Beautiful Bridges (Bridges Brothers Book 3)

by Lia Fairchild

  “Something like that. She’s young, man…”

  “As long as she’s eighteen, I don’t care.”

  “Look, Brick…”

  “It’s Brock, asshole.”

  “Whatever.” With my brows furrowed, I take a step back from his mouth breathing. “Next time, try not acting like a cave man if you want a woman to be interested.” I start to turn when Brock grabs me by my coat sleeve.

  “You think you’re fucking funny?”

  I glance down to his hand on me, my blood surging once again. “Yeah, but it’s not my best skill, so you better take your damn hands off me before I show you some others.” I’ll admit, part of that is me bluffing. Yeah, I played football and I’ve been in fights before, but honestly, I avoid them. There was time during high school football I got a lot of crap for running my ass out of bounds to avoid being hit. My brother Logan taught me how to take a hit, but more than that, he taught me that some things are worth getting your face fucked up for and some people won’t back down until you make them.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well I think pretty boy is bluffing. And since you’ve already ruined my evening, I’m afraid I’m going to have to mess up that face.”

  “That doesn’t sound too fun,” I say, keeping eye contact. “Just walk away, man.”

  “Not a chance.” The brick wall before me still has part of my coat in one hand and a drink in the other so I at least have that working for me. When he doesn’t back off, I put all my weight on his foot and push him. He goes stumbling back, and I flinch as he falls against some people, causing one of them to splash their drink on him, and his own drink crashes to the floor. Shit.

  Fire burns in his eyes as he struggles with his footing. When he’s ready to charge back at me, I use his anger and size against him again. Grabbing his wrist with one hand and his neck with the other, I pull his giant ass toward me, moving my upper body to the side and lifting my knee right into his gut, then release him. He doubles over, coughing and swearing.

  I take a few steps back and stand there, staring at him, trying to decide if I should walk away or offer him a hand. Though the music is still cranking, a small crowd has gathered.

  Hands on knees, Bock finally lifts his head, nostrils flaring. Slowly he straightens, clearly not done with me. I shake my head. “Really?”

  But before he can take a step toward me, I see Kaylee, Koko, and three security personnel push through the crowd. The security team surrounds Brock and tries to calm him. I can’t hear anything they are saying, but he head-gestures to me. The two male guards escort Brock out while the female comes over to talk with Kaylee, Koko, and me.

  She basically tells us it was more for show and formality, since Brock said I started the fight. But between what Koko told them and what others saw, we were allowed to stay. Though, Koko excused herself to her room, having had enough excitement for one night.

  Kaylee and I stand there, staring at each other, wide-eyed, for a few beats before we both bust into laughter. Then she smacks me on the chest. “What are you doing here!”

  “Um, you’re welcome.”

  She rolls her eyes and turns her gaze to the crowd for a moment, as if she is internally pondering what she would have done if I wasn’t here. “I could have handled it, you know.”

  It is now that I finally take her in. With all the excitement, and so focused on her worried expression, I didn’t fully appreciate what she was wearing. She might not have felt like a model when she was one, but her look tonight is nothing short of exquisite, and yet it looks natural, like she put in little effort. The pearlescent gray dress she’s wearing goes to the floor but the material from mid-thigh down is sheer. The top part is sleeveless, cutting low so her full breasts peak out just enough, and the whole thing has patches of lace over it.

  When I’m done gawking, I step toward her, one corner of my mouth quirking up before I can stop it. “Sure you could have, Kay.”

  She pushes me away, brows knitted, and I can’t tell if she’s playing or I really pissed her off.

  “Well maybe if you hadn’t have been getting your own flirt on you’d have noticed that—”

  “Flirt? What are you talking about?” She folds her arms and now I know she really is annoyed with me. “I’m here working, Justice.”

  I laugh. “Oh, is that what they call it?”

  “Stop. I’m serious.”

  “Well, who was that dude you were all smiley with?”

  Finally her face softens, she tries to hold back a grin by biting the side of her bottom lip.

  Fuck me. I gape at it a second before I realize my mistake. The tables just turned.

