The Hot Brother (Romance Love Story) (Hargrave Brothers - Book #5)

by Alexa Davis

  "Wait a minute, that's not fair!" I shouted. "You're the one who is always bouncing between extremes, not me!"

  "What the hell are you talking about?" he shouted.

  "I mean, you're in love with a new woman every other week, but you can't see the forest for the trees!" I yelled. I had a vague sense in the back of my mind that I was now being unreasonable, but Roger had a tendency to push me over the edge – kind of like my brother, Teddy, did.

  "What the hell does my love life have to with this firm's clients?" he yelled.

  "It's an indication of your inability to make sound judgments when it comes to clients and business!" I knew I was treading on thin ice, but my frustration overruled my brain and I headed perilously close to the edge.

  "Oh really?" Roger said with a raised eyebrow. "If we're going to start judging each other based on our romantic relationships, then I'd say that you're at the base of our problem, Brooke."

  "What the hell are you talking about?"

  "You take perfectly good men and crush them under the weight of your expectations about how much they can take when it comes to your devotion to your job," he said calmly. "I'd say that about defines the problem, wouldn't you?"

  Dumbfounded, I stared at Roger. He'd hit a nerve and I could feel the blow reverberating through my body. I took a deep breath and said, "Fuck you, Roger."

  "Truth hurts, doesn't it, baby girl?"

  "Dammit, you two!" Jordie shouted. "I'm so sick and tired of your constant attempts to top each other and prove you're each the alpha dog. Fuck you both! This is my firm, too, and I want to do something to save it, not tear it apart and leave the pieces in the gutter!"

  No one said a word for a couple of minutes and then Roger muttered, "I'm sorry."

  "Me too," I replied.

  "Back to work?" Jordie said hopefully.

  "Back to work." I nodded and we sat down and started to map out a plan for saving our law firm.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Dax

  Hundreds of well-dressed young people came to Apex looking to dance, drink, and hopefully hook up. I aimed to give them everything they were looking for – and then some. A good portion of the club-goers had already been screened and checked and would be allowed into the roped-off portion of the club, where they could discreetly buy drugs from a number of waitresses who silently circulated carrying old-fashioned cigar trays on their voluptuous chests.

  I watched the club fill up from my vantage point in the office above the dance floor and tried to figure out how I would manage to keep things running smoothly until Lydia returned. This had happened before, and I knew she wouldn't be gone long. It's just that this was the first time anyone except me knew that she was missing. All the other times, she'd called me from a sleazy motel somewhere outside of town and begged me to come pick her up, and every time I would.

  At one point, I'd thought Lydia was the one. A leggy redhead whose personal and professional attitudes were the exact same, I admired her strength and was aroused by the challenge she constantly presented. The problem was that Lydia and I were so completely combustible and once her match lit my gasoline, we had problems. We spent a couple of years going back to each other again and again with disastrous results until we agreed that we could work together and, eventually, be friends, but we couldn't keep trying to make a relationship work – no matter how hot the sex was.

  Lydia lived life on the edge. She hated being bored and lived for the thrill of new experiences, which was probably why she loved working with me. Once we'd set the boundaries of our professional relationship – and stuck to them – she went out looking for something to fill the space. I was often tempted to get back together with her just to stop the downward spiral of self-destruction, but she wouldn't allow it. So, I watched from the sidelines and cleaned up the messes.

  Meanwhile, Lydia kept my organization out of trouble with the courts. She bailed my corner boys out and prevented the police from raiding the club or my hotel over on Grand Ave. No matter how messed up her personal life was, she kept her professional life in tiptop shape. I knew she’d been working on a new deal that would have put the firm on solid ground in the legitimate legal world. I knew she had worked incredibly hard to establish herself as a lawyer that people could trust. I was worried about this disappearance – it wasn't like her.

  I looked back down at the floor and saw Beck walking toward the bar, closely followed by Riza. He seemed oblivious to her presence as he had a small curvy brunette tucked under his arm. She looked familiar, but I couldn't place her. Riza looked up at the two-way mirror and raised an eyebrow, then looked back at Beck and his date.

