by Tami Lund
She didn’t move away. In fact, she rested her head on his shoulder. He felt like the Grinch at the end of the book with the way his heart was swelling at the moment.
“What happened to him?” Grandma Bryant asked.
“Two days ago—well, three now, I guess—he went to Maecie’s hair salon for his usual appointment, and just as he was about to pay and leave, a group of fake FBI agents busted in and shot up the place. Luckily, I was there and grabbed Maecie and ran out the back.”
Elliot whistled. “Damn.”
Philip nodded. “I knew immediately that the guys weren’t real FBI agents, which is why I grabbed Maecie. I was worried that if they connected her to Frank, she’d be…”
“Killed,” Maecie piped up.
Philip tightened his grip around her shoulders while scrubbing his hand over his face. He didn’t like to think about it. Nor did he like to think about letting her get into that vehicle with Richard. Yet he knew he’d never stop thinking about it.
“So, anyway, I brought Maecie to my cabin, figuring it was the safest place for us to hide out while I tried to work out what was going on.”
“Wait, where’s your cabin?” Tommy asked.
Philip pointed. “About a mile that way.”
“Holy shit.”
Philip glanced at Maecie. “It kind of feels good to actually tell you guys that.”
He didn’t miss the brief twitch of her lips.
“Richard called while we were there and told me that Maecie was Frank’s accomplice.”
The room erupted into an uproar of denial. Funny how they’d embraced her as one of their own and they’d only known her for a few hours. But then again, so had Philip.
“I did some digging, which confirmed that she wasn’t. I also found out that Frank hadn’t done anything wrong. Which made the raid even more suspicious. Why would these guys mow down an innocent person like that? And then Richard showed up today. Well, yesterday. I shouldn’t have let you go with him.”
Maecie finally looked at him. “I didn’t exactly give you a choice, did I? Besides, you thought he was just going to question me and let me go home.”
“I should have insisted on going with you.”
“You did. And I refused, remember?”
“So what’s the actual story?” Kyle asked.
“According to some of my contacts and what they’ve gotten out of Richard so far, it all comes down to his gambling debts.”
Philip sighed.
“He was trying to figure out how to come up with capital he obviously didn’t have, and he came across an online article about Frank Charles. In the interview, Frank said something about not trusting banks and he preferred to use cash whenever possible.
“Richard determined that meant he probably kept a lot of cash stashed around his house. He actually attempted to stage a break-in first, but that failed. So he came up with the whole working-with-terrorists angle. He thought if he could gather enough fake evidence, he’d get to search the guy’s home, and planned to pocket whatever cash he stumbled across.”
“That sounds like a lousy plan,” Elliot said.
Philip nodded. “He’s a desperate addict, unfortunately. If he had been thinking clearly, he never would have risked his badge like that.”
“So how, exactly, were you involved?” Kyle asked.
“Richard asked me to watch Frank, basically so that I could feed him information about the guy’s day-to-day activities. That’s how he decided to do the fake raid at the salon; I told him about Frank’s every other Tuesday appointments.”
“Ten o’clock, on the dot,” Maecie said, her voice tinged with sadness. “And out by 10:30, without fail. It really was perfect, in a truly horrible way, wasn’t it?”
Philip felt the tremble roll through her body. He kissed the top of her head. If only they could have some alone time so he could comfort her, beg her forgiveness, and just…be with her.
Without an audience.
“What made you take the job Richard offered?” Grandma Bryant wanted to know.
Philip glanced at Maecie, who nodded. “I thought it would lead to a permanent job with the ATF. I wanted to…”
“Go legit?” Grandma suggested.
“Yeah.” He rubbed at his chest. “The day he asked me to watch Frank, I mentioned that I felt like my soul was being crushed by my current career. He told me he had a way to save my soul.”
“I think it worked,” Maecie said. “Just not the way you expected it to.”
He certainly would have rather it happened without Frank dying and without his friend going to prison.
But then again, he also might not have met Maecie. And even if they had met, if the circumstances were different, they might not have connected the way they had. And he might not have realized that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.
“I think this helped me too,” Maecie said, quietly, as if she only wanted him to hear.
“How do you figure?” Christ, he’d uprooted her out of her life, he’d taken her away from the only family she had left, he’d damn near gotten her killed. And she thought the experience helped her?
“Richard is the friend you were talking about when I told you about my mom’s addiction, isn’t he?”
Philip nodded.
“I realize I need to try harder with my mom. I’m going to get her some help, see if she can beat her addiction before she does something terrible like that.”
Philip tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I want to help.”
She smiled and tried to blink away the tears flooding her eyes. Philip helped by using his thumb to swipe them off her cheeks.
“I have more questions,” Kyle said.
“What’s that?” Philip asked without pulling his gaze away from Maecie’s face.
“How did Richard find you all the way over here on this side of the state?”
Breaking eye contact with Maecie, Philip sighed. “When the shooting occurred, Maecie was holding Frank’s coat, and she didn’t drop it when I dragged her out of there. Richard had planted this device, which could be used as a bomb, in his pocket. He figured that would be enough evidence to give him a search warrant. And since Frank was dead, no one would be able to tell whether any of his cash had been stolen.
