Beautiful Bridges (Bridges Brothers Book 3)

by Lia Fairchild

  “Okay, then.” I hand him back the remote and when I turn to the door, Kaylee is standing there.

  “You boys having a good time?”

  I open my mouth, but the glowing wide smile on her face has me frozen. The kid smacks my leg, seeming to already get the bro-code. I turn and give him a nod of thanks. “Yeah, I was just showing…”

  “Miles,” the kid says.

  “Miles, a tip for his game.”

  “I thought maybe it was the other way around,” she says with her lips pursed. She’s bracing her hand on the door frame, tight jeans and a black long-sleeve sweater hugging her body. Her hair is up and wispy, and all I can think about is pressing her against the wall and diving my fingers through that dark auburn mane before covering her sassy mouth with mine. Why do I take her abuse and still want her so badly? Maybe if she knew how many times I’ve thought about kissing her, she’d cut me some slack.

  “Nope, he really did,” Miles says, not catching her sarcasm. “How about we all do a race?”

  I lift my brows and watch as she steps right in without hesitation. “Sure, I have a few minutes to teach some young men a lesson.”

  “You’ve done this before?”

  “Once or twice. Koko likes video games.”

  Miles hands out the controllers and the three of us line the couch, me between the two of them. Immediately, I’m hit with the soft scent of her shampoo; almost as if she knows and is using it as a tactic against me, she sweeps her hair back over her shoulder.

  “Ready?” Miles says, excitement in his voice.

  “Ready,” Kaylee and I say together, exchanging glances.

  Our arms brush each other with every movement; I don’t know how I’m supposed to stay focused. Maybe it would be better if she won, anyway. Though, it’s more ammunition for her.

  Currently, Miles is in the lead, then Kaylee with me hot on her heels, nudging her car’s edges to find an open spot.

  “Eat my dust, Bridges,” she says, pulling away. But when she takes a corner too fast and skids off the path, I take advantage and pull ahead. “You were saying?”

  I look over and give her a quick wink, knowing it will only piss her off. Her mouth is tight, her eyes narrowed—I almost feel bad. Almost. I work to keep a distance from her, passing Miles as well and taking the lead.

  “Hey,” Miles says when Kaylee passes him, putting him in third. “You guys suck!”

  I can’t tell if he’s truly upset or just playing it up. Sometimes you have to give in and let others have their moment. Too bad for this little punk because today’s not that day. I glance to the timer on the race and see I only need to hold my position for less than thirty seconds. “Sorry, suckers.”

  “Miles!” I’m just about to reach the finish line when Suni appears in the doorway. “I told you to finish your project before video games.”

  Kaylee and I both lower our remotes and turn to her, guilty expressions on our faces. Kaylee jumps up first and I follow, stepping in front of her like I’m protecting her from evil. “Sorry, we didn’t know he had homework.”

  “Who are the suckers now?” Miles says behind us. Apparently, he doesn’t fear his mother’s wrath as much as we do, because he never stopped the race and just crossed the finish line.

  Suni gives us the head tilt and tells us everyone is ready for dinner. We sneak past her out of the room, but I can still hear the lecture she’s giving Miles as Kaylee and I laugh our way down the hall.

  “I feel bad we got him in trouble,” Kaylee says, stopping before the end of the hall, her hand gently touching my arm. Damn, if that little gesture doesn’t send my heart sailing. Somehow, I manage an appropriate response.

  “We didn’t. He did.”

  She shrugs. “I guess so. And that little turd beat us anyway.” When her gorgeous hazel eyes connect with mine, she averts them shyly.

  “Hey, Kay…” I say softly. Her gaze turns back to mine. “You’re adorable when you let your guard down.”

  We stare at each other for what feels like an eternity, me slowly closing the distance between us, when she finally speaks. “Shut up…” She pushes past me, toward the living room. “And I would have taken you if we didn’t get interrupted,” she throws over her shoulder.

  At the dinner table, Daven introduces us to the other couple as Eric, his brother, and his brother’s wife, Sabina. Eric is a partner in Daven’s clothing business. I take the empty seat next to Turner, assuming he saved it for me.