  I quickly tapped out a message on the screen of my phone and hit send. I looked back down at the floor and saw Riza glance at her phone, then look up and nod. She turned and walked toward the back of the club, leaving Beck and his girl at the bar.

  "He picked her up on Flower and then went to dinner before heading over here," Riza said as she walked into the office. "Seems legit, but I don't recognize her."

  "I do," I said. "But I don't know why."

  "You think she's a plant?"

  "I don't know, but I do know that Beck is dumb enough not to recognize her if she is," I said as I looked out over the club and watched him falling for the petite girl. The feeling that I knew her was nagging at me, but we had bigger fish to fry. "Did you find out anything about Lydia?"

  "Nah, no one's talking," she replied. "But I get the feeling that someone knows something. I just don't know who that someone is."

  "Ri, do you think she's okay?" I asked.

  "No idea, boss," she said. Her answer unnerved me because I knew that it meant that she was worried, too. If Riza had been sure that Lydia was just on another bender, she would have already tracked her down.

  "Something feels very wrong, but I don't know what it is," I said. "We need to get a handle on this situation and lock it down, Ri. Otherwise, we're going to be hemorrhaging before we know it."

  "What do you want me to do?"

  "I want you to find Lydia and then figure out who this girl is that Beck's hooked up with," I said as I looked back out over the dance floor and watched Beck slow dancing to fast music with the little brunette. His hands were cupping her ass and the two of them were kissing. "And get them the fuck off the dance floor before they wind up getting arrested for indecent exposure, would you?"

  "Sure thing, boss." Riza grinned as she saluted and headed for the door. Before she exited, she turned and said softly, "Dax, it's going to be okay. I'll find Lydia and make sure that Beck doesn't make an ass of himself."

  "I hope so," I said as I massaged my temples and watched the floor. "I sure as hell hope you can work your magic to keep us out of trouble."

  "I got your back, boss," she said and then she was gone.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Brooke

  Once we'd all calmed down, Roger, Jordie, and I spent the rest of the day mapping out a plan of attack. We decided to launch an Internet campaign that would be directed at those who ran with a faster and looser crowd than we'd been used to representing and see what it brought in.

  Roger and Jordie had come up with a slogan that was both humorous and serious, even Alma chuckled when she typed up a copy of the flyer that read, "If you've got 99 problems, don't let your lawyer be one of them!". I wasn't sure I agreed with the approach, but since I couldn't come up with a reason why we shouldn't do it – and because I was still smarting from Roger's accusation – I went with the guys and threw myself into the process of attracting more business.

  The three of us split up and took separate sections of town where we'd hand out the flyers and make contact with people who'd be likely to send clients our way. My stops were all of the bail bond places on Skid Row. I smiled and handed out flyers and cards as I made it clear that no case was too small and no problem too big for us to handle. The people in the bail bond offices nodded, took the flyers, and then went back to processing the bonds necessary for
their clients to get out of jail.

  After the fifth less-than-enthusiastic response, I felt let down and knew I needed to change my attitude. So, I drove by the fire station looking for my brother, Teddy. As usual, he was in the kitchen, whipping up dinner.

  "Brookie!" he shouted. "Come here and help me stir this pot!"

  "Teddy, you know I don't cook," I laughed.

  "This isn't technically cooking," he shot back. "It's stirring, there's a difference. Believe me."

  "Fine, whatever." I walked over and took the spoon out of his hand as he leaned in and kissed my cheek.

  "It's good to see you, Sis," he smiled. "What brings you down to the good old 28?"

  "I just wanted to check on you and see what you were doing," I said nonchalantly.

  "Mom sent you?" he asked.

  "No! I came of my own accord!" I laughed.

  "Oooh, such big words for such a little girl!" he teased. "You'd think you were a lawyer or something! Oh wait, you are, aren't you?"

  "You're such an ass," I said as I shifted my stance and hip bumped him hard enough to send him shuffling sideways a few steps.