“Once he realized the coat was gone, Richard had to figure out where it went. Somehow, he made the connection between Maecie and the coat. I think he suspected I had taken off with her, too, which was why he called to tell me she was an accomplice. He was hoping I’d hand her over. And when I didn’t, he had to figure out where I was hiding her.
“He knew I had a place in Detroit, but he didn’t know about my cabin. I’m guessing he went to my condo, deduced that I hadn’t been there in a while, and eventually staked out Mom and Dad’s house, following them over here to Tommy’s. He was betting that I wouldn’t put up a fuss about handing over Maecie with all of you all here as witnesses.”
“Added bonus making it sound like you’d used me,” Maecie said. “Which made me so angry that I went with him without even thinking about it.”
“And ensured I didn’t tag along, which would have ruined his plans of forcing you to hand over the brick.” He smiled down at her. “I’m glad you realize what he said was made up.”
“I’m still working to convince myself, actually.”
“I’m happy to help you with that little problem. I’m also happy to confess my undying love and to tell you that I really want you to accompany me to Tommy and Camila’s wedding. If that’ll help.”
Her mouth fell open as her eyes widened. “Did you just tell me you love me? Already?”
He shrugged. “Why wait to tell you when I already know it’s true?”
Somebody made an eeping noise. Could have been anyone in the room since they were all avidly watching the exchange.
Maecie launched herself into his arms, pressed her palms against his cheeks, and proceeded to kiss every inch of his face. He laughed. “Does
this mean my love might be reciprocated?”
“Yes. I love you, Philip Bryant.”
“Good.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close so that he could see Tommy over her shoulder. “Hey, I don’t suppose that security guard job at the track is still available? I might know someone who’s interested.”
“If it’s who I think it is, it’s most definitely still open,” Tommy replied.
Elliot gave them a blank look. “Who?”
Tommy laughed. “Why don’t you meet me at the track on Monday morning, and we’ll talk about responsibilities and pay and benefits and such?”
“That sounds perfect,” Philip said. Maecie gave him what he assumed was a reassuring squeeze. She approved of his choices. Good, because her approval was important. Damn important.
“Okay,” Maecie said. “Can we go back to your place now? I want to make coffee and put on pajamas and watch the sunrise.”
He jumped to his feet. “My pleasure, sweetheart. Bye, everyone. See you all later.”
As they headed toward the door, he heard Kyle say, “What the hell kind of weird rituals have those two already established?”
He laughed again. Someday, his brother would understand.
THE END
Want more? Keep reading for a sneak peek at the first chapter of Bryant Brothers #3 – The Right Tool…
The Bryant Brothers Book 3
The Right Tool
By Tami Lund
Motorcycle mechanic Kyle Bryant was content with his life, until last night, when he hooked up with his brother’s ex-girlfriend, Madison Alverez.
The next morning, they’re stuck on a plane together, and then they’re sharing a bathroom at a resort in Florida, while they prepare to stand up in her sister and his (other) brother’s wedding.
The situation is already awkward as hell… and he just made it worse by pretending to propose.
Suddenly, Kyle and Madison are knee-deep in a charade that feels all too real.
Until their lie is exposed.
Chapter One
Kyle Bryant handed the receipt to his last customer of the day. “You’re all set, Will. She’s race ready now.”
“Thanks so much for this, Kyle,” the fortyish-year-old gentleman said, waving at the dirt bike secured to the trailer hooked to a Dodge Ram idling in front of the shop. “I really appreciate you doing these repairs in time for my son’s birthday. He’s going to be thrilled.”
Kyle smiled. “I’ll be honest—there was a bit of selfishness in my goal to finish them so quickly. I’m going on vacation. The shop’s going to be closed until next Saturday, and I wanted to make sure everyone was taken care of before I leave.”
Will winked and stuffed the receipt into his coat pocket. “Is it your brother’s wedding?”
Kyle was pretty sure his mouth fell open. No one was supposed to know about Tommy and Camila’s destination wedding. They had insisted they wanted something small and quiet. The only guests were their immediate families.
And then, afterward, Tommy’s PR manager would leak pictures to the press, which would likely drum up business for the racetrack they owned, Rogers Speedway. Tommy was a famous, now-retired motocross racer with a huge fan base, and if they’d tried to plan a big wedding, well, there probably wasn’t a venue large enough for the number of folks Tommy would have felt obligated to invite.
Will chuckled. “I follow your brother’s racing page on Facebook. Whoever manages that account has been leaving some pretty broad hints about a secret wedding ceremony.”
Kyle blew out a breath. Maybe if he’d checked his own social media accounts at some point in the last few weeks, he’d know this. He lifted his hands in mock surrender. “I’m just doing what I’m told.”
“I hope you all are going somewhere warm to do it. February is the perfect time to get the hell out of Michigan.”
“You can say that again.” He didn’t add that yes, they were, in fact, going somewhere warm. Marco Island, Florida. The perfect backdrop for a beach wedding, according to Camila.
