Beautiful Bridges
Bridges Brothers, Book 3
By Lia Fairchild
All rights reserved.
Copyright 2020 © [Lia Fairchild]
Cover Design: Amy Queau
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author /publisher.
ISBN-13: 978-0-9864153-8-8 (ebook)
ISBN- 979-8-6444391-1-9 (print)
BOOKS BY LIA FAIRCHILD
Building Bridges (Bridges Brothers, Book 1)
Broken Bridges (Bridges Brothers, Book 2)
Beautiful Bridges (Bridges Brothers, Book 3)
Compulsive (Liar Duet, Book 1)
Liar (Liar Duet, Book 2)
In Search of Lucy
Circle in the Sand
Vigil-Annie
Emma vs. the Tech Guy
Special Delivery
Home for Christmas
High Maintenance
Contents
Beautiful Bridges
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Epilogue
Beautiful Bridges
Justice was always the screw up of the Bridges Brothers, and after hitting rock bottom, he is finally ready to turn his life around. Besides building a new business, he wants a meaningful relationship with a woman…for once. The problem is the beautiful brunette who fills his dreams and tortures his reality seems to hate his guts.
After leaving modeling behind, Kaylee wants to be taken seriously as a writer, she yearns for meaning in her life. When she is thrown together on a charity fundraiser with the tall, golden-haired Adonis who grates her last nerve, she discovers there’s more to Justice than meets the eye.
Finding a crack in Kaylee’s armor, Justice goes full throttle to win her over. He wants to be the man Kaylee deserves. Kaylee feels the pull too, but getting close to Justice means revealing a secret from her past she doesn't want to face.
Chapter 1
Justice
Even with the shot of Jack I had moments before we left the limo, my stomach still turns over as Elise and I enter the party. There was a time this was my scene—or maybe I was just too hammered to realize it never was. Regardless, now I feel like a screw in a nail factory.
The party is in full-swing—Elise has to be later than those fashionably late whenever we attend events. I’ve come to realize that has less to do with her and more to do with whom she has on her arm—tonight, that’s me.
I scan the room for the one person who can give me some sense of balance tonight. I was able to score Turner an invite to this ridiculous fortieth birthday party for one of Elise’s entitled friends. Most of these women are more than happy to have another young stud to chase after, even if Turner has no interest in them. Right now, all I see are scores of people dressed to the nines, some of them in throwback, turn-of-the-century formalwear—men in cutaways and tailcoats, women in Victorian style dresses. Fashion people love this shit. Though, this party is a mix: models, business people, some B-lister celebs.
“Baby, get me some wine, please?” She curls her hand under my chin and strokes my cheek. “If I’m going to tell Steph she doesn’t look a day past thirty, I need to sell it.”
On autopilot, I take her hand from my cheek, the large aquamarine diamond on her finger an obstacle to maneuver around, and kiss her palm. “Of course.” I trail away to the bar, noting only weeks ago I would have pulled her in by the waist and told her, “You’re the one who doesn’t look a day over thirty.” It wouldn’t be far from the truth, but my motivation has waned as of late, and this party is a mere formality to both of us.
I go to the bar and order a glass of Pinot for her, a beer for me, then stall there, taking in the party and looking for Turner. Stephanie’s husband selected this venue, the historic Houdini Estate—thus the dress theme—in West Hollywood, because Stephanie is obsessed with the magician and claims she’s a distant relative. The place is phenomenal, with a breathtaking Victorian vibe and just enough eeriness to make it interesting.
“You look like a unicorn ate a rainbow and then threw up all over your jacket.”
I turn to my right, already knowing who the snarky voice belongs to. “Thank you, Kaylee. I’ll take that as a compliment.” I won’t dare tell her that Elise practically begged me to wear this Tom Ford satin printed jacket that does indeed look like unicorn vomit. She doesn’t do status quo, so we declined to participate in the theme.
Kaylee didn’t dress the part either, but I can’t find a single thing wrong with her if I tried.
She takes my silence as in invite to continue. “I see you still haven’t learned to dress yourself.”
She rests an elbow on the bar, still gorgeous enough to walk the runway or be featured in any spread. Her attention is drawn to the bartender, who asks her what she’d like, so I take the moment to look my fill. She carries her five nine frame elegantly, and since I’m six one, she almost meets my eye with her heels on. But it’s the dress I can’t take my eyes off. This black silky number comes from around her neck and crisscrosses over her full breasts. If she catches my gaze drop, I’m a dead man. The dress is firm around her hips and thighs, short enough to highlight those long shapely limbs I’ve seen not only on the catwalk but backstage, half naked during a wardrobe change.
I whip my gaze back to hers when she turns to me, those hazel green irises almost making me speechless. “What about that rag you’re wearing?” I say, trying to act unaffected when she sweeps her dark auburn waves over her smooth shoulder. “Looks like you took your grammy’s shawl and wrapped it around you like a bandage.”