  "Watch it, little sis!" he laughed. "I'm working with hot stuff here!"

  "What is it you're cooking, anyway?" I asked as I stuck the spoon into the red sauce bubbling on the stove and gave it a few stirs.

  "Spaghetti Bolognese!" he said as he focused his attention on a sizzling skillet full of ground beef. The smell was intoxicating, but then, Teddy was an extraordinary cook. He'd been cooking since he was nine. My parents had tried to convince him to open a restaurant, but he'd said that having to do it professionally would take the fun out of something he enjoyed. So he joined the fire department and volunteered to cook for his crew. This made him the single most popular fire fighter in the department. Everyone wanted to work with Teddy Raines. But to me, he was just my annoyingly protective big brother.

  "It smells amazing," I said as I continued to stir the sauce that I knew full well didn't need stirring. "You're a genius when it comes to food, Teddy."

  "Aw, thanks, Sis," he smiled as he carefully browned the beef, adding a few more herbs and some garlic. "But really, why are you here?"

  "Teddy, am I unreasonable?" I asked, barreling into the discussion.

  "Define unreasonable," he said.

  "I mean, do I have unrealistic expectations of men in my life?" I continued. "Do I crush men under the weight of my expectations?"

  "Who fed you that bullshit?" he asked.

  "Just someone who was making an observation about why I'm not able to maintain a relationship," I admitted. "I just can't tell if it's true or not."

  "Sis, aside from the fact that you're my pesky little kid sister, you're not any more unreasonable than any other human being on the planet," he said. "You just have high expectations because you were raised by two extraordinary individuals who taught you to believe that you have value and worth."

  "But does that make it impossible for me to maintain a relationship with a man?" I asked.

  "It might," he said as he pulled the skillet off the stove and siphoned off the grease. "But is that such a bad thing? I mean, do you know how many women I've dated who have exceptionally low expectations?"

  "No," I said. "How many?"

  "Too many," he said as he carefully patted the meat with a paper towel, removing the last bits of grease. Watching Tommy cook was like watching a master painter or sculptor. He did every step with care and focus and that was the reason his food was so intensely delicious. "It's hard to respect a woman who lowers her standards to meet whatever anyone offers her. Gina was the first woman who didn't do that, you know?"

  "Is that what you like about her? Her high expectations?" I asked.

  "Hell yeah, I love that about her," he said as he carefully folded the brown seasoned beef into the pot I was stirring. The scent wafted upward and I felt dizzy as I inhaled. "She doesn't let me get away with anything, and that inspires me to aim higher and achieve more, but she loves me unconditionally, too. Her thing is that if I try and fail, it's a thousand times better than never trying at all."

  "I did not know she was such a motivator," I said as I looked down into the pot and continued stirring.

  "Why do you think I took the Lieutenant's exam last winter?" he asked.

  "Gina put you up to that?"

  "No, she simply told me that if I didn't try, I'd regret it. Because it was obvious to her that I had the skills, intelligence, and experience to make a great Lieutenant," he said. "How could I not try after that glowing appraisal?"

  "But you're a total jackass." I grinned into the pot, bracing for what would come next.

  "Indeed I am, Sis," he laughed. "Here, put this in the pot, will you?"

  "You didn't noogie me," I said surprised that for once in his life my brother had not put me in a half-nelson and rubbed his knuckles into my head.

  "I'm on duty," he grinned. "You'll get yours later. Why don't you stay for dinner?"

  "I'd love to, but I need to get these flyers out and Mom's expecting me," I said.

  "You don't want to see Jake," he said.

  "Well, there's that," I nodded.

  "He's engaged, you know," Teddy said.

  "Yeah, I'd heard that."

  "Then you two should be able to sit at opposite ends of the table and not start World War III," he said. "Stay and have dinner with me, please?"

  "Hey, that wasn't my fault," I protested. "He started it and finished it. I was just dragged along for the ride."

  "Sis, I know," Teddy said as he patted my shoulder. "You give as good as you get."

