Broken Bridges (Bridges Brothers Book 2)

by Lia Fairchild

  Ari gives him a huge smile and reaches her hand out. “Hi, Gramps, I’m Ari.”

  His face lights up, his grin wide, not something he does too often either. It’s not that he’s not a happy guy; it’s just his former Hell’s Angels persona he likes to keep up. “So, this is the little spitfire staying with my grandson.”

  “Gramps, really?” I say.

  “It’s okay,” she says, clasping her hands in front of her. “I’d say pain in the ass is a little more accurate.”

  “Well, I like your spunk, Ari.”

  “Thanks, but I don’t want to cause Mason any trouble. I’ll be out of his hair soon.”

  Her words jar me. I haven’t thought too far ahead, but I suppose she’s right. My time with Ari is limited, and I need to remember that. I look up to catch Gramps’s discerning gaze. He leans in to Ari like he’s sharing a secret but doesn’t lower his voice when he says, “A little trouble would do him good.”

  “Where is everyone?” I ask, hoping to get off the subject of me because either word is spreading or it’s just his natural instinct to know Ari might push my limits.

  “Your dad and Ryder are in the back, messing with that new barbecue. We’ll probably starve before they set it up.”

  “Maybe I can help,” Ari says, looking around as if she’s going to march right out there. “I’m pretty good at figuring things out.”

  “Come on. I’ll introduce you.” Gramps heads to the back patio and we follow.

  Instinctively, I place my hand at the small of her back. When she looks over her shoulder and smiles, I pull it away. This indecision is nerve-racking. I don’t know how to treat this girl. Woman. Shit! I think that’s part of the problem. She made it so damn confusing in the beginning to see who she really is, and now she’s acting like this open book.

  On the back patio, Dad is reading what looks to be the pamphlet for the barbecue while Ryder stands next to him on his phone. “Dude, I told you just watch this video. Those directions are lame as shit.”

  “Fellas, we have a guest.”

  They both look up, Dad somewhat taken aback and Ryder like he just won the Indy 500 and Ari is his personal trophy.

  “Ari, this is my dad, Ed, and my brother, Ryder.”

  My dad shakes Ari’s hand and Ryder plays it cool with a head nod.

  “And I’m Bud,” Gramps says, “but of course, you can call me Gramps.”

  “Where’s everyone else?” I knew my uncle and cousins wouldn’t be here but this is light for a Bridges family get-together.

  “Logan and Mollie should be here soon. And Lou is volunteering at the senior center.”

  “Lou?” Ari asks.

  “That’s Gramps’s woman,” Ryder chimes in.

  “Rebel Ryder, why don’t you make yourself useful and set the table.”

  “I’m helping dad get this thing started.”

  Dad and Gramps both shoot him looks, and his shoulders slump. “Whatever, let’s just order pizza.” The youngest of my three brothers, Ryder, is actually the easiest to like. He might be going through those moody teen years, and he’s crazy into Xtreme sports, but he’s also a sweet kid.

  He lumbers inside, still looking at his phone.

  I watch Ari to see if she’s okay here, the sun making her skin glow. She turns to Gramps and asks, “Why do you call him that?”

  “Rebel Ryder? Been that way since he was little. He’s a dare devil, that one.”

  Ryder thinks he’s going to drive race cars instead of go to college. The family is split on this issue, but I don’t see how it matters much. Ryder will do what he wants.

  “And probably the most trips to the ER,” my Dad adds.

  “What about this one?” Ari asks, throwing a thumb in my direction.

  Both men chuckle and Ari looks at me with a mix of amusement and confusion.

  I scoff. “Thanks.”

  “What? Son, you’re wearing a suit to a barbecue,” my dad says.

  “I had a meeting and then picked up Ari on the way.” Of course I had time to change but honestly I didn’t think about it. And I couldn’t care less if they get a laugh at my expense—well, most of the time.

  “When he was younger, he raised hell with the best of them.” Gramps slaps me on the shoulder.

