Just What I Needed

by Lorelei James

  “Dude. You asked him for a ‘break’ on your second date. At least you think you did. Let that sink in for a moment.”

  I did. I sighed. “I suck.”

  She smirked. “You give him a heartfelt apology and you might just get to prove how well you do that.”

  “Out.”

  Nine

  WALKER

  Since Brady and Lennox were out of town until the Lund family barbeque later this afternoon, I worked out in Brady’s state-of-the-art fitness center. Normally I took Sundays off, but I hoped if I pushed myself through two cycles of the excruciating, sweet agony of P90X, I could stop obsessing over Trinity.

  Three hours of sweat and pain did take my mind off her.

  But as soon as I hit the sauna, it all came rushing back. The sense she’d been so eager to hide away that she hadn’t really listened to me. Hell, she’d barely looked at me. She’d run up the sidewalk and hadn’t looked back.

  I kicked myself the entire way home because I should’ve chased after her. I should’ve used the sexual heat between us to sort things out.

  You are sorted. She is waffling. And really, is that what you want? A woman who isn’t sure if she wants to be with you because her job is more important? When you could pick up the phone right now and half a dozen other women would be happy to get your call?

  Yet when I tried to recall the name of anyone interesting I’d met recently, I drew a blank. The only woman in my mind’s eye was Trinity.

  After exiting the shower I checked the time on my cell and swore. Now, because of my excessive brooding, I’d be late to the barbecue. Since Mom was hosting, my late arrival meant a late departure—aka, assigned to cleanup duty.

  My phone buzzed and I glanced at the text. Brady reminding me to bring his gear for the family basketball game. Now I really wish I hadn’t worked out for three freakin’ hours. I’d be worthless on the court.

  —

  The courtyard at my folks’ house was packed with cars. The house I’d grown up in was enormous. I’d never really thought too much about it because it was home. While it did take a team of domestic workers to help run a household this size, I hadn’t considered them employees. They were part of the Lund collective. The housekeepers, the cooks, the groundskeeper and the maintenance man had all worked for Ward and Selka Lund for over twenty-five years.

  Yet my parents hadn’t hired a nanny, not even when they had four kids under the age of seven. Since my aunts and uncles had also raised their kids the same way, I believed it was normal. It wasn’t until I’d gotten older that I discovered how rare that was for people of my parents’ social stature. They’d kept us as grounded as they could while providing us with the means to do whatever we wanted. There were no two people I respected more than my mom and dad. Somehow they’d found the balance between raising kids in a privileged environment and not allowing us to believe we were entitled simply because our Lund ancestors had been shrewd enough to amass a fortune.

  My dad opened the front door and stepped out just as I was about to go in. He smiled at me and lowered the bag of garbage he was carrying to give me a one-armed hug. “Hey. You’re looking good today. Your mother will be pleased you made an effort.”

  I lived and worked in casual clothes—much to my mother’s chagrin. This morning I’d dug through my closet for a pair of khakis, a polo shirt and my least scuffed-up pair of loafers. Yeah, I was totally sucking up to Mom for avoiding her, and Dad knew it.

  “Walk with me, son.”

  I eyed the bag of garbage. “Mom let you waltz through the house and out the front door with that?”

  “She didn’t see me.”

  “Keep telling yourself that, Dad. She sees everything.”

  “Don’t I know it. Be hell to pay later, I’m sure, but I like her feisty.”

  “More than I needed to know.”

  He laughed. We rounded the corner on the far side of the house and he opened the door leading to the garbage bay. “Be right back.”

  I leaned against the fence and gazed across the grounds. Fabian, the groundskeeper, did an amazing job keeping everything looking lush. In the last five years he’d redone the landscaping, removing large areas of manicured lawn and planting trees, shrubs and flowers in interesting configurations, significantly lowering the amount of water needed to maintain the green space. Since I couldn’t hire Fabian away from my parents, I’d sent him a few apprentices to learn from the best before they came to work for me.

  The gate slammed shut. “Let’s cut through the garage to get to the patio.”

  “Don’t you wanna drag me into the house so Mom can blister my ear about my selfish and rude behavior?”

  “It can wait until after.”

  When he didn’t elaborate, I said, “Until after what?”

  “Lunch and . . . ah . . . stuff.”

  I jogged around the Mercedes coupe and planted myself in front of him. “Level with me. Did Mom set me up with someone and she’s waiting out there? Is that why you’re acting so weird?”

  He sighed. “And I thought Annika was the dramatic one.”

  “She is the dramatic one. I’m the black sheep.”

