“Did you hear that Uncle Matt and my dad have sucked yours into their crazy Rube Goldberg competition? Don’t be too surprised if your folks go to Arizona while we’re on our honeymoon.” He cracked up laughing and winked at her. “Would serve Drae right too, if they did. He’s in charge of the Villa while we’re gone. Can you imagine how crazy it’ll make him to have Parker’s parents, my parents, and your parents all behaving badly under one roof? Better tell him to lock up the wine cellar, huh?”
She giggled. “Add Calder and Stephanie. Angie reports that they’re sitting at the adult table with the rest of them.”
As they reached the heavy wood and stained glass doors that opened into the banquet space, Alex smiled into her eyes. “Let’s go show ‘em all how it’s done, my sexy as fuck Irish goddess.”
“Such a charming way with words.” She laughed as the door pushed open and they stepped together into a family celebration of their love.
Brody watched with avid interest as Alex and Meghan made the rounds of the room crammed with Family Justice, plus the O’Briens, and their extended family. They looked fantastic together. Meghan, of course, was a made-to-order dream girl in Irish green with her mass of auburn curls on top of her head.
But Alex, on the other hand—good grief. Who knew he could look so runway ready? He was impressed. The suit he had on was perfect. So was the green tie with the small Celtic knot tie tack Brody spied. All the guy needed was a couple of shamrocks and a shillelagh gripped in his hand to make him an honorary Irishman.
“They make a handsome couple,” Heather remarked quietly.
“Yes, they do.”
Seated at a table with the Camerons and the St. Johns, lunch had gone amazingly well. As he knew they would, Tori and Lacey immediately claimed Heather as one of their own, and though his lady seemed a bit overwhelmed by it all, she was having a good time.
Scooting closer to him, she slipped her hand into his. “Thank you for bringing me.”
He didn’t want to get his hopes up but so far so good. All these people, even the ones he was just meeting for the first time today, were tied to Alex and Meghan in some way. The entire group was friendly, welcoming, happy for the bridal couple, and ready to party. The perfect time to bring Heather into the picture.
Staring at their twined fingers, he wondered about her unexpected embrace of the unusual situation. She was usually the wallflower around people, but for some reason, this weird gathering brought out a different side to his lady. A side he was thoroughly enjoying.
Swiftly kissing her fingers, he dropped their clasped hands into his lap and gave a little squeeze. “If I’d known you were rocking bartending skills, I would have brought you out before this.”
She smirked. This was his new gambit. Instead of letting her shoulder having been the one to demand things stay one-dimensional in their relationship, he was cracking jokes about being the foot dragger. Heather knew exactly what he was doing but hadn’t him on it.
“I’m serious,” she murmured. “You were right. They’re all great people.”
Cam, who was sitting on Heather’s other side, leaned in and added his two cents. “Keep in mind that we’re all on our best behavior. You may want to reserve judgment for a bit.”
Tori started to laugh. Lacey smiled and bobbed her head. Drae just snickered. He shook his head at Heather hoping to reassure her.
“Remember the open mic talent show at the college last year?” When she nodded, he piled on. “Think that, only with rivers of alcohol and a group of people with no shame who willingly jump in the spotlight and make fools of themselves.”
“Hey.” Tori laughed. “I take exception to that comment, Mr. Jensen. Boots, Ass, and Sass are a crowd favorite, I’ll have you know. And when Desert Angel makes a guest appearance, it’s S-R-O, pal.”
“S-R-O?”
“Standing room only,” he quipped to Heather. “And maybe that has something to do with those outfits y’all wear,” he replied to Tori.
“Hold on,” his date said. “Does all that singing you do in the shower and what you and Calder were talking about on the plane have anything to do with this dinner?”
Brody saw Alex approaching with Meghan’s hand in a firm grip and waved the conversation to a halt. Drae persisted, though, with one last comment. “We’re pretending it’s a surprise for the bride, so shhh,” he jested with his finger to his mouth.
“Fuck. I need a drink,” Alex said as they sidled up to their table. “That was worse than the gauntlet run, man. Why didn’t anyone tell me that making nice was so exhausting?”