  “But somewhere along the line, he was less interested in swinging a hammer with me and his brothers and more interested in the numbers and management,” my dad finishes.

  “Do you still work onsite?” Ari asks my dad.

  “Not much. My back and knees don’t like it. And my boy here has a knack for running things, so soon he won’t need me in the office either.”

  “That’s not true, Dad. Actually, I was hoping we could talk more about that other opportunity I mentioned.” I smile, glad to turn the conversation in my favor.

  “Oh?”

  “When Logan gets here, though.”

  “Good, then.” Gramps claps his hands. “Because I think we need to spend some time getting to know Ari. I have a feeling she’s much more interesting than all of us.”

  “You would be right about that, Gramps.”

  “Mason, why don’t you fire up the barbecue so your dad and I can sit and have a drink with Ari.” He looks to her. “That okay with you?”

  “Sure.” She looks to me with a smirk. “You don’t need my help with that?”

  “Funny.”

  “Beer, tea, soda, or something stronger?”

  “How about a beer?” she says.

  “Woman after my own heart.” Behind us, Ryder is setting a stack of paper plates and napkins on the long patio table we’ve had many family meals on. “Rebel Ryder, go grab that sixer of Pete’s Wicked.”

  “When did I become everyone’s personal servant?” he gripes as he pulls back the screen door.

  I watch as Gramps and Dad wander over to the table and Gramps pulls out a chair for Ari. She gives me a sweet smile and a shrug like these two guys are presenting her with a chariot. It feels one hundred percent genuine. This is the real Ari…not the irate “pregnant teen” I met less than a week ago.

  I step over to the new grill we all pitched in on for Dad’s birthday last month. Knowing this is the first time they’ve had a chance to use it gives me a good feeling. Like I haven’t been missing out on my family. When Logan came home three years ago, I didn’t want to admit I felt a little threatened by his role. Suddenly, everyone relied on him and I didn’t make it easy on him. Thankfully we’re all good now and I can’t wait to work side-by-side in our business with my brother.

  Keeping my eye on Ari, I pull my jacket off and drape it over a chaise. I see her glance over a couple of times, and I like that she’s still thinking of me when she’s talking with them.

  I check the line and the tank to make sure everything is connected properly before starting it up. I close the lid and pick up the directions when my dad calls over to me. “You need to let it burn for about twenty minutes.”

  “I can read, Dad.”

  When I finish, I join them at the table where all three sit with a bottle of beer in front of them. I take one for myself and pop it open, just listening to their already in progress conversation. I’m hoping to hear something new I didn’t already know, so I sit back and enjoy my beer…and the show. Ari shows no signs of feeling awkward or being uncomfortable. She asks as many questions as she answers but for some reason doesn’t ask any more about me. I’m not sure how I feel about that.

  At some point, Ryder pokes his head out and claims he forgot about a study session for finals. He still has one more week of school, so neither Dad nor Gramps questions him.

  Voices travel through the window and I see Logan and Mollie heading toward us.

  “Perfect timing,” Gramps says. “I bet the grill is ready.”

  We all get up to greet them before Dad and Gramps excuse themselves to the grill and do their standard arguing about when the meat is done.

  “Nice suit, boss,” Logan says.

  “T
hanks. You stop at the flea market on the way here?” I tug at his faded blue T-shirt and he flicks my hand away.

  I introduce Logan and Mollie to Ari because Logan never got to meet Ari the day he was supposed to pick her up.

  Logan gives me a look I can’t read but don’t like.

  Mollie is, of course, her usual sweet self. “I heard you’re very talented. I’d love to see your work sometime.”

  “I don’t have much to show, really. It’s all…in storage.”

  Though my family doesn’t know the extent of Ari’s circumstances, Mollie knows whatever Logan told her. I’m glad I didn’t tell Logan any of the stuff about Ari’s ex-boyfriend, or that in the next couple weeks I may or may not be assisting in a burglary. What I didn’t want Ari to know is that—thanks to a slip from Logan—Gramps might know what happened at the bar, which I assume is why he made those comments earlier.