  Sorrow darkened his eyes. “You know that’s not true, Walker. But there was a time in my life I felt that way too.”

  Like me, Dad was the middle Lund son. His older brother, Archer, was the Lund Industries CEO, and his younger brother, Monte, was a former pro basketball player and now the president of the LI Board of Directors. Unlike Dad, I hadn’t carved out a spot for myself in the family business between two super-successful brothers; I’d opted to forge a different path. If that decision had disappointed him, he’d managed to keep it to himself.

  “Relax. There’s no woman lurking outside. Your mother and I have other things on our mind today.”

  “That’s supposed to set my mind at ease?” Now I felt guiltier yet for my self-imposed family exile. “Everything is all right health-wise with you and Mom?”

  “Yes. Seriously, son, the best thing you can do is grab a beer and mellow out.” He sidestepped me and exited the garage.

  Mellow out. Right. He talked like that only when he was nervous about something.

  I squinted in the blindingly bright sun after being in the darkness. My family members were scattered across the patio, pool and lounge areas. I ducked under the awning, reached into the steel tub filled with ice for a beer and came up with a Schell’s twist-top.

  I’d taken a healthy swig when I saw my sister in a heated discussion with Nolan.

  Not good.

  I crossed the decking to intervene, only to be stopped by a pint-sized pixie. Jaxson’s daughter, Milora Michele “Mimi” resembled Tinker Bell in an acid green fairy costume she’d paired with a tiny pair of glittery rainbow wings and a tiara. I crouched down to hug her. “Princess, I didn’t know you’d be here today.” Jaxson’s baby mama, Lucy—aka Lucifer—was a real piece of work and tried to deny Jaxson time with his daughter. The situation sucked because Jax lived in Chicago during hockey season while Mimi lived in Minneapolis with her mom.

  “I’ve been here the last four times,” she complained. “Where have you been?”

  Hiding. “Working. Why? Did you miss me?”

  “Uh-huh. I missed you a lot, Runner.”

  Runner. She claimed the name Walker didn’t fit me since I was always in a hurry, so Little Miss Smart-as-a-Whip decided to call me Runner.

  “But I forgive you.” She threw her arms around my neck and squeezed.

  I closed my eyes. I loved this kid. I hated that I’d missed out on spending time with her.

  The hug lasted about ten seconds before Mimi struggled to free herself. “I gotta tell Daddy something.” She raced off, making a beeline toward her father. Jaxson caught her one-handed and then dangled her upside down, not missing a beat in his conversation with his dad. But his big smile when she shrieked happily said it all.

  “He’s a great father, no?”

  I dropped my arm acros
s my mom’s shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “Yes, he is. But he’s learned by example. As we all have. So don’t think for a moment I don’t know how lucky I am to have you and Dad as parents.”

  She set her hand on my chest when she moved to stand in front of me.

  Selka Jensen Lund was beautiful, a modern-day Scandinavian ice princess with blond hair, blue eyes and razor-sharp cheekbones. She looked a solid ten years younger than her age.

  “Why the melancholy face, my boy?”

  “Feeling guilty.”

  “You’re here. That’s what matters.” She fiddled with the collar of my polo shirt. “I missed you. Sometimes . . . I’m pushy mama. I jump over the track.”

  “You mean you cross the line?”

  “Yah. Whatever. The point being—”

  “You’re done nagging me about finding a suitable woman to settle down with?” I supplied.

  “Suitable. Bah. You need woman who gives you big, messy love that makes you crazy.”

  Immediately I thought of Trinity.

  Something on my face revealed my thought because my mother lightly chucked me under the chin. “You have girl like this and don’t tell me?” Then she punctuated her displeasure by drilling her sharp fingernail into my chest with every curt word. “Talk. Walker. Gustav. Lund.”

  Use of my full name indicated she meant business. I clasped her hand to stop her talon from shredding my shirt. “Chill out, Mom. I met her last week. So it’s . . . new.”

  “New is good, yah? You bring her next time.”

  “We’ll see. I don’t know if she’s ready for all of this.”

  “All of this”—she spun her hand above her head like a sorceress casting a spell—“is what made you the man standing in front of me. If she likes that man—”

  “Well, that’s the complicated part.”

  Her blue eyes turned frosty. “I will meet this woman and uncomplicate for her.”

  Jesus. “I appreciate you pulling out your sword, Valkyrie mama, but these are dragons I have to slay myself if I want to prove myself worthy of the girl.” Thank god none of my siblings or cousins were around to hear that, because they’d harass me endlessly for my romantic metaphor.