Pulling up a chair, Alex rather deliberately wedged his right next to Heather’s then without giving Meghan a chance to sit, pulled his fiancée onto his lap.
“Okay, that’s more like it,” he joked. Banging his fist on the table like a conqueror of old, he demanded, “Glenfiddich all around.”
Meghan’s expression when he did was priceless. Tori said, “Irish, what the hell? Did you let this heathen corrupt you?”
Brody couldn’t help but bust out laughing when the snarky bride answered, “Let him have his little victory. Doesn’t change anything, though,” she snickered. “Glenfiddich is for pussies and that’s all I’m saying.”
Heather looked at him and choked back a laugh. He’d warned her about the whiskey rivalry, so at least, she knew what the hell was going on.
Drae chimed in when a waiter appeared carrying a bottle and a stack of glasses. “Did that sound to anyone like a certain Irish bombshell has something sneaky up her sleeve?”
Brody answered first. “Damn. I hope so.”
Cam took the bottle and poured out eight drinks. Heather raised an eyebrow that he acknowledged by handing her the drink. “When in Rome,” he jested and clinked her glass.
All eyes turned to Alex. Even Heather’s. That hadn’t taken long, he thought. Even a newcomer knew who the lead alpha was.
“To Justice,” was all he offered as a toast. Nothing else was necessary. A chorus of voices repeated, “Justice,” before downing the double shots.
Shit. The whiskey burned the whole way down and made his eyes water. But his date? She shot the Glenfiddich back like it was water, released a dramatic, “Ahhhh,” then upended the empty glass and slammed it rim down onto the table.
Impressive.
The men didn’t react. Not exactly. The women, however, broke out into gales of laughter and followed suit, slamming the empty glasses with a clamor that drew the attention of other tables.
It was Meghan who shook things up when she speared him a look and hooted, “Better be bringing your A game Brody because we like your Heather.”
“And we’re keeping her,” Tori added.
“Change approved.” Lacey giggled.
Heather? She just sat there and grinned.
“Oopsie,” she trilled with drunken laughter when she stumbled off the curb and landed in Brody’s capable arms. “Just testing,” Heather quipped with a slap on his chest. “Said you’d fall my catch.”
Scrambling into the cab, she remembered at the last second that she was wearing a skirt and maybe should make some sort of attempt to get her shit together before she flashed an entire sidewalk teeming with people.
Landing with an inelegant grunt, she pulled her legs in far enough for Brody to have some room. After giving the driver an address, he pulled her playfully onto his lap and pretended to cover her mouth with his hand.
“You shush and just listen.”
Shoving his hand away, she slurred, “Shush ‘n’ listen? Isn’t that a musical group?” then almost fell out of his arms because she was laughing so hard. “Oh god, I’m sorry,” she tried to say, but the laughter kept coming.
After a minute or three, she clamped her mouth shut, waved him on, and did her very best to sit still and behave. Not an easy thing when she started thinking about how yummy her man looked in his sexy gray suit.
“You finished?” he asked.
Heather looked at him sharp
ly, surprised by his stern tone, only to find him smiling at her. She nodded and slipped her hands inside his suit jacket.
“We have a couple of hours to kill before everyone meets up for dinner. So what’s your pleasure, m’lady? Coffee? A greasy burger? A nap?”
Coffee? Ew, yuck. Squirming on his lap, she excitedly pleaded for a stop at Starbucks. “I need a caramel mocha frappe.” She thought for a moment and added, “And a cookie.” Then, without missing a beat, she whined, “I don’t like these buttons. It has too many shirts.”
Damn. Her fingers felt like chopsticks held by clumsy hands as she tried to slide each tiny white button through its tiny white button hole. It really shouldn’t be this difficult …
Brody took her hands in his and held them still as he leaned forward to speak to the driver. “Nearest Starbucks and then the Copley Square on Huntington Avenue.”
“Can I look in your wallet? Tori said I should check yours. Something about … I don’t know.” She shrugged. “Don’t remember.”
