by Lainey Davis
She’s sparring with me, and I am shocked to discover I like it. A lot. I don’t spend a lot of time with women, apart from my cousin. There aren’t a ton of women in geotechnical engineering, and I spend all my free time trail running.
The women I do encounter aren’t like this one. She…sizzles.
I’m not sure what comes over me, but I nudge her with my elbow. I’m never playful with women. I’m not even interested in being playful with this woman. Am I? But then she turns and smiles, a real smile. I feel my heart change course, which makes me feel ridiculous. Is it possible to have a stroke in response to a beautiful woman smiling? I speed up a bit to course correct, just to see if she can keep up. “Still able to talk?”
“Fuck. This. Shit,” she huffs, her breath coming out in white puffs of condensation. “Happy?”
I grin. I am happy. She might be complaining about a January run—who wouldn’t? But she’s not quitting. She’s not slowing. She’s just grouchy about it.
I hear her breath coming a little faster, but we’re a mile in at this point. “We’re almost at the turn around,” I say, and sure enough, we start to see runners headed back from their training loop. “Oh shit,” I mutter, noticing my brothers.
“Hey now!” Cal says, stopping on the path and causing Liam to crash into him.
Orla runs on ahead like she doesn’t know any of us, my dad hot on her tail. “Don’t fall behind, Cal. You know better than this,” Dad says.
“Who’s your new training buddy?” Cal pivots on the path and starts running next to Nicole, who is starting to sweat. I try not to stare at the sheen on her upper lip, despite the frigid air outside. She is probably wearing too many layers. Shit, now I’m thinking about peeling her out of her layers. I can’t stop picturing her round ass and thick thighs melting out of those leggings. I start wondering how heavy her breasts would feel in my hands when I zipped her out of her fleece.
“Nicole Kennedy,” she says, offering a hand to Cal. It’s good to hear she can still talk. “Reluctant relay runner in training.”
“Well we’ve got that in common,” Cal says, falling into step beside her. I can see him turning up the charm and while the logical response would be for me to embrace this, take the attention from myself, I can feel rage simmering in my stomach at the thought of Cal putting the moves on Nicole.
“You don’t seem too reluctant, considering you’re running extra along with us,” Nicole says. Interesting how her voice is softer with him. Friendly. I don’t like that, either.
“My brothers would rather be training for the full marathon, but our father makes us do the relay corporate challenge.” I shove him when he tries to swerve in closer to Nicole.
“Don’t act like you wouldn’t rather do the full, too, man.” He shoves me back and I stumble. I reach a hand for Nicole to steady myself before I face plant on the trail, and I gasp at the electric current I feel when my skin connects with her waist.
I feel a seismic tremor roll through my body as she turns around to look at me. I’m in serious trouble.
CHAPTER THREE
Nicole
I’M DYING. I feel like my lungs are burning. I’ll be damned if I let the Brady brothers notice, though. Of course my broody, sexy-as-sin new running partner would have a huge family. Of course they’re all lithe and interested in running. They probably go jogging with my boss Tim and his brothers.
I noticed Isaac speed up a half mile ago and I’m working my ovaries off trying to keep the new pace and pretend like I’m actually able to talk. Really, I am desperate to wheeze, to gasp in gulps of air. But Isaac said I should be comfortable enough to talk at this pace, and I’ll be damned if I let myself seem like a weak link. Who decided people should converse while they’re running? This feels like torture. Of course these two Brady boys are able to chitchat.
My mind drifts and I start thinking about Isaac’s thighs in those tapered running pants. I fantasize about poking his long muscles. Just jabbing one of my cold fingers into the side of his leg. God, I bet they’re firm as marble. Halfway done with this run, I think as we turn around and head back the way we came. This won’t be terrible. Will it? Just focus on the thighs, I tell myself.
“Whoah,” I feel a hand on my hip and I look down to see the sweaty paw of Isaac Brady clutching at my fleece as he stumbles on the gravel.
“Sorry,” he mutters quickly, regaining his footing. “My dickhead brother shoved me into you.”
