“Very funny.”
I move my attention to my purse as if I’m looking for something. A moment later, I gaze up looking for Logan. Lou busies herself organizing the table condiments and wiping the crumbs onto the floor.
Logan sits in the chairs up front, probably waiting for a takeout order, looking down at his phone. As if he senses me watching, he glances up and catches me looking. I don't pull the fake I wasn't looking routine and quickly look away, because everyone knows that's the universal sign for I was staring at you. Instead I give him a small grin, which he returns like we’ve bartered some valuable commodity. I give my head a tiny shake when I feel my cheeks warming again, which is odd for me. Neither of us seems to want to be the one to turn away so we just keep staring like it’s the most natural thing in the world. I examine his posture, his movements, the way he scrubs a hand over his short beard.
“I can only pretend to be busy for so long…”
“What?” I say, without breaking eye contact with Logan. But then her words register, and I blink before slowly turning my head her way. “Sorry, Lou.”
“I don’t mind, really. I’m just looking at your eyes sparkle and wondering what the story is.”
“Story?” I take a peek back to the chairs and he’s gone. I slump back in my seat and then mentally shake it off before continuing. “The story is…strange.” I proceed to explain what happened at the hospital and how we’d gone to school together. Though it was the most Lou’s ever not interrupted while I was talking, I couldn’t bring myself to tell her everything.
“That’s not so strange.”
“How do you figure?”
“Every great love story starts with a…well, story.”
I throw my head back and laugh. “That’s quite a leap, Lou. ‘Great love story’?”
“Well you know I’m a hopeless romantic.”
I open my mouth, hoping an argument will stop her in her tracks, but nothing comes out.
“Don’t try to deny it. I can see in your eyes there's something there.”
“Something being the key word. I don’t know, maybe I just feel sorry for him…and his family.”
“Well then maybe it was fate that brought you two together. Another thing in every great love story.”
I roll my eyes but can’t help wonder if there’s some truth to this theory. The fate part, at least. “I think you’ve been reading too many romance novels.”
“Maybe so, dear, but I’ve been around long enough to know when I see two people who are drawn to each other. And you could use some romance in your life.”
“My life is fine.”
“Fine is existing…boring, lonely, pointless—”
“Okay.” I hold up my hands in surrender.
“So, you’re going to consider it?”
Our pizza arrives at the table, saving me from having to reply. But as I pull a piece onto a plate and hand it to Lou, she gives me a devilish smile. “What?”
She raises her brows. “I forgot the biggest selling point of all.”
“What do you mean?”
“Something every great romance has.”
“What?”
“Hot sex, of course.”
Chapter 5
Logan
I walk in the front door with two extra-large pizzas and enough wings for a football team. I realized at the last minute if I didn't have food here, I was less likely to get everyone in the same room at the same time. If there is one thing that seems to bring the Bridges together it is food—at least it used to.
When I pulled in, I saw Mason's car in the driveway—a miracle in and of itself. I assumed he'd walk in late with some kind of excuse about the business, which has become his wife, mistress, and best friend. It's not that I don't look up to my big brother and respect the hell out of him, but we are for sure two very different people considering we have the same mother and father. I actually feel closest to Ryder, even though we were apart for all those years. I never think twice about having different mothers.
I head to the kitchen where I drop off the food, turn on the oven to keep the pizza warm, and check the fridge for drinks—something I hadn't thought about while I was out. Seeing Mollie at Pepitos was like getting kicked in the head. Now all I can seem to think about is her, and all I want to do is find a way to see her again. That awkward smile she flashed when she turned around in line…hot damn, that was sexy as hell. I also caught a glimpse of that hint of a dimple on her cheek. I wanted to dip her back in one of those sailor kisses. And after that stare down across the room while she sat at the booth… I’m not above having an “accident” that sends me to the emergency room. Okay, now is not the time for sponge-bath fantasies.
I shake it off and realize I’m just staring into the fridge. There's enough sodas here, but as I suspected, Frank has not replenished the beer he has no problem drinking like it’s his own personal stash. I scoot some things around—including some foil-wrapped mysteries I’m not about to deal with right now and a doll-sized plastic baby bottle—and notice one wheat beer hiding in the back corner. Hell, if anyone deserves the last one it’s me. So, I grab it, pop the top off, and take a swig with the refrigerator still open.
I hear the click of heels on the kitchen tile behind me. Since Mollie was the only woman to come around this place for months, I know it must be the shiny dress shoes of my brother Mason. I turn to find him completely decked out in a dark gray designer suit with a black shirt and thin tie, of course making me look like farmer Fred in my ripped jeans, white T-shirt, and ball cap.
“What’s up, bro? Got a hot date?” As far as I know he hasn’t dated in over a year.
He ignores the comment. The responsible, professional one of us four has no time for my jokes, apparently. “I just had a meeting with The Meyers Group. They’re looking to do some cabins in Solvang. We put a bid in. Russell Meyers worked with Dad before, so I think we have a good shot.”
“That’s great.” I raise my beer in a mock toast and take another drink while I try to think of something more enthusiastic to say. I’d prefer to avoid the lecture from Mason about coming back to the family business. “Dad should be happy about that,” is all I can think of.