  "Whatever," I grumbled as I stirred a little faster.

  "Hey, hey, hey, easy on my sauce," he said as he took the spoon and lifted it to his lips. "Ahhh, the perfect sauce for the perfect noodles!"

  "You are such a weirdo when it comes to food," I laughed.

  "Never heard you complain about a meal I made," he replied as he turned and pulled the bread out of the oven. "Now, go call the crew to dinner, will you?"

  #

  "Be nice," Teddy whispered, as he set the steaming bowls of pasta down on the table and then sat next to me.

  "I'll do my best," I said through gritted teeth as I watched Jake Conner take his seat on the other end of the table.

  "Hey, Brooke," he called as he helped himself to leafy green salad. "Glad you could join us!"

  "Are you now?" I asked and cried out as I felt Teddy's work boot connect with my ankle. "I mean, it's really nice to be here."

  "How have you been?" Jake asked. "I hear the law firm is doing well."

  "It's a challenge," I admitted. "We're trying to drum up more business right now."

  "Hey, that's great!" he said.

  "How are you doing?" I asked in a tone that was politer than I felt like being, but the threat of Teddy's boot kept me trying. "I hear you're engaged."

  Half the heads at the table snapped up and looked at Jake waiting to hear how he would navigate this minefield.

  "Yeah, can you believe it?" he said with a sheepish grin. "Cindy agreed to get hitched."

  "No, I'm not surprised at all," I said as I twirled the thick linguini noodles with my fork. "You two were always good at making things happen together."

  "Hey, what does that mean?" he said as he grabbed the tongs and put more pasta on his plate. "Pass the sauce?"

  "It just means that the two of you have always worked well together," I said, then added, "Even when you weren't together."

  "I never fucking cheated on you, Brooke, and you know it!" Jake exploded, tipping the bowl full of sauce as he shot up out of his seat and pounded on the table. "You know I never cheated!"

  "Did I say you cheated?" I shouted.

  "No, you used your lawyer skills and you implied it," he yelled. "You're always so judgmental and just below the surface where you think you'll never get caught! You've always hated Cindy, and you're still pissed that I moved on and found a way to be happy while you're still so d
amn...damn...damn miserable!"

  I sat at the other end of the table staring at him. He had lashed out and stabbed my soft underbelly with his words. He was right, of course, but I didn't want anyone to know how much his words hurt. Teddy grabbed my hand under the table and squeezed tightly. I knew he knew what was going through my mind, and I also knew that I had to keep my temper under control. I was in his space, the place where he had to live and work. I couldn't afford to let loose and soothe my wounded ego by tearing Jake to pieces. I knew that he had actually cheated on me with Cindy, and he knew it, too. But to explain why I knew meant I'd have to admit that I wasn’t good enough to keep a man and that was something I'd rather have forgotten. Dredging it up here in the firehouse wouldn’t do either of us any good.

  "Jake," I said calmly as I stared down at my plate. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry that we can't sit down and have a nice dinner. I'm sorry that you're still angry with me after all this time. And I'm sorry that you feel I used my lawyer skills to belittle you. I'm sorry."

  The guys at the other end of the table gently punched Jake's shoulder and murmured that he should accept my apology. Teddy squeezed my hand harder, and I knew he was grateful that I was making the first move to be civil. Jake looked at the table for a long time before he looked up at me and said, "I don't accept your apology, Brooke. You're a ball-busting bitch and the reality is that you're never ever going to find a man who will love you the way I once loved you. You're going to spend your life being miserable because you are a small, mean, angry woman who likes to make strong men feel weak. So, fuck you."

  And with that, Jake turned and stormed out into the truck bay. A couple of the guys followed him and I could hear them yelling at him, but the damage had been done. I looked at Teddy as the tears welled up in my eyes, then I crumpled up my napkin, threw it on the table, grabbed my purse off the counter, and ran out of the station crying. Teddy chased me, yelling my name, but I didn't want his sympathy or, worse, a lecture.