She curls her lip at me and hell if it doesn’t set a flame to burn through my system. I stand there with my mouth parted as she picks up her drink and turns, throwing “have fun with your sugar momma” over her shoulder. Okay, that last one stung. I don’t know how or when I became public enemy number one to her but at some point, I stopped taking it and started giving it right back to her. Kaylee doesn’t need to know that most of the time, her spark turns me on, and I’m seconds away from shutting that mouth of hers with my lips. I suppose the thought of a red hand print across my cheek is one deterrent.
I grab our drinks and take off to find Elise. There’s a small bundle of people crowded in a far corner making noise, so I head that way. Elise is never far from the social melee. But I stop short when Turner appears in front of me. “You lost, cabana boy? They need some towels out by the pool.”
“Shut it.”
“Whoa, what’s up your ass?” Turner says, though his words don’t match his tone or his expression as he opens one side of his black dinner jacket and then does a spin like a pop star. “Do I fit in with these socialite clowns or what?”
“Yeah, yeah, you look great. You wanna hang
at the bar while I give this to Elise?” I hold up her wine.
He pulls his head back like he’s offended. “Don’t make me your dirty little secret, Bridges. You begged me to come tonight.”
“Come on. It’s not like that and you know it.”
“Then what’s your problem?”
“My problem is…I don’t know what my problem is. I’m in a shitty mood. I didn’t want to come to this party”—I gesture with my glass-filled hands around the room—”just listen to that boyband eighties crap they’re playing. And…Kaylee has already laid into me.”
He sighs dramatically. “So that’s it. For once a woman doesn’t fall at your feet, Adonis, and you what…take your ball and go home crying?”
“No.” I take a drink of beer and rein it in like I know I should.
“When are you guys going to fuck already and get it over with?”
“She wouldn’t touch me with a ten-foot pole.”
A dirty grin takes over his face, and he’s about to open his mouth when I say, “Don’t!”
“Fine.” He smiles. “But I like the music.” He does a few moves that aren’t half bad, and I can’t help but smile. This is why he’s here. We’ve been best friends since the eighth grade, both a couple of jackasses who found we were pretty damn good at football. Somehow, as I became serious and unsuccessful, Turner kept his boyish charm and every door he knocked on opened. Okay, I sound bitter. And “unsuccessful” is totally inaccurate. I’m not where I want to be, which makes me feel unsuccessful.
“Meet at the bar in ten,” I say, raising my beer to him.
As I’m walking away, I hear him say, “And tell Elise you guys are taking me home in the limo. I ubered here.”
I come up behind Elise and hand her the glass of wine. She turns her head and kisses my cheek as thanks. I see now the excitement of the crowd is a magician performing sleight of hand tricks. The birthday girl, Stephanie, is in the midst of a card trick and has just signed her name on one and slid it into the deck. I’ve seen the trick enough times that I pass my gaze around the crowd instead.
I laugh to myself when I see Curtis, one of my clients and a close friend. We met years ago at The Sumner Group, where he is the definition of tall, dark, and handsome—and currently is their most sought after and well-known model. But he was thinner back then and wanted to bulk up, get into fitness modeling. I helped him as a favor, and he eventually became one of my first clients as a personal trainer. I have my arm wrapped around the waist of another client, and her palm just landed on my package.
Curtis head-gestures to the side as if he wants me to make my way over there. I whisper in Elise’s ear to let her know.
Curtis greets me with his usual giant smile, handshake, and a half-hug in which he pummels my back with his meaty paw.
“You look great,” I say, recovering my breath.
“I know.” He smooths down the lapels of his white vintage coat. “You too. That jacket is smooth, man.”
“Thanks. Kaylee just took me down a peg over it.” I flick some loose hair off my forehead before slipping the hand into my pocket.
“That spitfire here?” He glances around, knowing the last thing I need is her joining our conversation. “I actually like her style. Pretty boy, you could use getting knocked down.”
“Whoa, if that ain’t the pot calling the kettle black.”
“Did you just say ‘black’ to me?” Curtis tilts his head and gives me the evil eye. I almost fall for it, but I know him too well. “I’m just messin’ with you, man.” He chuckles. “So what did you do to piss off our girl?”
“First of all, she’s not our anything.” I shrug and take a swallow of my beer. “Maybe she’s jealous because Gretchen loved me so much. I was one of her favorites.”
“You think she’s jealous of her own mama?”
“I don’t know, maybe. I mean, the woman practically begged me not to leave the agency.”
“Yeah she still talks about you. Says she’ll take you back in a heartbeat, so if you need some cash…”
That’s exactly what I need right now, but I can’t go back into that world. I’m not making excuses for how my life got to where it is now; I take full responsibility and I’m willing to work hard to make it back. But that whole scene…it’s where all my issues started. “No, that’s not my scene anymore.”
“Really?” he says, running a hand over his bronze bald head, “because it looks like you’re still right in the middle of this scene. What are you doing here, then?”
“I’m with Elise.”
“Who’s a former model… Guess you’re not avoiding this scene too well. Thought you guys were calling it quits, though?”