  “Sorry I was MIA,” I whisper to Turner.

  “It’s all good. Curtis and I were hanging in the kitchen.” When my smile grows wide, he says, “Keep that giddy grin off your face, bro. We were just talking. Mostly about you, so yeah, you probably should have been there to defend yourself.”

  My mouth falls open and I’m two seconds away from tipping his chair to the floor, something I’d totally do if we were at home. But as soon as I stick my elbow out, Daven catches my gaze, and I remember we are supposed to be acting like adults.

  “So, Curtis, have you told Kaylee and Justice about your idea?” Daven says, and all eyes flick between the two men.

  “Oh, uh, not yet. But—”

  “Allow me,” Daven says. He’s probably the only person who could upstage Curtis. “We’re going to put on a fashion show to raise funds for the new center, which, by the way, we still don’t have a name for.”

  I glimpse Kaylee’s reaction and can see she’s not too excited about the idea. I get it. We both wanted out of that scene and here we are, somehow, getting pulled back in.

  “A fashion show…wonderful,” Koko says. I barely noticed she was at the table before she spoke.

  “Yes,” Daven continues. “Afterall, it’s what we know and who we know, and that bodes well for everyone, including the center. My generous donation covers the renovation but the center needs ongoing funds. This is only a start.” Daven goes on to explain that he’ll handle getting some other designers on board, Curtis can handle publicity and getting some of the kids to participate, which everyone at the table seems to think is a genius idea.

  Just when I’m starting to wonder why I’m at this dinner in the first place, Daven turns to Kaylee. “Of course, we thought you’d be the perfect person to get some models on board to volunteer their time. Can you work this out with your parents?” When Kaylee hesitates, he adds, “Assuming The Sumner Group cares about helping under-privileged children.”

  “Of course, I’m happy to help,” she says with a smile I can tell is forced. It makes me wish I knew more about her. Like why she left modeling…and why I seem to bug the crap out of her. Her exit could be as simple as her love for writing. I’ve been following her articles, seeing her secure both online and print for some of the biggest fashion publications. Not to mention some features she’s done on more serious topics. If I was a bigger man, I’d tell her I’m proud of her. Respect her. Fantasize about her. Well, she probably doesn’t want to hear that last one.

  My internal monologue, along with drinking in Kaylee’s brutal beauty caused me to miss part of what Daven was saying.

  “…people love seeing veterans of the industry come back for projects. Especially for charity.” Daven seems completely overjoyed with himself and looks at me.

  I don’t want to admit I missed what they’re talking about so I nod and smile. “Whatever you guys think sounds great to me.”

  “Personally, I’d love that too,” Curtis says. “Bre Finley does tons of charity work…and she still looks stunning.”

  “Wonderful,” Daven says. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell any of you how important this is, but let’s make this our priority. I, myself, will do what I can but obviously with Fashion Week coming up, I’ll have a full plate.”

  When the topic rolls into specifics about Fashion Week, I hear Kaylee say she’s going as well, covering it for an online fashion magazine. Elise had begged me to go with her, but I felt like we needed a clean break. Now that I know Kaylee’s going, I’m having
second thoughts.

  After dinner, Kaylee approaches me before I leave, and I brace myself for another berating, though I’m not sure what I’ve done this time.

  She pauses in front of me, folding her arms. “Guess we’re stuck now.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She rolls her eyes and huffs. “I knew you weren’t listening, you immature doofus.”

  “What? What did I miss?”

  “Daven wants us to work together to find a venue for the fashion show.”

  Nothing could stop the smile spreading across my face. Oh, we’re stuck all right.

  Chapter 5

  Kaylee

  I haven’t been to the office of The Sumner Group in months. Probably because I avoid it at all costs. This conversation, however, needs to be done in person. Not to mention I have to pull this off. Yes, I care about the center and the kids. But I promised my editor an exclusive with Daven, and Daven agreed as long as I do my part.

  I made sure to check with Glenda that my mother would be in the office and came now because she said specifically Archie would not be here.