  I don’t know if I’m trying to fill the awkward silence or if I’m just that stupid because I don’t think before I speak next. “Come over to my place and you can see some of her work right in the kitchen.”

  Mollie’s brows knit together. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean she literally painted a picture in my kitchen.” And the verdict is in: Stupid.

  Logan chuckles. I glance to Ari and for the first time, her smile fades, uneasiness sweeping across her face. I hate that I put that there, so I try to recover. “It’s really amazing. My place definitely needed some color.”

  “That’s for sure,” Logan agrees.

  Ari offers a reluctant grin for my damage control efforts, but I’m not sure it was enough. It’s frustrating not knowing how she feels about me. Hell, I haven’t been sure about that since the day I met her, but I don’t want her upset at me.

  She’s quieter for the rest of the night and I hate that it’s my fault. There’s no rule book for this situation, but I can admit I should have talked with her ahead of time, found out what she wanted others to know. Which is why I decide to cut my conversation short with Logan and my dad about the business. That and because I can’t keep my eyes from drifting in her direction as she chats with Mollie. The important thing is that they are both onboard with my flipping houses plan—which is good because I’ve already set things in motion. Though this will be something new for us, Dad has always put his trust in me to make decisions for the business.

  We say our goodbyes and it’s a fairly quiet ride home. Just as I’m hoping she felt okay with my family today, she says. “I really like your family.”

  “Thanks. I like them too.”

  “Your dad is like the strong silent type, and I can tell Gramps used to be a ladies’ man. That’s where Justice gets it from.”

  “Damn you’re good.”

  A few more minutes and I pull into the driveway and turn to her. “Hang on a sec.”

  “What’s up?”

  Though she doesn’t seem upset at me and has probably moved on, it seems like the right thing to do. “I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable in there…by what I said.”

  “It’s fine. Like I said, your family is sweet.” She rubs her bare arms as if she just got a chill, and it takes a considerable effort not to respond to her needs.

  “I shouldn’t have mentioned the kitchen thing. You seemed upset after that.”

  She tilts her head and gives me a pointed look. “Mason, why does it matter?” I don’t know how to answer that but thankfully, she continues. “It caught me off guard because I don’t know what you’ve told them about me, and I didn’t want them to think I was some freeloading psycho trashing your house.” By the time she gets to the end, her tone is shaky.

  “Hey…” I gently place my hand around her forearm. “I’d never paint you in that light. And I told you, only Logan knows how we really met.”

  “So, he didn’t share with his wife?”

  Darkness surrounds us but I don’t need to see her shadowy expression; her tone says enough.

  “Sorry, I didn’t ask, and you’re right to assume that. They’re very close.”

  She’s quiet a moment and I can hear the faint sound of crickets outside the window. “I actually like them both.” She puts her hand over mine. “And I like you, Mason. But this whole thing feels so…strange. Like we’re pretending to be something we’re not.”

  She wants me to refute it. I can feel the prompting in her words, see the longing in her eyes under the faint light of the moon. It would be easy to give in—to take her straight to my bed. As badly as I want that right now and as wrong as that might be. I can’t help what I feel. But…I can help what I do.

  “Ari, you’re an incredible girl—”

  “Woman,” she reminds me, rubbing her thumb along my wrist and causing my pulse to spike. “I know I just sort of plowed into your life. And I made things confusing as hell at first, but I’m not seventeen, Mason, and I’m not pregnant, or some delinquent. I’m…”

  “Complicated.” I reach up and slide the back of my hand down her cheek and settle it under her chin, tempting us both as we lock eyes.

  “You sure about that?” Her gaze travels to my lips and back up.

  “It’s better than saying pain in the ass.”

  She can’t help her grin but quickly hides it away. “Maybe you’re the complicated one, Mason.”

