I took a little catnap while he drove and woke up refreshed. I grabbed my makeup bag and fixed my face, trying to find the balance between cares too much and doesn’t give a damn. The Vikings jersey that I was required by Lund Law to wear covered the tattoos on the back of my neck, and the long-sleeved shirt I wore hid the bandage on my right arm. So I slicked my hair into a ponytail and then tucked it under so it looked a little more finished. After I added pink lipstick, I glanced over to see Brady staring at me.
“What? Too much? Do I look like a tramp or something?”
“Not at all. You look amazing. I was just thinking I prefer how you looked first thing this morning, so sleepy and sexy in my arms. So naked.” Then his gaze dropped to my mouth. “I was also thinking that lipstick is the exact same shade as your nipples.”
“Is that right?” I unbuckled his seat belt and reached across the console to tug his jersey up.
“What are you doing?”
“Eyes on the road, Lund.” I snaked my hand under his shirt, pushing it up, bunching the extra material in my other hand. When I had the right half of his upper torso exposed, I leaned over and ran my lips across his nipple, smearing lipstick on him.
Brady groaned and I warned him not to close his eyes, because he did jerk the steering wheel hard one time.
I tugged his jersey back into place and refastened his seat belt. Then I offered him a smile. “Now our nipples are the same color. Think of me when you get undressed tonight.”
“Evil woman.”
“You started it.”
I reapplied my lipstick and then we were in the thick of Minneapolis traffic, which was surprisingly heavy for a Sunday morning. We joined the long line of cars headed to the Metrodome.
He cut across three lanes of traffic to the VIP/valet stand.
The guy manning the booth grinned when he saw Brady. “Mr. Lund! Glad you could make it today. Think that brother of yours will see any game time?”
“I sure hope so.”
“Us too.” He skirted the front end and opened my door. “Ma’am.”
Then Brady was right there, draping a lanyard over my head. “This place is confusing on the upper levels. So if for some reason we get separated, all the information about where you are and which access point you need to use is on the back of this pass. Anyone in the stadium wearing a jacket like Eddie’s can help you.”
“Okay. But I’m pretty sure I’ll be stuck to your side for the entire game.”
He draped his arm over my shoulder and kissed my temple. “I won’t complain about that.”
We walked with the crowd up several ramps and then we cut around to a bank of elevators. Brady swiped his pass and up we went. We switched elevators one more time. An older guy stood sentinel-like in front of a curved hallway as we exited.
“Mr. Brady.” He offered his hand. “It’s good to see you today.”
“You too, Bart. Although I’m sorry you got stuck with the rabble-rousers again.”
“Your family are the only ones on this side today.”
Brady frowned. “Where are the Abbotts? They don’t miss games.”
“Miss Martha is in the hospital again. So they’re all watching the game from her room.”
“That’s a shame. I might sneak into their skybox and leave a note for Chuck.”
“That’d be much appreciated, I’m sure.” He patted Brady’s hand. “You enjoy the game.”
Then Bart leaned in to me and whispered, “Don’t let ’em scare you off, miss. But I ain’t gonna lie. They’re gunning for ya.”
Awesome.
Brady had walked ahead and was waiting for me by the open door.
So I took a deep breath and stepped into the judge’s chamber.
And just as I expected, the space went silent as I got the head-to-toe perusal from the twenty-plus people in the room.
Everyone else hung back and waited as one couple approached us.
Brady’s parents didn’t look old enough to have a thirty-two-year-old son. But as I watched them, I could pick out certain features that Brady had inherited from his dad: hair color, the size and build of his body, his smile. And from his mom: her Nordic eyes, her cheekbones and her mouth.
Brady kept his hand circled around my waist, even as he bent down and kissed his mother on both cheeks.
His dad clapped him on the shoulder. “Well, son, introduce us to your young lady.”
“This is Lennox Greene. Lennox, this is my dad, Ward, and my mother, Selka.”
