by Brisa Starr
Lockdown Love
Brisa Starr
Lockdown Love
Copyright © 2020 by Brisa Starr.
ISBN: 978-0-9823722-1-0
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book contains mature themes, strong language, and sexual situations. It is intended for mature readers. All characters are 18+ years of age and all sexual acts are consensual.
Also by Brisa Starr
His Secret (coming soon)
Save Me (coming soon)
For updates, visit:
BrisaStarr.com
Contents
1. Landon
2. Emma
3. Landon
4. Emma
5. Landon
6. Emma
7. Landon
8. Emma
9. Landon
10. Emma
11. Landon
12. Landon
13. Emma
14. Emma
15. Landon
16. Landon
17. Emma
18. Emma
19. Emma
20. Landon
Epilogue — Emma
Acknowledgments
About the Author
1
Landon
“It’s been a year already, Sadie. Sell the goddamn house,” I say into the camera on my phone. I’ve been dreading this call to my sister, but it’s time to do this. Knowing I won’t be able to stay on the call too long, I dismiss any guilt by strategically calling her while I’m between patients. I didn’t want to ruin my lunch.
Her big brown eyes are pleading, the same eyes our mom had. “Why are you in such a rush to sell the house, Landon? Don’t you care at all? I know I inherited all of the sentimental genes,” she tries to joke, “but, geez, I had my wedding in the back yard. Mom and Dad renewed their vows there. Does that mean nothing to you?”
I lean back in my chair and look out the window in my office overlooking one of the best golf courses in Madison, Wisconsin. This office park is prime real estate, and we paid a premium for it. But I wanted the view. And the access to golf. If only I could be out on the links right now, but it’s too damn cold in early March. Not to mention, it’s dreary and gray, which plunges my mood darker.
I turn my attention back to my sister. For the love of god, Sadie and her ridiculous sentimental feelings for that house. I rub my hand over my face in irritation and lean forward, “Look, Sadie, it’s been long enough. It’s time to move on. They died a year ago. I want the house sold.”
“Please, Landon, there has to be another way.” She brings her hands together like she’s praying and trying to make me smile at the same time. She always did that when we were kids, begging me to let her play with my toys or use my games. I always gave in, too. “I can’t bear to sell it yet. The money can’t be the only thing you care about.” She pauses and I know what’s coming. “I know it’s hard. You were so close to da-”
“Don’t go there, Sadie.” I cut her off, probably too harshly. “Look, I’m fine. It’s just time. It’s been sitting there, and I don’t want to pay another year of upkeep and property tax.”
She throws her hands up, frustrated with me, but I’m not budging. She puts her eyeball up to the camera on her laptop, trying to make me laugh and says, “There’s got to be another solution.” She leans back, her whole face in the picture again, “I don’t want to sell the house. I’m not ready.”
I can see my sister is hurting over this, but I won’t get emotional. It’s hard enough for me, too. I just want to move on. My heart rate increases a little, and I take a deep breath.
She suddenly looks up, her eyes bright with an idea. “Hey, what if I turn it into a holiday rental? If I can make it an income-producing property, would you agree that we can keep it? Please please please? I’ll do all the work, and it’ll be easy since I’m only a couple hours away.
I groan and look up at the ceiling.
“It’s a win-win, Landon,” she continues. “We keep Mom and Dad’s memories. We make money. And we have a great place to vacation whenever we want... a place with, like, seven golf courses and sunshine year round? Hmmm?”
She tempts me. She knew she had me with the talk of golf courses. And money. I tilt my head to the side and stare off at nothing in particular as I mull over the idea. She might be on to something. Plus, it’ll make her happy, which makes my life a lot easier.
But as her big brother, I have to make her sweat. That’s what big brothers do. “Gosh, I don’t know, Sadie, that seems like a lot of work. And strangers in the house? Isn’t that a little weird?”
“Just try it! I promise it’ll be a great idea, and if I’m wrong, I’ll put it up for sale and take care of everything with that, too. You won’t have to lift a finger.”
OK, enough torture. She might actually have a good idea. I like the idea of making money and having a place to stay with great weather.
“OK. Yeah. That’ll work, but get on it.”
“Roger that!” She salutes me through the phone. “Hey, by the way, how was your stress checkup with your doc?”
“I wouldn’t call it a stress checkup,” I snap.
She flicks her hand at the screen like she’s dismissing my statement and smirks. “Uh, OK, then what would you call it?”
I take another deep breath.
Deep breaths are supposed to help, or so says my doctor.
“Fine. You’re right,” I admit. “Doctor Lewis ran some blood work, and we talked about... things. He says I need to reduce my stress. He had me buy this weird, biohacking, quantified-self tracking ring thingy. It’s pretty cool-looking though.” I look down at the shiny onyx-black ring on my index finger.
“Cool! Lemme see.”
I hold my finger up to the camera so she can see it. “I’m supposed to start meditating every day, and the ring tracks my heart rate variability.” I sigh. “I don’t know if I buy into it all, but at this point, I’ll try anything.”