“My bad, Nicky.” Cal runs ahead of us and turns around, jogging backwards and giving a high five to the passing group leader with the megaphone.
“Do not call me Nicky,” I tell Cal, gritting my teeth so I don’t wheeze. I can’t wait to at least cough so I can draw enough wind to keep going.
“My bad again,” Cal says, and then he looks between me and Isaac, and back again. He seems confused for a second and he says, “Well, I’m going to hurry ahead before all the free bagels are gone,” and he dashes down the path.
“What was all that about?” I have to focus all my oxygen to make the sentence sound normal. I cannot let him know I’m struggling. I refuse.
“All what?”
I turn my head to stare at Isaac, incredulous. “Your brother just scurried away when I yelled at him about calling me Nicky.”
Isaac actually laughs at this, and I feel my insides respond to the low rumble of sound he makes as he runs. “Maybe he doesn’t like to be yelled at.”
I snort. “He’d better not spend time with me, then. I yell at everyone.”
“Noted,” Isaac says, and he grins again. I like that I made him grin. It seems like something difficult to do, and I like being good at things. Which is partly why this running situation is making me act like such an asshole. I’m way out of my element here. Hell, I can’t even breathe.
We run in silence for a bit after that. The bagels at the parking lot are sounding better and better. Isaac’s shoe crunches over some litter on the trail, and I brave a proper wheeze and puff of wind as the sound of him kicking the plastic away masks the noises of me dying. But it doesn’t work.
“Is this pace too fast?”
“I’m fine.” It takes all my control again to keep my voice even, natural sounding. Maybe the flames I feel inside aren’t related to my attraction to him at all. More likely, I’m dying of asphyxiation. Oxygen deprivation. I’ll have to ask Emma to look up whether that’s a real thing.
“Hey, why don’t you unzip your pullover a little, or even lose a layer.” His voice sounds a little far off, even though I can see that he’s right by my side. Isn’t he?
“You’re not getting me out of my clothes that easy,” I spit out. And then, to my horror, I get dizzy and I think I black out for a second, because the next thing I know I’m tumbling into the hedge along the path.
When I open my eyes, I realize my body is being cradled by something warm and firm. I’m disoriented, but comfortable.
Mmm, maybe it’s one of those massage chairs I’ve been telling Mark to install in my office. This is fantastic. So warm, gently moving.
Fuck. I open my eyes all the way and stare into the concerned face of Isaac Brady. “What happened,” I ask, struggling to sit up.
“Hey, easy,” he says, setting a hand on my shoulder. “You just passed out.”
I wriggle away from his touch before his heat burns through to my bones. My heart is pounding in my ears and my chest is heaving. I guess the jig is up, and I feel myself recoiling at the idea that he’s seen me in a weak spot. What the hell is he doing to me? I should know better than to let someone else take up rent-free space in my head. There is no reason I should care about this guy at all. “It’s fine,” I tell him. “I am just not used to running like this, like I said.”
“You were pushing yourself too hard. It’s too cold to be doing that—”
I cut him off by wheezing and hacking like my lungs are on fire. Seriously, it feels like knives are slicing through my chest. “It’s called kilo cough,” Isaa
c says, resting a hand on my back. “You pushed yourself too hard, like I said.” I don’t have enough air to yell at him for spitting my words back at me.
“My lungs hurt worse than my legs,” I wail in between bouts of painful coughs.
He just nods and helps me to my feet. “You put in what? Two miles of max effort just to prove to me that you didn’t need to breathe hard or slow down?” He raises an eyebrow and looks smug.
Who the fuck is this guy? I want to punch him in the dick, but thinking that causes me to look down at said body part and seeing the bulge inside his track pants makes me lick my lips in between coughs.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I tell him. “I’m only pushing myself because my boss is expecting our team to beat your fucking firm in the marathon.”
This gets a laugh out of him. “Stag Law wants to beat Beltane? That’ll be the day.” He hooks a hand under my upper arm and guides me down the path. We’re close enough to the parking lot now that I can see one of his siblings running along toward us. Is it the same one as before? I can’t tell them apart when I’m hacking up a lung. Meanwhile, Isaac starts to list the different endurance events he and his family participate in as a group. All the -thons, apparently.
