Just What I Needed (The Need You Series)

by Lorelei James

  Jens and I exchanged a fist bump and a grin.

  “Spill the deets, bro,” he said.

  Brady sighed. “It seemed prudent to have Lennox pick out her own engagement ring since it’ll be on her hand for the rest of her life.”

  I mouthed, Prudent, at Jens and he snickered.

  “Piss off. Seriously.”

  “Sorry. Continue.”

  He took a swig of beer. “After I picked up our matching rings, I started to panic about coming up with a perfect surprise proposal. Being a practical man, I decided to skip the proposal entirely and go straight to the main event. We’d already booked the vacation, so I scrambled to get the license. I asked Lennox’s old roommate Kiley to find a dress for her to wear, since she knew Lennox’s style, and I had it shipped to the hotel along with my suit. I ordered her favorite flowers, booked the honeymoon suite, hired a judge, found a spot on the beach and”—he smiled—“totally knocked her off her feet.”

  “Cool. That’s the way to do it. Keeps it private and personal.”

  “Thanks. Neither of us wanted a wedding spectacle.”

  I raised my bottle to him. “I’ll say thanks for letting me skip wearing a tux.”

  “You’re welcome. Enough about that. What’s going on with you and the mystery chick?”

  “What mystery chick?” Jensen repeated.

  “Walker didn’t tell you that he had a kiss-and-run incident in a dive bar with a hot brunette who lied about her name and gave him a fake phone number?” Brady said innocently.

  Asswipe. I glared at him.

  “No, it’s the first I’ve heard of it.” Jensen cuffed me in the back of the head. “Where’s the damn love for me? I oughta know this shit, bro.”

  “I’ll show you the love, jackass.” I took a swing at him, but he could move lightning fast and dodged me.

  “Knock it off, you two,” Brady warned. “So you found her?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How?”

  “Total coincidence.”

  “And?”

  “And … it’s complicated.”

  “Thankfully I have a brain that can follow complex human social patterns,” Brady said.

  “Ditto for me,” Jensen chimed in. Then he added, “Dubbya, it blows when you boycott the family deals and pull the turtle routine so none of us know what’s shaking in your life.”

  “Sorry. I just—” Didn’t think you’d noticed.

  “Skip to the down-and-dirty parts and all will be forgiven.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Please tell me she wore a mask or something kinky when you found out her true identity.”

  “There is no down and dirty. Or kinky.”

  “Dude.” Jensen slumped in his chair. “I thought I was the only one who wasn’t getting laid regularly.”

  “Funny, football star.” I drank my beer. “You get laid more often than anyone I know except Nolan.”

  “Wrong. I haven’t had my goalpost polished for weeks. I’m done with sideline bunnies. This year I’m one hundred thousand percent focused on my game.”

  Brady leaned in. “Can we get back on track? Mystery chick story?”

  “Notice how the newlywed isn’t lamenting his sorry sex life,” I grumbled.

  “Because it’s not sorry. It’s spectacular.” He smirked. “It’s good to be me. Now on with it.”

  “Fine.” I filled in the blanks for Jens and relayed the week’s events, including the crap night at Ramon’s party and Trinity’s bizarre behavior afterward. “I haven’t decided what I’ll do about it.”

  Jensen said, “Forget about her,” at the same time Brady said, “Fight for her.”

  “Helpful advice, guys. Thanks.”

  “Describe your lady’s weird behavior.”

  “She babbled a bunch of stuff that made no sense and then when I responded? It was like she hadn’t heard anything I’d said. Why?”

  “Every time Lennox and I crossed paths before we started dating, she blurted out rude things to me.”

  I frowned. “Lennox? Really?”

  “Hard to believe because she’s never that way now. She confessed it was a nervous reaction to me then.” He paused. “Maybe her embarrassment level increased after she woke up in your truck and she said whatever she needed to to get away. Classic flight response.”

  I hadn’t considered that.

  “Or maybe she’s just a damn head case,” Jensen said.

  Brady scowled at him.