  She might be right, but in that moment, when she leans slightly into me, all the complications slip away as I lift her chin and her lips part. I lower my head until our mouths are an inch apart, but I can still see her chest rise with the fullness of her breaths. I bring my lips to hers with just a gentle brush at first. And damn it if that soft moan of hers doesn’t draw me in like a magnet. I press against her harder, her tongue waiting for my entrance. Ari’s fingers slide through my hair as I bring my hand to her neck, ensuring our solid connection. Fire igniting in me mixes with the frustration of not being able to get as close as possible. Our kiss grows hungry, and we groan against each other’s open mouths like two horny teenagers.

  I pull away on a deep inhale, catching her lusty dark gaze. She slides her hand down my chest and leaves it resting there, likely feeling the hard thrum of my heartbeat.

  I have to fight to keep this fire contained before it becomes an all-out blaze. I take hold of her wrist and steel myself. “Ari, this needs to stop…right here. Before we get inside.”

  She raises a challenging brow. “That’s what you want?”

  With a thin smile, I reply, “Want is not the primary factor here.”

  Her expression goes from playful to serious. “Why? What about what I want?”

  Still holding her wrist, I move her arm away and place her hand in her lap. “Ari, if I did what I want we’d be in there”—I gesture toward the house with my head—“right now.”

  “So…”

  “Hate to keep using this word but it’s complicated…and you know it. I took you in to help you and if I give in to whatever this is happening, that just makes me… Well, it will all seem like—” I can’t even say the words. I’m drawn to Ari, more strongly than I care to admit, but this is not the way to start something if I care about her at all.

  “You’re right,” she says abruptly and turns to the door. She opens it but pauses before getting out. “The timing is crap, and you got roped into this situation. Let’s keep things simple.”

  “Ari—”

  But she’s already walking up to the door before I can say anything more. The sad reality is that what she said is the truth, and it’s for the best. The problem is that I’m left with a boulder in my gut and an aching my chest I’ve never felt in my life.

  Chapter 12

  Ari

  I hadn’t considered June gloom when I put on a tank and ripped jean shorts this morning. Granted, I don’t have much to choose from because Alex barely let me walk out with the small bag he’d caught me packing. Last night Mollie was sweet enough to offer—in a subtle way—to lend me clothes or whatever I needed. I hate that Mason’s family sees me as a
charity case, even if that’s what I am. I don’t know if that’s worse or having them know the real reason I have nothing and no place to go. That’s why working and keeping busy serves as a small respite for my worries and helps me earn some money. Except for today, of course, because I’m working for free.

  I look down at the small gardening tool in my hand, wishing it was a paint brush. I’ll have to give Ray some crap about this bait and switch. Painting my ass. Would he think me a hypocrite, complaining about doing a good deed when that’s exactly what others are doing for me? Though Ray doesn’t know my situation, he’s smart enough to see I’m not their typical hire.

  I’ve only weeded about a third of this section of the yard in this quiet, over-sixty community, and my stomach is already rumbling. I glance at my phone but I know lunch is a ways away. A shadow falls over me as I squat in the un-manicured section of yard I was assigned. “Took you long enough,” I say and crane my neck up. “Oh, what are you doing here?”

  “Same as you.” Mason looms over me, wearing jeans and a navy blue T-shirt stretched nicely across his broad chest. His hands are in his pockets as if he just stepped out of the dressing room to get my opinion.

  I think I like him this way better than in a suit. And if I wasn’t so surprised to see him, I might have enjoyed the view a little more. “Ray said you don’t come to these.” So, are you here because of me?

  “Well, maybe it’s time I changed that.” He smiles and kneels down next to me. “You want to hand me that extra one?” He points to the trowel a few feet from me.

  I smile back but stand instead of complying. “Kerry’s in charge. She’s in the back so you might want to ask her where she wants you.”

  He stands and seems to consider my directions, a slight crease forming between his brows.

  “Yeah, man,” Justice says, coming up behind Mason and planting a hand on his shoulder. “But thanks for holding my spot for me.”

  Mason looks over his shoulder with his eyes narrowed. “What are you doing here, little brother? Don’t you have some therapy or something?”

  “I invited him,” I say quickly. “Well, I asked him for a ride and then invited him.”