  My mom patted my cheek. “You do that, my brave boy. Maybe find out she prefers . . . smooth-scaled dragon to shaggy beast, no?”

  Now we were back in familiar territory. “She likes my facial hair just fine, Mom.”

  “Och. This too pretty a face to hide behind grizzled Adams beard.”

  “You mean a Grizzly Adams beard?”

  “Yah. Whatever.”

  “Selka?” Aunt Priscilla called out.

  “Be right there, sugar,” she called back in a perfect imitation of her sister-in-law’s Southern drawl. Then she gave me one last chest poke. “You are not off the hanger.” She hustled away before I could correct her.

  I wandered over to Annika and Nolan, noticing our cousin Ash now stood between them. “What’s up?”

  “Nolan is being an asshat,” Annika said. “So really, nothing new here.”

  I looked at Ash and he rolled his eyes.

  “And you’re not the tiniest bit concerned about her, Ash?” Nolan asked. “You are her brother.”

  Ash shrugged. “I learned long ago that Dallas does what Dallas wants to do.”

  “Even if she wants to do a hockey player?” Nolan demanded.

  “Not my business.”

  “It shouldn’t have been her business either. But Annika—”

  “Did not want to be alone with two gigantic non-English-speaking hockey brutes! I only had your say-so that they were decent guys.”

  “So as usual, immediately discount my opinion,” Nolan shot back.

  Annika got in Nolan’s face. “It’s not just you, genius. I don’t take the word of any man that ‘so-and-so’ is a great guy. It’s not something that men understand because they don’t have to worry about it. Can you imagine how you’d feel if either of them had turned out to be creeps with ulterior motives?”

  “Moot point now since Dallas had ulterior motives. She’s with him today, isn’t she?” Nolan said.

  “No, she’s at a mandatory cheerleading practice. Besides, how was I supposed to know they’d hit it off?”

  “Who’d Dallas pick? The Russian or the Swede?” I asked.

  Annika wrinkled her nose. “Igor, the Russian, of course, because Axl is an asshole. He was . . . pucking our waitress at the coat check during the dessert course.”

  Jaxson and Mimi joined us. “Whatcha talking about?”

  “Your former teammates, particularly the Swedish”—Annika considered Mimi and curbed her tongue—“meathead.”

  Jaxson raised both eyebrows. “You mean Axl? He’s a great guy.”

  “Game, set and match.” Annika plucked Mimi off Jaxson’s hip. “Come on, princess. Let’s find an intelligent conversation.”

  Jax watched them walk away. “What did I say?”

  “The wrong thing and let’s leave it at that. So Mimi looks good.”

  “Because she’s been with me the last six weeks. She goes back to Lucy tonight. Then I’m flying out. Training camp starts at seven a.m.”

  “When’s the next time you’ll see her?” I watched Jaxson’s brooding gaze follow Annika and Mimi.

  “I’ll be here for her first day of school. Who knows after that?”

  “We’ll make sure she gets to see you,” Nolan said. “And she’ll be going to Mom and Dad’s after school two days a week this year so we’ll get to keep a better eye on her.”

  “Thank god for that.” He scrubbed his hand over his face. “I just miss her. I’m glad that now she’s old enough to miss me too.”

  Speaking of missing . . . I’d been so absorbed in my own stuff that I hadn’t seen my youngest brother. “Where’s Jensen?”

  Ash pointed. “Over there.”

  I saw Jens pacing beside the koi pond, phone stuck to his ear. “Is he okay?”

  “He’s been on his cell since ten minutes after he got here.”

  Jensen hated talking on the phone. He’d drive across the city during rush-hour traffic to talk to me before he’d call. “I’ll wander over and see what’s up.”

  “When’s Brady getting here?” Nolan asked.

  “No idea.”

  “You guys better not be wussing out on the basketball game,” Jaxson warned.

  “We’re not.” My quads were screaming by the time I reached the top of the slope. I’d definitely overdone the workout today.

  Jensen had stopped pacing. He stood with his left hand resting on top of his head; his phone remained pressed against his right ear. This was his “I’m about to blow” posture.

  “I’m done talking about this with you, Aggie. No. I’m serious as a fucking heart attack. Last warning: Fix this or I’ll fire you.” He hung up and glared at his phone.

  For a split second I thought he’d chuck it in the pond. But he shoved it in his back pocket, rolled his head around a few times as if he had a neckache.

  Then he scowled at me. “Don’t ask.”

  “Tough shit. I’m asking. What the hell was that?”

  “A disagreement with my agent about a PR opportunity. I