“Snazzy,” she says.
My desk phone buzzes. My receptionist lets me know my next patient is in the front office filling out paperwork. He’ll be ready to see me in five minutes.
“Alright, alright, I gotta run, Sadie. Let me know how renting the house goes once it’s set up.”
I end the call and see I have a message waiting. It’s my doctor reporting back with my blood results. He says everything looks tip-top for me, a fit guy in his early thirties, but that I need to work on my stress levels.
I know, I know.
He recommends I take some time off work, maybe a vacation, and to work on creating a solid meditation practice.
Meditation? For fuck’s sake. Never thought I’d be one to meditate, but it looks like I am now. All my life, I’ve been in control of everything. My emotions, my stress, my diet, my golf swing. I didn’t get this far in medicine and golf by floating through life. Discipline is everything.
Now it all feels like it’s going to shit.
I look out the window. It’s raining. I’m reminded of how depressing Wisconsin can be this time of year. I’d love to escape and play some golf, because that would relax me, big time. I’m sure my partners won’t mind covering for me for a couple of weeks. Besides, it’s what my doctor ordered.
A week passes, and I’m getting excited about taking some time off. Just as I thought, my partners can cov
er for me. Now, where to go for some R&R... and golf? I promised myself I’d master this meditation thing in two weeks, too. Experts say it takes 21 days to make a new habit. I’ll do it in 14.
I want warm weather, sunshine every day, and no fucking rain. Only one place to go. The desert. It dawns on me that with Sadie turning Mom and Dad’s house into a holiday rental, I should go there for my retreat. Besides, I can make myself useful and do any prepping the house might need for future guests. That’ll make my sister happy.
I get my suitcase out of the closet and dig out my favorite white and black golf shoes. I need to polish these before I go. I sit on my bed and grab my phone.
“Hey, Siri, FaceTime Sadie.”
“FaceTiming, Sadie,” my phone responds.
After two rings, she answers, smiling brightly into the camera.
“Hey little sis’, good news. I’m taking my doctor’s advice and going on a vacation. I’m gonna go to Sun City West for a couple of weeks of golf and meditation. I’ll stay at Mom and Dad’s.”
“That’s great news! When?” I see triumph written on her face.
“I was thinking next week.”
“Oh. I already have the place rented. Well, not the whole house. I’m renting out one of the rooms to a woman for a month, and she arrives next week.” Sadie wrinkles her nose, thinking hard.
“Rented already? That was fast. Good job, Sades.”
“You’re not the only smart kid in the family,” she says. “I figured I’d try renting individual rooms for now, the house being so big and all. Kind of like a bed-n-breakfast, ’cept I’m not there making breakfast for the guests.”
“Well, that’s fine with me if someone else is there. Is she hot?”
“Landon! Don’t be a pig.”
I throw my hands up in surrender. “OK, OK,” I chuckle. “Seriously, though, I can still go. I won’t be in her way, I promise. And maybe I’ll make her breakfast.” I wink.
She snorts, dismissing my breakfast comment, but she knows I make a mean omelet. “I guess that’ll be alright. I’ll fire off an email to let her know so she’s not surprised by an extra person there. And for heaven’s sake, behave yourself,” she warns me, wagging her finger through the screen.
She leans in and squints her eyes at me, “Seriously though, give her space. I guess she’s working on a book, and that’s why she’s staying a whole month. Stay out of her hair, Landon.”
“Don’t worry, Sadie,” I calm her. “Between my double rounds of golf every day and trying to learn how to meditate, she won’t even know I’m there.”
“Alright, well I drove down there the other day to prep the house. Marsha, across the street, has a key to let the woman in. But if you get there first, then that’s fine. Oh, her name is Emma.”
“Sounds like an old-lady name. Hey, if she’s old, maybe I can get her to make me breakfast. You know how grandmothers are.”
“Landon, stop. You’re not as funny as you think you are.”
“I’m kidding! But, because I actually am a helpful guy, I’ll also see if anything needs fixing around the house while I’m there,” I promise.
“You’ve never fixed a thing in your life, Landon,” she says with a laugh. “But, hey, maybe some light bulbs need changing.”
“Enough, ya little twerp. Well, I’m off to wrap up some things, and then I’ll be heading out there. I’ll touch base when I arrive.”
“OK, and hey, Landon, take one of the back bedrooms. Emma gets the master. You hear me?” she presses.
“What? Come on, seriously?”
“Yes. Don’t start with me on this. She’s paying for a whole month and deserves the bigger room with a private bathroom.”
“Fine,” I grumble.
“And besides, with your meditating, you should be all Zen about it anyway,” she quips.
“I haven’t really started yet, but you know me, I like a challenge. Anyway, I’ll talk to ya later. Love you.”