Kyle had been checking the forecast daily for the past two weeks, and it looked like they were headed for sunshine and eighty degrees while they were in Florida. Considering the view outside his shop was of thick piles of snow and mounds of wet, gray slush, Kyle definitely wasn’t complaining about his brother insisting he take his first real vacation since he opened his shop five years ago.
Will waved as he headed toward the door. “Well, thanks again, Kyle. Have fun next week.”
“Thanks. And tell your son happy birthday. And good luck on his next race.”
As Will climbed into his truck and pulled out of the small parking lot, Kyle started to flip the sign to closed and twist the deadbolt lock. Headlights flashed as an older model Ford Focus pulled in and parked in the spot Will had just vacated.
He stood at the door, waiting for the occupant to climb out and hurry toward the building. Madison Alverez wore a snow-white, puffy, thigh-length winter coat over her pale blue scrubs. On her feet were a pair of black Uggs stained gray around the edges by who knew how many winters’ worth of salt and snow. Her thick, dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her skin was way paler than it should be, given her Puerto Rican heritage.
Since she was Tommy’s fiancée’s sister and was also going to Florida for the wedding, Kyle figured that would change next week. Which was good. Pale and overworked were not how he liked to see her.
“Hey,” he said, holding the door open so she could step inside.
“Hey yourself. Looks like I got here just in time.”
“What’s going on?”
“I was hoping you’d give me an oil change before we left. The light’s been on for a week, and I figure if I’m going to leave it at the airport for another week, it’s best to have fresh oil in the tank.”
“How many times do I have to tell you to bring it in as soon as that light comes on?” He shook his head. “Pull ’er into the first bay. I’ll meet you over there.”
His shop specialized in dirt bikes and ATVs, but Kyle was also the go-to for his family when their vehicles needed maintenance. And Madison had been family since his youngest brother, Elliot, dated her when they were in college.
She stood next to him while he pressed the button to hoist the car up so that he could climb into the pit underneath and get to work changing her oil. That buzz he usually felt whenever she was around kicked into gear, and he hastily stepped away under the auspice of getting to work.
While he maintenanced her vehicle, Madison wandered around the bay, seemingly aimlessly. “Are you ready for this vacation?”
He shrugged, not that she could see the motion. “Sure. Although I still need to pack.”
“Not me. I’m ready to go. Well, other than taking a shower and getting a good night’s sleep.”
“Excited to go to Florida?”
“A little. I haven’t been in forever.”
“Our whole family went the year Elliot graduated high school.” He winced. Bringing up his brother’s name was generally a no-no when in Madison’s presence. Nine months after the breakup and she still sometimes got teary-eyed when she talked about Elliot. Personally, Kyle thought the two of them had been lousy as a couple, and since she was the one who called it quits, he didn’t understand why she was still so emotional.
“Not Marco Island though,” he added. “I’ve never been to that part of Florida.”
“Me neither. I’ve been to Miami, but the west side of Florida is a whole different world from the Miami metropolitan area. I packed a bunch of sundresses and swimsuits and all the cute sandals I own but hardly ever get to wear.”
Potential crisis averted, apparently. She was clearly too caught up in being excited over beach attire to wallow in sadness over a relationship that had been doomed from the get-go. Considering she was about to be stuck in close proximity for seven days with her ex, this was a small victory.
“Is that because you’re working too many h
ours, even in the summer?” he asked.
“It’s all part of my plan.”
Madison always had a plan. For everything.
“My goal is to have all my student loans paid off before Mr. Right comes along. Then, when he does and I decide to settle down and start a family, I will have no qualms about cutting back my hours.”
Mr. Right. What if Mr. Right was, well, right here? Kyle grimaced. It was like she saw falling in love and starting a family as some sort of transaction, the logical next step in the game of Life. Where was the romance in that?
And holy shit, did he sound like a sap or what?
Shaking his head, he said, “So are you officially on vacation now?”
“Yep. Came straight here after my twelve-hour shift at the hospital. Hey, speaking of vacation, do you want to carpool to the airport together?”
“Sure.” He’d thought about asking his parents if he could tag along with them, but they were probably taking Grandma Bryant and, mostly likely, Elliot as well. Being the fifth wheel in that little entourage sounded like way more effort than it was worth.
Nothing wrong with anyone in his family, but when Kyle was ready to go, ready to park at the airport, ready to unload his luggage, ready to head toward security, ready to get to his gate with plenty of time to spare, he didn’t want to be forced to wait on his slow grandma or his brother who would probably forget something important like his phone or his carryon bag. Turning around once they were on the freeway heading toward the airport would make Kyle want to tear out his hair.
But carpooling with Madison, well, that was perfect. Besides the fact that he’d get to spend one-on-one time with her, she’d likely be even more organized than he was.
“Great. I’ll pick you up at 7:30. I’m sure that’s way too early, but I figure we’ll get to the airport in plenty of time, and we can have breakfast while we wait for everyone else to rush to show up.”