  “What? It’s a possibility. Especially given his track record with women.” Jensen squinted at me. “Dude. You are a magnet for crazy. You remember Firebug Fiorina?”

  “She’s a little hard to forget since she torched my golf cart.” Not that I could prove it.

  “Who was the girl who bawled about everything?”

  “Wailing Whitney.” The last straw was when she sobbed hysterically in Perkins when they buttered the toast she’d ordered dry.

  Jensen snapped his fingers. “Which one put her cat in therapy because he ‘seemed depressed’ after being declawed?”

  “Neurotic Natalie,” Brady supplied.

  Awesome that they remembered all of this when I’d tried so damn hard to forget.

  “Neurotic Natalie at least could hold a conversation. I never heard Zoned-Out Zoë utter a word. She just cocked her head and stared at me every time I tried to talk to her.”

  Jens snorted. “I never saw ZZ without a blunt tucked behind her ear.”

  “The stoner was way better than Angry Amy. Christ. Do you remember when we went to that movie at the Uptown? And we saw her standing in the front of the theater yelling at people to stop misogynists from co-opting the female experience by turning every movie into a dick pic?”

  “I’m pretty sure she’s a lesbian now.”

  “I’d watch that porn,” Jensen said. “Man. She was smoking hot.”

  “Vicious Vera was hot too,” Brady said. “But that did not make up for that mouth of hers.”

  Jensen scratched his chin. “She’s the one who made Annika cry?”

  “Yep.” But Vera had been no match for one pissed-off Mama Lund. That’s probably why she was the last woman I’d brought to any Lund gathering.

  “Who are we forgetting?”

  “I wish you’d forget about them all.”

  “Have you talked to Annika about this thing with Trinity?”

  I shook my head. “She’s on an ‘All men are dogs’ tear.”

  “I noticed. What’s up with that?” Jens asked.

  “Hockey players.”

  He snorted. “Enough said.”

  Brady stood. “Good gossiping with you girls, but I’m going to fetch my wife.”

  The party broke up soon after.

  I was putting the leftover beer in the bar fridge in the family room when Mom sauntered in and parked herself on a barstool.

  “I hear that heavy sigh. Is it so … weary making that I wish to speak with you?”

  “Of course not.”

  “You done avoiding Brady and Lennox now that they’re bored married couple?”

  “They’ve been married a few days. I’d hope they’re not bored already.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I’ve told you; I wasn’t avoiding Brady and Lennox.”

  “Yah? You came to the last barbecue that they did not. Time before that—you leave right after they arrive. Brady does everything first, no? He’s oldest, you expect it. But not with this. Not with him getting what you want most. It’s hard pill to chew. Of all my children, Walker, you are most like me. You’re in this family, a happy family you love, but you want a family of your own. That was the way of your grandmother. That is the way of me. You are the same.”

  “Mom—”

  “Listen to me. Why did you, young man of twenty-four, buy such grand house? Because you saw it as family home. And why, as the owner of company that renovates houses, have you not renovated yours? I tell you why. Because you are waiting to renovate when you find the woman wh
o will live with you there for good.”

  And … once again, she’d completely blown me away. I’d never told anyone about the first time I’d entered my house and knew I’d found where I belonged. I imagined the echo of feet running up and down the long oak staircase. I heard dogs barking, cartoons blaring, the sounds of a family gathered in the kitchen to share a meal. I felt the happy vibe of the families who’d lived and loved and fought and laughed and cried together in the space and I wanted that for myself.

  “There is no shame in wanting that,” she said gently.

  “What if I don’t get it?” I don’t remember ever voicing that fear aloud.

  “You will. You may have to work for it. Or you may have to be patient. But that crazy, messy love is worth it.”

  That’s when I knew, without a doubt, that Trinity was the one for me. I hadn’t been actively searching for a place to live when I’d found my home. I hadn’t been looking for a relationship when Trinity knocked me for a loop with the kiss of a lifetime.