  Glenda rises to greet me when she sees me coming, pushing aside her ever-present bag of light popcorn. “Hey, girlfriend,” she says, trying to sound younger and hipper than her fifty-four years. At times, she was like a nanny to me and was genuinely sweet when my parents dumped me on her. After my dad died, I leaned on her even more. Which is why I never call her out on the cookies she always stashes at the bottom of her popcorn bag. I assume she hides them because everyone around here is always talking about dieting.

  “Hey, Glenda. So good to see you.” I hug her, my chin easily coming over the top of her five-three frame.

  “You too, hon. Gretchen’s expecting you.”

  “You told her I was coming?”

  “Had to. She was going to take off.”

  “Okay, thanks.” I nod and eye her popcorn, contemplating diving my hand to the bottom of that bag, hoping to strike gold. I need something to get me through this. It’s not as if I don’t love my mother. She’s just a lot to handle. Not to mention, now that she’s remarried, I have to deal with Archie. Though I do have some leverage for taking in Koko. She’s not so bad to room with if I’m being honest, but my mother doesn’t need to know that.

  I open the door, knowing she’ll be on the phone.

  “What do you mean she’s not right? She’s exactly what you asked for. “Look, doll, sleep on it, ’kay. I promise you, this one’s gonna be big.”

  I smile because she says that to everyone. When she looks up and catches my expression, I know she’s thinking it’s for her. She ticks her head up, then holds up a finger.

  “Sounds good. Bye, love.”

  Mom doesn’t care who she’s talking to. It could be the Queen of England and she’d give them a pet name.

  “Hey, kiddo. What’s cookin’? Glenda said you were stopping by.” She gets up and comes around her desk but doesn’t stop talking. “Everything okay with Koko? Her mom keeps calling me, asking if she’s doing her homework. As if I’m a damn head master.” She smooths her hands over my hair and acts like she’s making adjustments during a photo shoot. “Gotta keep her happy, though. Koko’s gonna be big.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure.”

  “Now that you’re here…what about that homework?”

  So, I guess I’m the head master. “Honestly, mom, I don’t know.” My voice is strained and I’m already frustrated my conversation got high-jacked before it even started.

  “Look at those gorgeous eyes of yours. Your father’s eyes.” I lower my gaze, the thought of my dad making my heart ache. “Those beauties were meant to be shown to the world…”

  Gah! I take a breath and refocus. “Mother. I’m fine with helping with Koko, letting her stay at my place for a while, but I can’t control everything she does. She is an adult, after all. And she’s the model, not me.” I back away from her touch, which feels impersonal. “Now I need a favor from you.”

  Her brows pull together and she plants a hand on her hip. “What’s wrong? You need some money, baby? Talk to Archie and—”

  “I don’t need money. Can we sit down?”

  Her eyes narrow and I know she’s thinking how long will this take. Time is money.

  “I promise to be quick.”

  Her mouth falls open and then she pulls herself into sweet, caring mom mode. “Baby doll, I’ve always got time for you. Come on.” She smooths down the white blazer that hugs her full hips and gestures toward the chairs in front of her desk.

  I outline everything about the fundraiser and what our needs are.

  Surprisingly, my mother jumps on board. “I’ve got a few newbies I can give you. It’ll be great practice for them.”

  I give her a tight smile. “That’s great, mom, but publicity is important, so I was hoping you could talk to some of the others who might bring attention to the event. Maybe Marco, Chenise, even Trista or Denise.” Though, Trista’s definitely not one of my favorites. She was queen bee when I was at the agency and looked at me like I was a peon.

  “Denise got married and became a housewife. Such a waste.” She shakes her head but then brightens. “But I’ll ask since you’re throwing a wide net.”

  “Yes, thanks, mom. And looking outside of the agency is good too.”

  She pauses and stares at me. At least she’s taking it seriously. Her hands resting in her lap, she sighs. “I’ll talk to Archie about it and we’ll see what we can do.”

