroom, his dark angel still asleep. He didn't want to have to wake her. Didn't want to make her move. He just wanted to take care of her the way she cared for him.
She loved him. She'd said so.
She was his.
He felt badly they were being called home when she was very much alive on this adventure. Hopefully Shane would just give them a slap on the wrist and they could return to this life of freedom. Part of him knew as soon as they returned to California, things would change.
So he held onto this moment, this image of her in his life, loving him.
No matter what happened when they got back, he would earn this again. Or he'd die trying.
***
Live, Love, Tacos
The Blog of Lo Fredericks
Australia
Sometimes I don't look at all and I leap. And I'm not even looking during the leap. I keep flying through the air, the wind on my face, the freedom of the jump the only thing supporting my limbs. There's a certain immunity to consequences when you're not looking. You're just flying.
This has not always been the most effective and beneficial life choice for me. Depending on the context.
In surfing, it has served me well. Allowing the ocean to decide where it wants me, and me figuring out how to ride it to the end has taught me a lot about how the world works.
It has taught me a lot about how my heart works.
This trip to The Gold Coast has been cut short, but I'm hoping to return sooner rather than later.
The board I was provided with this time was amazing. I felt more in control of every little turn, but it did nothing to diminish the power of the wave. The wet suits are always perfection. They fit like they were designed for me. I know Brookings' wife has been the body model for the wet suit creation and it's working. I didn't get a chance to try any of the new bikinis this time but I'm heading home in the morning and I plan on using them during our (hopefully) short break.
Soaring Bird, as a business concept, is run by a man with a team that knows what it feels like to live life in the leap. This trip I began to understand the deeper meaning of the brand name. The equipment doesn't turn you into a master athlete. But it does give an average athlete beautifully crafted wings.
22
Lo
Lo squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. Upon the inhale and rise of her chest, peace infused her limbs and mind.
She'd never come home before.
Not in a traditional fashion.
A nomad by birth, she'd never been allowed to put down roots. For a long time, she believed maybe she didn't actually want roots. Or a home. Or anything solid with which to build the rest of her life on.
But one day, without looking, this place had done just that.
Her covers and the light that streamed through the high window above her bed were easily and tangibly the most beautiful homecoming she could have ever hoped for.
She reached for her watch on the floor beside her bed, fingers searching blindly along the wood before connecting with the leather. She leaned over the side of the
mattress and peered at the face. Only six hours of sleep. That wasn't so bad. She'd slept a little on the plane during their 20 plus hours of travel yesterday.
Could she say yesterday? What was the date here again? Technically it was still today since they'd crossed the international dateline in the middle of the night.
Movement to her left made her smile and her belly fill with whimsical butterflies.
She was thankful Brady had come home with her instead of driving all the way up the beach to his house. He had gotten less sleep than her, he could use the extra rest.
Her body jolted at the sound of keys in her door. She scooped the fluffy white comforter around her as she sat up right. The door flew open and Tess and Spencer boldly stepped into her little one room studio.
“See?” Tessa said, throwing out a hand towards Lo. “Love nest. Just like I said.”
Spencer moved her sunglasses to the top of her head, pushing her hair back.
“What are you doing here?” Lo hissed, frantically pulling the covers up higher on Brady's back. Brady slept in his boxer briefs. Well, at least, he did with her. She didn't know if that was a regular thing or just a little gift he gave to her. Either way, she didn't need her friends getting an eyeful.
“We came to warn you,” Tessa replied lifting an eyebrow.
“Warn me about what?”
“To put clothes on.” She wagged a thumb between her and Spencer. “We've been spending some time with Brady's homies, and they are on their way here. Now.”
“What?” Lo jumped out of the bed and snagged her jeans off the floor.
“What's going on?” Brady asked, his deep rumble filling her small space. The sleepiness in his voice hit her somewhere near her sternum and vibrated all the way through her central nervous system. It was like waking up from a dream and realizing it wasn't over.
Like the Back of My Halo Page 17