  She wrapped her arms around my waist and pressed her cheek into my back. “It’s been rough year. Brady focused on Lennox leaves less time for you. Nolan working more at LI with Ash means they both have less time for you. Annika is …” She sighed. “Unaware unless she needs something. As is Dallas. Jensen picks his teammates over you. Jaxson is only about pucks and Mimi. So I understand you avoiding family time wasn’t only about jealousy. I watched and hated for you that none of them realized you are lonely and forgotten in this big family.”

  I wasn’t surprised she’d caught on to that either. I’d been adrift for more than a year and I’d yet to see a familiar hand out to pull me back in.

  And here it was. I grabbed on. “Thanks.”

  “It is what I do.”

  She started to leave and I said, “Mom?”

  “Yah?”

  “I’ll bring her to the next family thing.”

  Ten

  TRINITY

  I’d had a vicious headache since my conversation with Genevieve—because you know she’s right.

  I’d managed to finish one section on the Stephens piece—slow and steady ain’t an option on this commission.

  I’d eaten nothing—you need to lose weight anyway.

  I’d had enough of being in my own head. It was mighty crowded in there with doubt, self-flagellation and anxiety chiming in.

  I locked the studio, noticing the sunny day had turned gray and windy, the air thick with impending moisture. Yeah. That fit my mood.

  In my house, when I checked the messages on my cell, I had four voice mails from Ramon. One from Esther Stephens. None from Walker.

  Why are you surprised? You basically told him to give you space. You really thought a man like that would wait around for you to get it together?

  “Stop. Dammit. Just stop it right now! I do not need this.”

  My voice echoed in the silent space as the words reverberated in my head.

  A beat passed. Two beats. Then all was quiet.

  I didn’t trust it. Those sneaky doubts hid in all corners of my mind, constantly clamoring for attention. Most days I fought back against them. Some days I didn’t have the mental fortitude.

  Enough negativity. Focus on what’s important: figuring out how to apologize to Walker.

  After eating a sandwich, I left for the community center. I was earlier than normal, so Chris and Nate—deep in conversation—didn’t notice when I slipped in.

  Usually I left the door open, letting the sounds of creativity inspire me. But today I needed to drown out everything. With my wireless headphones in place and techno-pop music on my phone cranked to the highest volume, I got to work.

  I didn’t stop or even slow down until the last section of plywood was propped against the wall. After ditching the headphones, I turned in a slow circle for a quick inventory of what I’d accomplished in four hours. Damn. I wished I could be that productive every day.

  Two knocks sounded and the door opened. Walker stepped in and closed the door behind him. “Hey. Got a minute?”

  My heart raced. Two seconds in the presence of this hunky and formidable man and all the creative ways to grovel I’d conjured up the past few hours vanished. I probably shouldn’t gawk at him, but I couldn’t help it. He always looked amazing. Did he roll out of bed with his hair artfully tousled?

  “Why are you staring at me like that? Because I’m such a distraction?”

  Ouch. I deserved that. My eyes connected with his. “I’m wondering if you ever suffer from bedhead. I’ll bet your beard even looks sexy first thing in the morning after being smashed into the pillow all night.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “You probably don’t have bad morning breath either.”

  Walker’s eyes widened and then he laughed. “Of all the things you could’ve said, none of those were in the stadium, let alone the ballpark.”

  “I thought you hated sports analogies.”

  “If I hated them, I wouldn’t use them. And it isn’t like there are other options.”

  “Like from the art world? How about: ‘Of all the things you could’ve said, none of them were in the same collection, let alone the whole museum.’”

  He blinked at me as if I’d spoken Swahili.

  I sighed. “You’re right. It doesn’t fit.”

  He turned and wandered around the room, checking out the scenery. “You’re caught up. You in a hurry to finish this project and move on?”

  “I’m just doing what I’m paid to do.” Brr. Way to sound like the ice queen. “This is a side gig. The sooner I get it done, the faster I can return to my real work.” That sounded frostier yet.

  Walker’s spine stiffened. “Yes, you’ve made your priorities very clear.”