I offered my hand. “I’m happy to meet you in person, Mr. Lund. I do see you storming the halls at LI occasionally.”
His eyes narrowed. “You work for us?”
“Yes, sir. I’m in the office support department.”
“IT?”
“No, I’m a floater.”
“I am not familiar with this ‘floating’ term,” his mother said.
“Like the secretarial pools back in the day, Mom. Lennox fills in in any department where she’s needed. So she has a wide range of skills and responsibilities.”
I shot Brady a look. I didn’t need him bragging like I was something special to his supermodel mom.
Selka took my hand. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Lennon.”
“Lennox,” I corrected.
“Ah. Right. Sorry.”
Like hell you are.
“So you and my son met when you showed him your . . . office skills?”
Brady stiffened beside me. Then he laughed. “No, actually we met at the LCCO outreach program. Lennox’s roommate heads up the county’s program. I’d run into Lennox a few times before that at LI, but we both just happened to volunteer on that day.”
Selka’s eyes burned into me. “You have roommate?”
Her accent sounded part Scandinavian, part Russian. “Yes. We share a house.”
“I had roommate once. Terrible person. She wore all my clothes.”
“Fortunately, I don’t have that problem with Kiley.”
“Have you been married before?”
“No.”
“Do you have children?”
“Mom,” Brady said with exasperation. “Knock it off.”
Selka patted Brady’s cheek and said something in Swedish.
“No, Mrs. Lund, I don’t have any children.”
“You’re lovely. You must be part Swede.” She cocked her head. “My son is handsome, yes?”
“Jesus.” Brady looked at his father for help.
But Ward Lund just held up his hands in surrender.
“Yes, Brady is very handsome. And he’s smart. He can be very funny.” I paused. “What surprised me most about him, though, was his kindness. He was great with the teenagers in the program the morning he volunteered. That’s why I agreed to go out with him, despite our potential conflict of interest with the CFO dating a lower-level clerical employee.”
I felt Selka studying me as Ward said, “We don’t have rules about interpersonal relationships at LI. In fact, several of our employees met there and have been married for years.”
“And just as many were divorced,” Selka added.
Looked like I was scoring points with Mama Bear. Not.
“I’m happy you’re here,” Ward said. “I’m sure you at least know of the other members of the family, so we’ll let you get on with the introductions, Brady.”
Selka said nothing.
I didn’t ask Brady’s take on how I’d done with his mother once they’d walked away. He had no other experiences to judge it by. And men were often clueless about women stuff anyway.
Brady introduced me to his uncle Monte, who was president of the board of directors, and his wife, Priscilla. Next we moved on to his uncle Archer, CEO of LI. He was an imposing man and my hand shook as if I was meeting a rock star. Archer’s wife, Edie, thought I was cute and asked me a bunch of questions about my position at LI, which calmed me a little because she knew Lola. She also knew Anita, and the way her nose wrinkled told me she didn’t care for her either.
Annika was the biggest surprise. She hugged me. “Lennox! Look at you, dating my brother. Everyone thinks he’s the big bad wolf so I’m glad to see someone got past his sharp teeth.”
“Thanks for that analogy, sis.”
“Did Lennox tell you I tried to hire her?”
I closed my eyes and willed her to stop talking.
“No, she forgot to mention it.”
“Well, when May had her baby, Lennox was assigned to my department. She was so efficient and got us all caught up on a backlog of filing and she even cross-referenced all the information. It was amazing. So when May came back and saw all that Lennox had done, she knew she’d been busted for doing the absolute minimum and she requested a departmental change from Personnel as well as a job-share position to part-time.”
Yes, I’d done my job so well that I’d cost a new mother her job. I still felt guilty about that.
“But when I tried to get Lennox to stay on as May’s replacement, she declined. She said she was still too new to the company and wanted to remain in her current position for at least a year.” Annika punched me in the arm—right on my recently re-inked tattoo. “Crazy loyal, huh?”