“You are a piece of work when you’re lit.” He chuckled. “Leave the buttons as they are and we’ll negotiate the wallet inspection. After you’ve eaten something.”
Negotiate? Did he say negotiate? Oh, my god. Last time they negotiated, she chopped up a t-shirt and he melted her eyeballs with his tighty-whities.
Feeling like she’d just been scolded, Heather sat sullenly and eyed his button up shirt like it was responsible for global warming. She mumbled a bunch of nonsensical junk about cowboys and tan lines while Brody held her hands and smirked.
After going through the drive-thru, he handed her a venti frappe piled with whipped cream that she devoured until a bad case of brain freeze hit. Just like that, her alcohol buzz backed off.
By the time they got back to the hotel, he’d had half a coffee, they’d both put away a warm chocolate chip cookie, and she’d sucked down enough of the sweet drink to reconnect with feeling human. Now, instead of fighting the alcohol, all she could focus on was getting her laid-back cowboy naked. And quickly.
Luckily, the sidewalk wasn’t wobbly when she got out of the cab, but she was damn glad for Brody’s arm when he came to her side. As they made their way through the lobby, she tugged and asked, “Do you have to check on Zeus?”
“She’s having a ball in doggie daycare. They have a web camera that I’ve been keeping an eye on all afternoon, and I’ve left instructions with hotel staff. She’ll be fine.”
In the elevator, she did a quick review. The dog was fine. They had a couple of hours to kill. Sugar was running through her system and he still had that damn shirt on. Hmph. Well, she’d just see about that.
“Do you like my skirt?” she asked. The shiny elevator walls showed her turning this way and that. “I think it’s too plain,” she wailed. “All the other ladies were dressed like models.”
“Models?” He snorted. “Who the fuck are you talking about? Stephanie maybe, and that’s only because of the beauty queen title. But the rest?”
His shrug was ten kinds of cute, but seriously, was he fucking blind? They were all so sexy and sexy was not something she knew how to do. Not with her clothes on, anyway.
The minute the elevator opened, Heather grabbed Brody’s hand and stomped to the end of the hallway.
“Are we in a hurry?” he joked when she told him to get the damn door open.
She remembered seeing an indie movie once about a geisha and a businessman who had a torrid affair. The film was a dud, except for the love scenes, and without giving it any more thought, Heather found herself playing the geisha to Brody’s hunky businessman. You take your inspiration however it comes, she reasoned.
Tossing the room card on a table, he emptied his pockets too and even laid his wallet out where she could see it. Why was she supposed to pick through it? She couldn’t remember. That part of the afternoon’s fun and games was a bit fuzzy. But Tori insisted and the little dynamo’s husband laughed, so there had to be a good reason. Well, she’d address the wallet later. Right now, she wanted him wearing a lot less clothing.
Kicking off her shoes Heather helped her cowboy shed the suit jacket. Carefully peeling it off his back, she draped it over her arm and hung the gray jacket over a chair.
“You seem to have a plan, m’lady,” he teased. “Am I playing my part right?”
Oh. So he wanted to play. Cool. She’d save the geisha routine for another time. Going to the desk, she pulled out the armless chair and sat down. Crossing her legs, she gave him what she sincerely hoped was a salacious look and not a whiskey-infused sneer.
“Strip for me, cowboy,” she demanded. Leaning back in the chair, she let her gaze travel at a snail’s pace, sighing with desire as she took in the hot vision before her. She’d seen him in a suit thousands of times, but this … this was something different. The man was dripping with sexy. Maybe it was the vest—she’d never given a three piece much thought before, but holy mother of god, did he ever make the formal attire look yummy.
Without missing a beat, he stood before her and took his good old time taking off his clothes. He unbuttoned his cuffs then loosened the tie. When he pulled the piece of silk from around his neck, he tossed it at her with a sly smirk. “Maybe you can think of a way to put that to use.”
She squirmed in the seat. Every time he brought this up, she resisted just a little bit less.