He nods, but at the mention of my dad, we exchange our unspoken concern over how he’s been coping with Nina’s death. In his defense, how many men could survive being a widower twice without falling apart? I’m leaving this one for Mason to handle. He’s the eldest, and I’ve got my hands full playing house.
Mason steps up into my space and reaches up to the cabinet above the fridge. He’s got a couple of inches on me at just over six foot, but I’ve packed on enough muscle that the height is no longer a factor.
“Gramps’s whiskey?” I say.
He pulls the bottle of copper-colored liquid down and places it on the counter. “Why not. I paid for it.”
I exaggerate a sigh. “Put your ego back in your pants, man.”
“You should come by the office some time. We’ll talk options. We keep expanding, I could use you on the inside.”
Mason has a degree in business and hasn’t touched a tool in more than ten years, even though Dad had us all working summers and breaks, hoping to groom us so we'd all follow in his footsteps. I actually loved the building side of things. So, it pisses me off Mason’s trying to sideline me into an office job. “You know that’s not me, bro. I’m hands-on. But right now, the kids need me here.”
He stares at me like he wants to say something but doesn’t. He grabs two shot glasses from the cupboard next to the sink and then raises his brows at me.
“Naw, I’m good.”
He shrugs and pours out one, but before he sets the bottle down, I say, “Yeah, hit me up.”
We throw them back and Mason goes for a second.
I tap out a light punch on his arm. “Dude.”
He gives me a sidelong glance. “You want me to sit through your family meeting, Mom?”
“You’re being a dick.” I walk aw
ay but as I leave, I throw over my shoulder, “It’s about Belle…all the kids, really.”
He might be running the show at the company, but I’m the one who moved back in to keep this family from falling apart. No way in hell he would have done that.
Twenty minutes later, I’ve got the kids set up with a movie, and the rest of us all gathered in the living room—except Frank. His ass cheeks almost fused to the sofa cushions and the one time I need him here, he’s gone.
No sooner do I set down those two boxes of pizza than a sea of dirty, harry knuckles crack against each other, reaching to grab up the pieces. I let them do their thing and wait for the storm to calm before I consider saying anything. The football game plays in the background, and it almost feels like old times. Another reason I dread dropping this bomb. But the longer I watch this scene, the more I know things will only get worse if we don’t do something. I don’t know if our family is cursed, but if I were a woman and walked into this place, you couldn’t get me out of here fast enough.
And then I think of Mollie. I want to get close to her. At least be friends, but my body’s reaction to her tells me I want more. When she was staring at me today… And she didn’t even try to hide it, which really got my juices flowing. I like that she’s a feisty little nurse, but at the same time, I catch her getting flustered. Still, she doesn’t seem to like me that much, and when she gets to know me, know what happened to me…not sure I’d want to be saddled with that either. Those thoughts deflate me, piss me right off, but that’s not what’s important right now.
A loud cackle from my younger brothers pulls me from my reflection. They’re standing inches from the TV fist-pumping the air because of the last play in the game. Ryder jumps onto the coffee table and yells, “Hells, yeah,” and then knocks the plate from Justice’s hand, his pizza flopping onto the carpet.
“Rebel Ryder, get your ass off there,” Gramps yells. He’s wearing a bandana and leather jacket, which means he’s been out riding his motorcycle. Nina had told him many months ago she didn’t think it was safe for him any longer with his glaucoma. So much for that.
Justice turns with fire in his eyes. “You’re dead.”
Ryder leaps off the coffee table and bolts with Justice hot on his heels. They fly past Mason who’s leaning against the wall texting as if nothing is happening around him.
“What the hell?” I mutter under my breath. “Dad.” It comes out like the teenage version of myself. When he doesn’t hear me, I step over to where he and Gramps are standing. “C’mon, Dad, really?”
“What do you want from me, Son?”
I don’t say what I want to, or even what I should. “I’ll be right back. Just do me a favor and get this under control before I return.”
I snake a couple of slices before they are all gone, toss them onto a plate, and take them back to Colton and Belle who are watching Frozen. When I return, there are only two pieces left and I grab them before the chain gang notices.
Finally, I clear my throat and say, “Hey, guys, we need to talk.” Of course, I’m ignored. “This is important!” Not even a glance my way, and I push back what should be a blow to my ego, considering I used to be able to snap my fingers and command a group ten times this size. Life. It sure as hell ain’t no box of chocolates in this story.
As Ryder and Justice stumble back into the room mid-argument, an ear-piercing whistle blares over the group, and all eyes turn to Gramps. He pulls the fingers from his lips. “Now shut your damn traps and listen to the boy!”
I choose to focus on how bad-ass my gramps is instead of on the fact he had to bail me out. Tossing the plate with my untouched food onto the coffee table, I say, “I know none of you want to be here, but this is about Belle, about our family, and it’s important so listen up. Starting right now, we are going to start acting like a family and not a damn circus.” I quickly recount what happened in the hospital and when I finish, Justice chimes in. “That hot nurse that was here? She’s cool, she wouldn’t do anything.”