“What are you? A thirteen-year-old boy? Stop smacking my girlfriend, Nika.”
“Shit. Sorry.” Then she proceeded to rub really hard on the spot she’d just hit. “I’m just glad Brady finally showed he has good taste in women.”
“Uh . . . thanks?”
Brady steered me away. Then he got right in my face. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. It just stings.”
“Annika tends to forget sometimes that she’s a girl. Blame it on three brothers and three older boy cousins.”
I set my hand on his chest.
He took my other hand and kissed the inside of my wrist.
“Nice little PDA you’ve got going on, cuz.”
“Fuck off, Nolan.”
“Such language.” He laughed. “And who is this lovely lady who is far too beautiful for the likes of you?”
Nolan Lund was as outrageously good looking as he was charming, which was why we’d nicknamed him “The Prince.”
I offered my hand. “I’m Lennox Greene, Mr. Lund.” I didn’t remind him we’d met before. Being overlooked as part of the furniture was part of the gig as a temp worker.
He scrutinized me. “You look familiar.”
“I work at LI.” Maybe he’d seen me dancing on the bar—not that I’d offer up the prompt.
“I take it you’re the one who accompanied Brady to Flurry last weekend?”
“Yes.”
“And? How did you like it?”
Brady and I exchanged a look and my cheeks flushed as I remembered the sexy, sensual way he had moved against me on the dance floor. “It was fun.”
When I looked up, Nolan had returned to his date—a skeletal redhead with a bored expression and Botoxed lips.
“Looks like you saved the best for last, bro.” A gorgeous blond man, with the physique and beard of a lumberjack, stepped into my personal space. “I’m Walker. The black sheep of the family.”
“Black sheep. Yeah, right,” Brady scoffed.
“I’m Lennox.” My face was starting to hurt from smiling so much. “Brady’s told me a little about you, so it’s nice to finally meet you.”
“Well, sweetheart, you were a complete surprise to me. I had no idea Brady was dating someone.” Walker’s eyes, a frostier blue than Brady’s, lit up. He sent Brady a You dog look. “That’s where he saw you. Dancing on the bar.”
“No, I’d met Lennox before that. At work,” he emphasized.
“Whatever. I’m glad to see you here with him. Can I get you something to drink?”
“We were making our way to the bar, so I’ll take care of her.”
Walker grinned. “I’ll just bet you will.”
Lord have mercy, he has the biggest dimples I’ve ever seen.
“Stop sighing over my damn brother,” Brady muttered.
“And I’m not even the hot one,” Walker said, keeping that dimpled grin in place.
“I know. I’ve already got the hot one.” I squeezed Brady’s hand.
Brady murmured, “That comment would so get you laid if we were—”
“Kickoff in three minutes,” Ward announced.
“Have a seat over there.” Brady pointed to a corner where none of his family sat. “What would you like to drink?”
“Just a Coke.”
“Really? Okay.” He paused. “What about food?”
“I’m good for now.”
I felt the watchful eyes as I slid onto a super comfy lounge chair.
I’d never been much of a football fan, but I knew enough about it to keep my mouth shut and listen to those who did know what every play meant.
And this crowd was serious about football—as if the dozen LUND jerseys weren’t hint enough.
When Brady didn’t sit next to me, I turned to see him deep in conversation with his dad. By the way they were intently watching the field, I could tell they were discussing the game.
I took a second to check my phone since I hadn’t bothered up in the North Woods. A missed call from Maxie. A text from Kiley to let me know she’d be back earlier tonight than she’d planned.
“Bored already?” Brady whispered in my ear.
“No. I thought maybe you’d ditched me.”
“I just got the lowdown from my dad on why Ford isn’t playing. That means Jensen will definitely get field time.”
Brady spoke of these guys as if they were friends. I supposed in a way they were, since they were his brother’s friends.
“It’s a slim crowd here today.”
“Is this all of your family?”