The buttons on the vest were next. One. Two. Three. Four. Heather sighed and bit her bottom lip when the sexy vest came off. Cowboys wore vests, right? They should, she thought.
Unlike when she carefully put his suit jacket on a chair, the vest got dropped in a pile on the floor. She twisted the tie round and round her hands as she watched. He pulled the tails of his shirt from the gray slacks that molded his sturdy thighs and started to loosen the buttons. When the shirt was undone, he left it hanging open and went to work on the buckle of his belt.
Heather was developing a lusty fascination with his belts. Especially the ones with the big silver buckles that he wore with jeans. She stopped breathing when his hands went for the zipper of his pants. He had great hands. Big and sturdy but never clumsy. Watching the way he held the fabric and deftly lowered the zipper, taking extra care around the prominent bulge pressing the front of the sexy dress slacks, she wondered from his standpoint how it felt to be on display. Whether he was doing this because he was a guy and guys got naked with alarming nonchalance or because he knew how turned on she was.
ALL OF A sudden, Brody didn’t feel like playing. He didn’t have a reason why; he just wanted something different. Something meaningful. Being around everyone today reminded him what was possible. Especially Alex and Meghan. Did he have a big case of hero worship going on? Probably. But the bottom line was that when he looked at the happy couple, he didn’t see all the wedding hoopla. He saw two people passionately committed to each other and wondered what that felt like.
His gaze drifted over the woman with the lusty expression who was eating him alive with her eyes. I want what they have, and I want it with her.
“Where is this going, sweetheart?”
She stopped salivating at his stripper performance and looked him straight in the eye. Her face was luminous and had a vulnerable quality to her expression. Seeing it made him want to gather her close and kiss away her fears.
“I want,” she murmured so quietly he had to strain to listen. “I need you to make love to me.”
Had he heard her right? Lord, he hoped so. “Are you sure?” He had to ask ‘cause that was not how this started out. “I’m feeling a fuck me vibe but that’s so not what I want from you.”
She reached into her hair and pulled out the clip holding it up. As the long brown waves fell across her shoulders, she looked at him clear-eyed. Not a trace of their earlier booze buzz clouded her response.
“It started that way,” she admitted. “But I don’t want that either.”
“What do you want?” Such a simple question but with so much riding on the answer.
She took a deep breath. “I don’t want to be afraid anymore.”
Brody knew his face registered surprise.
“I want to know what it’s like to feel … sexy.” She hung her head after the startling declaration.
Oh, my god. Did she not know? How was that possible? Just looking at her made him horny as fuck. And being around her? Discovering the real woman she’d been so afraid to set free? Knowing he’d helped do that for her made his heart do all sorts of unfamiliar things.
“And I want to make you smile. And laugh. Like your Justice friends do with their women.”
He had his answer, but what she admitted had to come at a cost. She was the bravest woman he’d ever known.
Taking hold of a cuff, he pulled his arm from the sleeve of the dress shirt then slid it off his other shoulder and down the other arm. “I can help you stop being afraid.”
Her voice sounded broken when she cried, “How?”
No. He couldn’t have it. Hearing the sadness overtake her was not okay and never would be. “Let me in, Heather. I’ll make sure you feel sexy every single day. And darlin’,” he drawled in his best cowboy twang, “you already make me smile. And laugh.”
She offered a shy smile that made his heart pound. “Let me love you.” Her soft gasp filled his senses. “Let me love you, Heather, and I swear, you’ll never have any reason to be afraid ever again.”
She was so motionless he wasn’t sure she was breathing. He understood that kind of stillness. It was something he excelled at but for very different reasons.
“Why?” It was a cry from her heart. “Why would you want me? Brody, I’m damaged. Fucked up.” She grunted and visibly shook. “I don’t know that I’ll ever be…”
She didn’t finish, so he did. “You’ll ever be what? Normal? Is that what you can’t say? Shit, Heather. Who the fuck is normal these days? You think I’m normal? Pfft. Earlier today, I told a bunch of people I love like family that I could take them out at a hundred yards. You think that was normal?”
Sanctuary (Family Justice Book 3) Page 38