I lean back in my chair and feel a weight lifting off me for the first time in a year. I hope the meditation actually works. People sure claim it works wonders. But deep down, I also know it’ll be hard staying in Mom and Dad’s house. I haven’t been back there since they died. But with someone else there, plus a lot of golf, and the mission of meditation... maybe I’ll find a happier place.
Exiting Sky Harbor Airport in Phoenix, I drive my rental car west on the I-10, heading to my parents’ house in Sun City West, a massive, upscale, master-planned retirement community on the outskirts of the Phoenix metropolitan area.
I already feel better about my choice to come here. That’s what Arizona does to people, especially those who hate gray skies and cold weather. The sun is always shining and the weather makes me happy. The mountains surrounding the valley are beautiful, and when you add all the palm trees, my body shifts into vacation mode, ready to chill.
That’s exactly what I need right now. A vacation to both relax and get my shit together. The stress of the last year... I’ve had enough of it. I’m here to change all that.
I crank the music and roll down the windows, enjoying the fresh air blowing through the car, appreciating that I can even do this in March. Again, that’s Arizona. It’ll be weeks before I can drive with the windows down in Wisconsin. They were about to get dumped on with snow right after I left.
Forty minutes later, I pull into my parents’ neighborhood. The calm I enjoyed until now leaves me as I realize that I’m headed to my parents’ house. I haven’t been there in over a year. The irony... working on my stress, here, at their home, when their unexpected deaths were the cause of my stressful year. It suddenly hits me, and I feel the heaviness in my chest. Deep breath. In and out.
I refocus my mindset. Maybe it was meant to be, coming here for my R&R. Facing it head-on, like ripping off the Band-Aid.
I drive down their street, and I’m just about to pull into the driveway, when an enchanting scene disrupts my thoughts. Bending over the trunk of a car is a woman. She’s trying to dig her suitcase out. I’m presented with the nicest ass I’ve ever seen.
This must be Emma. What perfect timing, to arrive just when she’s pulled up. I wonder if her face is as pretty as her ass. She’s wearing tight, black leggings and, even though I haven’t even met her yet, I find myself a bit too intrigued at how good she looks from behind. Down boy.
I pull my car in and park next to her car. I set the emergency break, because my parents’ driveway has a bit of an incline. I see that she must’ve rented an Uber because the driver is sitting in the front seat, not even helping her with her luggage. What a jerk.
I get out of my car and approach her, “You must be Em-” but I’m cut off as she turns around looking startled, and I’m startled in return. Her beauty steals the air from my lungs. “Fuck, you’re pretty,” I blurt softly. She has the most hypnotic light green, almond-shaped eyes I’ve ever seen, framed by long dark lashes, and beautiful, wavy, chestnut brown hair.
I’m in trouble.
And she ain’t old.
She stiffens and then blushes after getting a better look at me. “Um, thank you,” she says.
“I’m sorry. I’m Landon,” I say quickly, trying to recover.
Her look changes to confusion. “You’re who?” she asks.
“I’m Landon. I’m Sadie’s brother,” I answer, extending my hand for her to shake, “You’re renting my parents’ house here for the month.”
She doesn’t take my hand and continues to look at me. I think she’s surprised I’m here. Which I don’t understand because I just told her who I was. I put my rejected hand in my pocket. “Is there a problem?”
It dawns on her, and she relaxes her shoulders. “Oh! You must be here to give me the key. I was expecting the neighbor across the street to give it to me. Sadie said Marsha would meet me here.”
“Didn’t Sadie tell you?” I ask, noticing her peaches-’n-cream skin and full, pink lips. “She was supposed to let you know that I was coming here for a cou
ple weeks to stay, too.”
Disappointment flickers in her beautiful eyes as she digests the information.
“No,” she says, a bit sharply. “She didn’t say anything about that.”
“Whoops.” I shrug. “Well, I’m sorry if I surprised you.” Unable to take my eyes off her, I wonder why she’s being short with me. I’m sure she didn’t expect the whole house to herself anyway, so what’s the big deal? “I’m out here for a couple weeks. I’m just taking some time off work to play golf, relax, and pretty much chill.”
She just stands there. She’s still staring at me, clearly not happy. But I see her look me up and down quickly, trying, and failing, to conceal it. The previous disappointment in her eyes is slowly replaced with... appreciation? Approval, even? Haha — yeah I’m not so bad, eh? “But don’t worry. You’ll hardly know I’m here,” I say as I raise my hands in surrender.
The Uber driver rolls down his window and clears his throat. Emma turns back around to the car and resumes trying to remove her big-ass luggage from the trunk. She heaves and pulls a couple of times, with no luck. I reach into the trunk to help her. “Please. Let me get this for you.”
“That’s O-”
Ignoring her resistance, I grab the handle and she steps out of the way. I lift the massive luggage out of the car and set it down on the driveway. It’s heavy as fuck. “Wow. You staying for six months? What the hell is in there?”
I laugh.
She doesn’t.
Bad move, Landon.
I must’ve pissed her off with that question. Her hands are now firmly on her hips, her eyes square at me.