“No, my cousin Jaxson is a hockey player with the Chicago Blackhawks, so it’s a travel day for him. My cousin Ash isn’t here yet because he’s helping his little sister Dallas. She won’t be here since apparently she fell off the pyramid and screwed up her knee yesterday.”
“Your cousin was in Egypt?”
He laughed. “No. She’s a U of M cheerleader. Their pyramid crashed during the halftime show and she was on the top.”
“Oh. Now I feel stupid about that too.”
He grabbed my chin and gently forced me to look at him. “Don’t ever say that.” He kissed me hard. “Now watch the game.”
I tried to focus. But my body seemed hyperaware of every movement Brady made. Of every deep grumble of disapproval. Of the ease with which football terms flew from his mouth.
Tight End.
Hard-line offense.
First down.
Roughing the passer.
Off sides.
Half the distance to the goal.
Repeat third down.
And my personal favorite: got stuffed.
I moved around during halftime. I knew Brady was itching to discuss the finer points of the first half with his family, so I wandered out of the skybox. Even Bart had bailed. I found an alcove between the two skyboxes where I could look down onto the field. The flexible dome roof made it windy at the top of this side, but I welcomed the air and breathed deeply for the first time in over an hour.
The third quarter started and I knew I should get back inside, but I needed a few more minutes of solitude. I kept an eye on the field and saw number 88 leap into the air to catch a pass. The Lund family broke out into a collective cheer so loud I bet Jensen had heard it. On the next down, once again Jensen caught the ball and he made it a few yards before he was tackled.
The next play had Jensen “The Rocket” Lund living up to his name. The quarterback was able to buy them enough time for Jensen to get way downfield at the ten-yard line. The pass the quarterback threw? A perfect spiral. Jensen caught it, hunkered down and didn’t stop until he’d passed the goal line.
The stadium went nuts.
I felt that rush of adrenaline from sixty thousand rabid fans roll over me in a wave. Everything was so loud I couldn’t hear
how hard the Lunds were celebrating right next to me. I remained where I was, reluctant to interrupt their family celebration. Hearing them talk, I could tell this was the moment they’d been waiting for all season.
The kick was good and the Vikings were up by fourteen over Detroit.
Brady didn’t track me down until there were only four minutes left of the third quarter. He was so solid and so warm when he moved in behind me and he was one of the few men I’d ever been with who made me feel petite. And when he put his arms around me I felt protected. I closed my eyes and savored the feeling.
“Did it get to be a little much in there for you?”
Sitting so close to you, having you touching me but not really touching me . . . hearing the deep rumble of your voice . . . it all mixed together to create a very potent cocktail I couldn’t sample.
“I needed some air.”
He kissed the top of my head. “I hate to admit I didn’t see when you left.”
“No worries. I was out here when Jensen made his big play. Talk about exciting.”
“It’s what we’ve been waiting for, for two years since Jensen signed on with the team. He had one game-making play in the regular season his rookie year. But the team hasn’t utilized him like they should. Jensen has wanted to play for the Vikings his entire life. But he knew if he didn’t get time on the field this year he’d become a free-agent.”
“Brady.”
“Yeah, baby?” he murmured behind my ear.
“Can I tell you something?”
“Anything.”
“It is a huge turn-on to hear you talking football. The inflections in your voice, the passion, even those very ripe curses—it’s like an auditory aphrodisiac for me.”
“Lennox, I just went from freezing my balls off to completely hard in like five seconds.”
I angled my head to nuzzle him. I let the tip of my tongue tickle the beard scruff beneath his chin. “You were getting to be too much for me, Brady. That’s why I had to leave.”
“And what do you think we should do about that?” He circled my wrists with his fingers and lifted my arms, placing my palms flat on the concrete walls on either side of me. Then he followed the undersides of my arms down to my chest. He squeezed and teased, his breath coming hot and fast in my ear. “Should I give you a personal play-by-play?”
“Of the football game?” I answered breathlessly.
What You Need (Need You #1) Page 18