“That’s not really the point, you little pervert,” Gramps says.
“He’s right,” I say. “She has an obligation and whether or not she makes that call doesn’t matter now. We need some things to change around here, not just for Belle but for Colton. For our whole family.”
“Like what?” Ryder says while sucking the meat off a chicken wing. “I mean what are we supposed to do? If Mom were here…” He throws the bone onto his plate, shoves himself onto the couch, and wipes at the corners of his eyes with his sleeve.
“Lots of things. But we all have to pitch in, and the most important thing is taking care of the little ones.”
Justice smacks the back of Ryder’s head. “That means you, runt.”
“No, it doesn’t!”
“Colton and Belle are your cousins and starting now, you’re going to treat them like your brother and sister, and we’re all going to take care of them…and each other. Tonight, I’m texting each of you a schedule with what you need to do and when.”
“Hey, where’s Uncle Frank?” Justice says, glancing around as if he just noticed. “Shouldn’t he be the one doing this? I have school and football and I don’t have time for babysitting.” He stands and looks over at our dad. “Is this for real or what?”
Dad folds his arms and gives him the look I haven’t seen since I left home. “Sit your ass down and do as you’re told.”
Justice turns back to me, salutes with the tiniest bit of middle finger jutting forward, and sits back down.
I clench my jaw and ignore him because this feels like progress.
I look over at Gramps and he nods his approval.
We talk about how to get started, in little ways and big ways. There’s arguing, name calling, and excuses, all while food and drink are being shoveled into their mouths. But, it’s something. It’s being a family and trying to solve a problem. Well, almost, a family.
“I’m assuming you all got this covered,” Mason says, sidling up to me.
“That’s it? You’re going to bail on us?”
“I’m working fifty hours a week and babysitting Dad. I don’t even live here. What more do you want from me?”
I glance to my younger brothers to see if they’ve heard the comment. They haven’t totally grasped yet how bad my dad is handling things. How far removed he is from reality. He’s just barely hanging on, but I’m praying with time that will get better. As much as I hate that Mason has a point, I can’t argue with him right now.
“Can you just come around on the weekends more? Check on things. Come for some dinners during the week? You have to eat, right?”
He puts an arm across my shoulder. “You going to cook me up something real nice, princess?”
“Fuck, off!” I jerk away from his hold.
“Come on, Lo, I’m just giving you a hard time. I’ll do what I can, okay?”
I give him a sidelong glance and pursed lips.
“I promise you, I’ll try,” he adds.
“Damn well better. All of you,” I say, turning to make eye contact with the rest. “We need to prove to everyone that we’re not going to fall apart just because of what happened. And if that’s not motivation enough for you, then you think how you’d feel if somebody came in here and took Belle away from us. Faces fall flat and silence envelops the group of us.
Later, when the room clears and all our doing their own things, I clean the mess in the living room. I’m not even pissed that no one helped because it was good night. In a way, it made me homesick for my other family. My guys, our troop…those we lost. I rub the short hairs on my jaw and remind myself to stay in the present. Focus on my family in the here and now. Since I’ve been back, I rarely let myself drift back there. The fear of those lost memories coming back keeps me in check. Some things are better left alone.
With my arms loaded, I head to the kitchen, where I find my dad sitting at the table with his head in his hands. I pretend not to notice that look on his face when he glance
s up, because I just can’t do it tonight. Not now. When you’re the person everyone leans on, it’s not always easy to stay standing at the end of the night. I start to clear the counter, but it doesn’t take long for the guilt to set in. I turn around and lean against the sink, ready to be whatever Dad needs. But when he looks up, his smile is everything. “You did good tonight, Son.”
My expression mirrors his. “Thanks.”
“I’m going to do better too. I promise.”
I nod because how the hell do I know how long it takes. He lost his wife and for the second time.
He gets up and lays his hand on my shoulder. “I never got a chance to tell you…”
My gaze meets his. “What?”
“I’m glad you’re home.”
Chapter 6
Mollie
I glance at the time on one of the computers at the nurses’ station and wonder why this day is dragging worse than Rocky’s ass across the carpet when he’s got a dingleberry. It's no different than any other day, but I keep feeling this sense of urgency, like I need time to speed up. I love my job. I live for my job. And not a day goes by that I’m not grateful for the opportunity, because God knows this was not something I thought I’d be doing or even thought was possible.
But today my mind is somewhere else, and that can be a dangerous thing in a place like this, especially for someone like me. I can’t afford to make mistakes. Get yourself together, Fisher, I tell myself, disappointed.
Robert walks up beside me and leans in. “Hey, you.” His scent jolts me, sending my self-esteem straight to the toilet. I mentally shake it away.
“Everything okay?” Dr. Suave asks softly when I don’t respond.
Hearing the concern in his voice should make me feel good. Once upon a time, when I’d forgotten I wasn’t a brainless puppy, who drops her panties for perfect teeth and a pat on the head, it did just that. Now it puts me on high alert and makes me feel guilty and defensive. “Great,” I say in a perky tone.
Building Bridges (Bridges Brothers Book 1) Page 5