“You all right there, Ms. Kennedy?” The same brother as before holds out a cup of water and I snatch it from him greedily. As I slurp down the icy liquid he laughs and says, “See? I learn from my mistakes and I come bearing peace offerings. What happened?”
I open my mouth to tell him I’m dying from this ridiculous training exercise, but Isaac growls, “She’s fine. We’re good here, Cal.”
I look at Issac. This is interesting. Isaac clearly doesn’t want his brother hanging around us.
However, “Don’t speak for me, Isaac. Don’t ever speak for me.” I turn to face Cal again. “I’m great. Never been better. You said there were bagels?”
CHAPTER FOUR
Zack
TRANQUIL TRAIL MONDAY. 6am! I check the text from my brother Liam before my fingers freeze and I can’t use my phone anymore. I’m in the right place at the right time. My jagoff brothers are just fucking late. I should have known they’d do this. It’s not even light out yet and I feel like an asshole with my headlamp on for our morning run.
I’m about to get back in my truck and head home when I hear them rolling up. My shoulders relax a bit when I see the two men crammed inside Cal’s ancient vehicle. We’re all here, I guess. I work to stuff down the twinge of jealousy I always feel when I’m reminded how close they are. We have different mothers, but Cal and Liam would never suggest I was any less their brother.
It’s all my own head that twists my thoughts.
“Let’s go, before my balls snap off.” Liam springs from the car and takes off down the trailhead without waiting for the rest of us. He’s dreaming if he thinks we won’t catch him. This isn’t like yesterday—that was equal parts full family activity and work requirement.
We all work for my dad and my uncle—two brothers who started an engineering firm over 30 years ago when nobody else was really doing that.
None of us particularly liked running at first, but just like studying engineering in college, we weren’t given a choice about it. In our father’s house, we run five miles a day at minimum, and we bleed, sweat, and dream engineering principles. It’s just part of our DNA. Not sure where Orla puts her miles in. She never comes running with us, but she clocks decent times in the races we run, whether she likes it or not.
Uncle Kellen doesn’t compete. He says his leisurely run into work each morning is enough for him. I wish I had the nerve to buck against the family expectations like that. Maybe someday if I’ve lived through what Uncle Kellen has, I’ll let go of all my fucks, too.
Liam’s pace is too slow, even given the steep trail as we descend down into Frick Park. When I shoulder past him and he growls, I grin. At least we can keep it interesting if we’re going to push each other.
Soon the three of us are jostling for the lead on the narrow path, laughing and shoving each other as we run through the park. It’s hard not to feel like a little kid, running with my brothers in the woods. Damn, I’m glad we did this after all, even if I did have to get up before dawn.
It’s not yet 7 by the time we finish, so we end up waiting a few minutes outside for the Frick Cafe to open. Another tradition, we always grab breakfast here after our park runs.
Like some sort of unspoken competition, none of us wants to be the first to complain about the cold, so we alternate grunts. I see the wait staff through the painted windows and raise my eyebrows at one of our favorite servers. She takes pity on us and opens the door a few minutes early, nodding her head toward our typical booth in the back.
“Bring on the protein special, Em. You know the drill,” Cal says, sending a wink, earning himself an elbow to the ribs from Liam. “Eventually she’ll come home with me for a shower,” Cal says, sliding into his seat and spreading across the entire bench.
I kick his thigh to make room and slide next to him. Crossing my arms, I take a minute to appreciate the warmth in the cafe. Liam’s voice pulls me out of my daze.
“Did Uncle Kellen decide about the dam project yet?” The server brings out steaming plates of turkey sausage and eggs and protein pancakes, but Liam holds my gaze until I answer him.
“He didn’t. Wants to think about it another week.” Beltane Engineering is bidding on a major dam restoration project, and the sudden retirement of our geotechnical team leader has left me scrambling to prove myself ready to fill his shoes.