“We are but she didn’t want to come alone tonight, and I didn’t mind. You know me, man. I’m not the best at change.”
“So you made the real sacrifice for her, huh? Didn’t have anything to do with the fact that you knew Kaylee was going to be here?”
Whoops and hollers from the bar take our attention, and we both look that way. “Shit,” I say on a chuckle.
“Whoever that is, he’s about to get devoured by the cougar patrol.”
“I seriously doubt it. That’s Turner.”
Curtis puts a hand on my shoulder, the pressure telling me to look at him. “That’s your buddy Turner? Saw you talking to him. He’s got moves too. Is he…open?” Curtis raises a brow.
“For what—business?” I shoot him a crooked grin to make him suffer.
“Come on. You know what I mean. You think he’d be interested in making a little ebony and ivory music with me?”
“Your giant ego is the only thing that would get in the way.”
“Can you blame me for not wanting to waste all this God-given beauty? I need to share it with the world. What did Vogue call me? Oh that’s right”—he does some dazzling footwork—”the model to watch.”
I let my chin fall and give him my most serious look. “So what you’re saying is you’d like me to introduce you to my very good friend Turner, who’s like a brother to me, and had a tough time finding himself and doesn’t need anyone playing with him? Is that what you’re saying to me right now, Curtis?”
He clears his throat and stands up straighter, clasping his hands in front of him. “Um, yes, sir. I would very much like an introduction.”
Before I can answer, Kaylee walks by and stops short when she sees Curtis. “Just the man I’ve been looking for.”
“Kaylee, you look especially gorgeous tonight,” he says.
She glances quickly to me. “Thank you, Curtis.” But the way she says it, it’s like I somehow needed to be reminded of that fact. Then she executes a slow nod. “You look handsome as well.”
Well, aren’t we all so polite and generous? Except for me, of course. I’m the schmuck who looks hideous and didn’t compliment her. At one point a few years back, the three of us were all with The Sumner Group, the modeling agency owned by Kaylee’s parents. Kaylee left just before I did, but I never really knew why. She’s stunning.
“So what can I do for you, baby?”
Curtis is probably the only one who can get away with calling Kaylee “baby.” Not that she’s a man hater—except for me—but she’s very independent and thoughtful, watching out for women in this industry, making sure they don’t get taken advantage of.
“Well, I’m doing an article on Daven Sparrow and the youth center he’s funding, and he tells me the whole thing was your idea.”
He nods, holding back a smile. “That would be true.”
“That’s amazing, Curtis. I’d love to interview you for the piece. Learn more about your inspiration, your background.”
“I’d be honored.”
“Plus the publicity doesn’t hurt, right, Curtis?” I add.
He raises his brows. “For shame, Justice. I’d never use the underprivileged to promote my career.”
Kaylee shoots me a dirty look, even though we both know Curtis would definitely do that.
“Can I drop you a message later and we’ll set up a time to get together?”
“Of course. And copy in my man Justice, here.” He slaps at my chest with the back of his hand. “I mean, if you want the complete story that is?”
I shoot him wide eyes and have to close my mouth before Kaylee sees. What the hell is he doing?
Kaylee looks at me and scoffs. “Him? What does he have to do with this?”
“A lot, really.” When Kaylee turns to me, Curtis gives me squinty eyes. “First, he helped me come up with the idea. Secondly…”
“I wouldn’t say I helped you—”
“Secondly, Justice is going to volunteer his services at the new center. You know, help the kids learn fitness, weight training.”
She eyes me and I can see the wheels turning. Plus, I’m sure she doesn’t want to believe this fairytale about the man who sets her teeth on edge. It’s not complete bullshit, though. He did talk to me about the idea, we brainstormed, and I basically said I thought he should go for it. And of course if he’d asked me, I would have agreed to volunteer. In fact, I even went with him to the old one before it closed down. So what the hell? “Why are you looking at me like that? I do have some humanity, you know?”
She turns her gaze from me without a word and addresses Curtis. “Fine. Whatever. It’s a great story. Enjoy the party.” She barely gives me a glance as she walks away.
“See you then, Kay,” I call with a smile.
Chapter 2
Justice
Elise is hammered and has an arm around me as the three of us make our way out to where the limo is supposed to pick us up. Once we get inside, she reaches for the champagne bottle, and Turner eyes me. I snatch it up before she can get to it, and she gives me the pouty face.
She and I sit across from Turner, and Elise crumples into my side, curling up on me like we’re in bed. If it were anyone else but Turner, I’d be embarrassed. Not that I have any right to be. It wasn’t that long ago, I would have been in the same shape as Elise. I wouldn’t say I had a serious problem, but I didn’t take anything seriously—and that was a problem. Everything was a party to me. Problem is, at some point the money runs out, you sober up, and then you look around to see who’s still next to you. That would be Turner. And my family, of course. But they never had too high expectations for me, though they wouldn’t admit that. Turner was going through his own shit then too, so I’m grateful for him sticking by me.
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