  Truth time. My pulse spiked. “Have I? Maybe you can refresh my memory because I’m drawing a blank.” I paused. “Not that you can actually draw a blank, because the act of drawing, even a single line, changes the composition from nothing into something.” Shut it, Trinity. Do not board the crazy train to Babble-onia this early.

  “Do you do that a lot?”

  “Do what? Draw blanks? No. I’m so much better at drawing conclusions.”

  “That’s not what I meant. Look, Saturday night you seemed fine until—”

  “I wasn’t fine, Walker. Not at all.” I blew out a breath. “I’m sorry.”

  “For?”

  “For everything. When I realized you’d overheard everything Ramon had said about me? That’s when I closed down.”

  “So you actually thought I’d be swayed in my opinion of you by what that blowhard said about you?”

  “Maybe it was an irrational fear, but that’s the thing about irrational fears—they make zero sense. But I’ve been down this road before—too many times to count. Men run at the first sign of any kind of emotional outburst or drama and Saturday was chock-full of drama. When I woke up after I cried myself to sleep in your arms, I panicked and … I have this … thing. Where my brain disconnects but, lucky me, my mouth is free to run unchecked without that pesky thing called reason kicking in.”

  “I caught that.”

  “You did?”

  “It’s hard to miss, sweetheart. You weren’t acting like you. Before I could figure out a way to help you, you bailed on me and took away my choice.”

  “I don’t know how to help myself. I’m kind of a freak.”

  The tension in the air became thicker than the paint fumes.

  “Trinity.”

  I prepared myself for the “It’s not working out” speech I’d heard my entire dating life, which I always translated to, You are a weirdo and I’m gone. “What?”

  “Baby, you’re not a freak.”

  I placed my hand on my belly as if I could stop it from churning with hope. “Really?”

  “Really and truly.” Walker moved closer and put his big hand over mine. His lips brushed my ear. “Breathe.”

  I did.

  We stayed like that for several long moments.
r />   He murmured, “Better?”

  “Some.”

  “Just so you know, I left my running shoes at home.”

  I almost burst into tears. He couldn’t have said anything more reassuring. I had to look away to compose myself. But I felt him watching me. Waiting for something. For what? I’d just given him my deepest, darkest secret. “Quit staring at me like you’re still trying to figure me out.”

  “I wasn’t trying to figure you out. I was waiting for this, for you to reveal yourself to me—as corny as that sounds. And I’m sort of stunned that you’ve actually started to open up.”

  “It doesn’t sound corny. But I wasn’t sure if you were patient enough to stick around for the big reveal.”

  He widened his stance as if bracing himself. “So hit me with it. I’m ready.”

  Confused, I gaped at him. “You assume I have more fainting goat behavior to explain?”

  “Fainting goat?” he repeated. “You’d better explain that.”

  I sighed. “You know those goats that get scared and their response is to faint? Then they come to a minute or two later and they’re like, Whoa, what the hell happened? And then they’re back to normal, ready to eat a tin can? That’s me.”

  Walker blinked at me. “You’re a fainting goat, huh?”

  “Yep. Sexy isn’t it? Makes you wanna getcha some of this”—I ran my hand down the outside of my body—“baaaad, doesn’t it?”

  He laughed. “You make me laugh like no one I’ve ever met.”

  “You’re not laughing at me, which is good. And that means you’re okay knowing this about me?”

  “That was your big reveal? That your brain goes off-line when you’re stressed or nervous and your mouth picks up the slack?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “You thought I couldn’t deal with it?”

  “It is weird,” I said defensively. “I’m a thirty-one-year-old woman, so it’s not something I’ll outgrow. This is—”

  He put his fingers over my mouth. “You thought I’d give up on you, didn’t you?”

  “I didn’t know. I’ve never had a guy stick around past this point.”

  “What point is that?”

  “The point when they decide I’m too much work.”

  “I knew going into this that you’d be work. It didn’t scare me off then. It doesn’t scare me off now.”