  I knew this was coming. I hate that Archie weaseled his way into the business that was supposed to be for my parents. “Why? Can’t you just make an executive decision? Does Archie have to be in on everything?” When I hear the loathing in my voice, I turn my face away. I pull out my phone and check it as she replies.

  Mom tucks a piece of bleach blond hair behind her ear. “Baby, I wish you’d give Archie a chance. He’s part of our family…and he was your father’s best friend.”

  “Yeah, some friend, marrying his best friend’s wife.”

  “Your dad wouldn’t want you treating him that way, especially after he was there for you when Dad passed. Besides, I don’t know what I would have done without him.”

  Sometimes I think she only married him out of obligation. He was there for her, helped her with the agency during the toughest times, waited and stayed by her side for years. In my eyes, none of that matters—she doesn’t know who he really is. “Are you happy being married to Archie?”

  Her brows raise and she looks like she’s going on the defense, but then she softens and puts her hand on my arm. “I know it’s hard to understand… Besides Archie being my rock after your father passed…we work well together.”

  “Wow, Mom, that’s so romantic.”

  She huffs. “Look, when you get to be a certain age—”

  “You’re only fifty-three.”

  “What I’m trying to say is that not everyone is looking for the fairytale. I had my time with your father. He was the love of my life. Now I have you and this business, and yes, Archie. Don’t worry about me. I’m happy.”

  The way she says the word sounds like the fish she ordered came out fine. I nod and stand. “Sorry, but I should probably go, let you get back to work.” I look at my phone again. “I was supposed to be meeting Justice here but—”

  “Justice Bridges?” Standing, she looks at me with a sparkle in her eyes. “What’s the story there? Does he want to come back?”

  “No, mother, he doesn’t.”

  She takes two seconds to mull that over, then her eyes go wide. “Kaylee, are you two…”

  “Of course not! We’re working on the fundraiser together, and just so you know, Daven has requested that I model in the show. But I’m not coming back either. This is a one-time deal.” I give her my most determined look.

  She holds her hands up in surrender. “For God’s sakes, Kaylee, you don’t have to beat me over the head with it.”

  I was wound so tightly my heart was
racing and my words came out harsher than I meant. “Sorry. I’ve been a little stressed about this whole thing. We’re supposed to get some alumns too, and I don’t even know where to start with that. Daven’s working on it too but…”

  Mom holds up her finger and goes to her desk. She taps away on her computer for a few seconds. “I can give you some names, depending on how far back you want to go…”

  “That would be great. Thank you. And what about Sue Wheeler? Maybe she can help.” Sue is one of mom’s friends who’s an agent.

  She rests her chin in her hand. “Hey, what about Elise Perkins? I heard she and Justice were an item. She was a fairly well-known model during her time in the spotlight.”

  I cringe. “They’re not together anymore.” So I heard, thank God.

  “Oh?” She tilts her head, pinning me with a suggestive gaze.

  “No… We’re just, I don’t even know if I can call him a friend.”

  She turns back to her laptop. “Well who can blame him for how poorly you treated the boy.”

  “I did not. And he’s a man not a boy.”

  “That he is. I never did understand why you gave him such a hard time.”

  “He was the one—” I stop when I hear how whiney and defensive I sound.

  “Yes?”

  “I don’t know. We just seem to butt heads.” I fold my arms. “He just…bugged me. The way he thought all the girls fell at his feet.”

  “Well didn’t they?”

  I shrug and roll my eyes. “And how he always flirted with everyone.”

  “He flirted with you?”

  “Well, no.”

  The knowing look a mother gives you when she doesn’t have to use words is plastered on her face, and even silently it’s like nails on the chalkboard. Not fingernails either. Industrial-sized ones.

  Mom gets up from her seat and comes around to grab me by the shoulders. “Look, I’m going to do what I can to help you, but it sounds like you have some things to work out yourself. You’re too stressed for a young, beautiful woman. Half your battle was handed to you by God and genes, and so much of the time you’ve got a scowl on your face.”

  “Please, mother, are you serious right now?” That’s almost as bad as when a random guy tells you to smile more. Sure, how about I smile while I punch you in the face?