When Kenny Hudson collapsed on the job from a heart attack, my dad responded typically: he visited Kenny at the hospital, insisted he retire and enjoy his dotage, and then called each of his sons to lecture us about our health. Again, not sure if Orla got a lecture. She keeps to herself.
You’d think being the boss’s son with an engineering degree from MIT would give me an edge for a promotion, but if you thought that, you never spent much time with Mick and Kellen Brady. Two brothers—the yin to the other’s yang—they never seem to agree on anything except that nothing their kids do is ever quite good enough.
My uncle won’t say so, but he’s pitting me against the new guy from Texas and waiting to see which of us can solve another client’s sinkhole problem first before assigning us the lead role on the dam.
“No pressure, right Zack?” Cal talks with his mouth full and nudges Liam, waiting for him to laugh. “Get it? Pressure? Geotechnical? Nobody?”
I roll my eyes. “Yes, I get it.”
“Want to run the sinkhole plan by us, see if anything sticks?” Liam always wants to collaborate, even though as a structural engineer he doesn’t have much overlap in my work. I start to map out my idea to him, talking about back filling the space under our client’s access road, maybe utilizing a plastic bubble technique to displace some of the shifting that’s been causing sinkholes at a manufacturing site outside the city. “We’d replace some of the dirt fill with these plastic bubbles. The sphere shape makes them very structurally sound,” I tell him, and he nods.
“We use those in concrete flooring sometimes for less weight at the same strength,” he says.
By the time we leave breakfast, I’m actually feeling ready to present at our meeting later today. “Hey, thanks, brother.” Liam nods. “See you all at the office?” The two of them live in an industrial loft space our dad picked up on a whim. It’s like a college dorm at their place, complete with nosy landlord, but what I lack in companionship at my house, I make up for in calling all my own shots. Cal flips me off as they pile back in his SUV and head home, most likely to wrestle for who gets first shower.
I’m the first Brady to arrive at the office, and I take advantage of the quiet to organize my plans. By the time my uncle rolls in with Texas Ted at his side, I’m feeling confident. I even allow myself a slight smile when our office admin announces it’s time for all the civil engineers to gather for the weekly planning meeting. As soon as we set
tle this sinkhole issue, our top priority at Beltane Engineering will be to make headway on winning this dam project.
I can smell the opportunity when I see that someone from the sales team is joining us this morning. Uncle Kellen wouldn’t call them in if it weren’t time to coordinate our pitch. I’m grateful I got an opportunity to talk through the pitch with Liam this morning. Everything feels fresh. From here on out, I plan to be neck deep in soil calculations and talus slopes.
I grit my teeth when my dad sticks his head into the meeting. “Zack, good. You’re here.”
“I’ve been here for an hour, Dad.”
He ignores my snide comment. “Kellen, I need to borrow my kid for a minute.” My uncle nods and gestures for me to hand him my notes on the sinkholes. I feel my guts collapsing in on themselves like the soil beneath our client’s dump trucks. My blood runs cold as I realize my father is pulling me away from my opportunity to advance at this company, in this career he insisted I pursue. White hot rage nearly blinds me as I follow him into the elevator.
“Can you push 6 for me, kiddo? We’re going up into my office.” I don’t say a word, don’t tell him to push his own fucking elevator button instead of clutching his Yerba mate with two hands. Slowly, deliberately, I extend a finger and jab as the doors slide shut, along with everything I’ve planned for the past year.
CHAPTER FIVE
Nicole
MORNINGS ARE MY favorite time of day. I don’t spend much time at my house these days, but when I am there, I like to be out on my sun porch with a cup of hot coffee. I chose this house because the gently sloping backyard looks out on the Allegheny River. I’m close enough to walk to work downtown--not that I ever would do such a thing in heels--and I live close to anything I would want to buy, if I were the sort of person who regularly went shopping in real life.
My sunroom is divine, no matter who’s asking. And the fact that I rebuilt it myself makes it even better. Everything I see around me is mine, down to the studs. I remodeled this place one inch at a time over the years since I bought it.