  “I see now,” she says with a satisfied tone.

  “No.”

  “Yes. You’re jealous.”

  “So what if I am?” My damn traitorous face flushes, and I turn away this time. I’ve never been jealous in my life. Never cared about anyone enough to be jealous. Kaylee and I aren’t even dating, but when I saw her next to that guy, him making her laugh, it was like I couldn’t breathe. Even now, thinking about it, my chest tightens. I don’t get it. Unless it’s because I don’t have Kaylee. And because I don’t, she could find someone else. My pity party comes to an abrupt halt when I feel her hand slip into mine. I turn my head, heart racing when my eyes lock on those gorgeous hazel irises.

  “Dance with me, Justice.”

  I don’t know what just happened, but I’ll take it. I lead her to a space on the dance floor and slip my arms around her waist. The song is not a slow-dancing song, but it’s not so fast we look ridiculous. Not that either of us seem to care in this moment. She wraps her arms around my neck like we’re at the prom, and I pull her closer. I’m holding Kaylee Sumner.

  We stare into each other’s eyes for half the song before either of us speaks. There is plenty of communication going on, though. Finally, I say, “So are you going to tell me who that was?”

  “Who?” She grins, and I know she’s just jacking with me.

  I run my hands up to her shoulder blades and yank her body against mine and she gasps. “You didn’t recognize him?” she says.

  “Should I have?”

  “Yeah, that was Dominic Acosta.”

  “Sounds familiar.”

  “He’s a designer. I’m interviewing him for one of the pieces I’m doing.”

  “Oh…” That doesn’t mean he wasn’t putting the moves on her. It also doesn’t mean she wasn’t flirting back, but I can’t say that to her because she’ll just throw it back in my face; she’s seen me do it enough times. “Cool,” I say like an idiot.

  She gives me a head tilt as if it’s no big deal. “I answered your question now what about mine?”

  The crowd around us is growing, and suddenly, we don’t have much breathing room. I take advantage of it and pull her even closer, putting us cheek to cheek as we barely move to the music. The subtle floral scent of her skin mixes with whatever fruity product she put in her hair, making me high. “I missed you,” I say simply with my mouth to her ear.

  Nothing. No response.

  I didn’t expect her to say it back but, damn, it would have been nice. “Kaylee?”

  “Yeah?”

  I pull back slightly so I can look at her face. “You wanted to know…”

  “So you’re saying you came all the way to New York because you missed me?” Her tone is skeptical if not a bit sarcastic, but her eyes say something much different.

  Since her mouth needs convincing, I press forward and brush her lips with mine. “That’s exactly what I’m saying,” I say against her parted lips.

  I can feel her deep breaths, her chest expanding her body as I hold it. “Justice… What are we doing?”

  I grin and see her eyes flick down to my mouth before popping back to my gaze. She might need reassurance, but I honestly don’t know the answer. So I tell her what I do know. “I don’t know about you, Kay, but I think what I’m doing is falling for you.” I
kiss her again, this time deeper, slipping my tongue inside her mouth, pressing her pliable body to mine. Maybe she’s not falling the way I am, but there’s no doubt her body is melting against mine, her mouth is eager for mine, her arms hold my body tighter and when I feel the vibration in her chest from the moan she let escape, I know she wants me just as badly as I want her.

  I’m about to ask if she wants to get out of here, but I can’t play it that way. I told Kaylee she’s different, and I meant it. I barely get to finish my thought, my lips still moving against Kaylee’s when I feel a tap on my shoulder.

  Reluctantly, I pull back and for a brief second, I hope it’s not the brick wall coming back for round two—it’s not but it’s worse.

  Kaylee narrows her gaze as it points over my shoulder. “Elise?”

  Crap.

  I release Kaylee and turn, a boulder quickly growing at the bottom of my gut.

  “Hey, honey,” Elise says to Kaylee and nods as if she’s checking in for the night shift. “I need to borrow Justice”—she swivels her head to me—”because apparently he forgot how to answer his phone.”

  Oh, yeah, genius idea, Bridges. I look to Elise first. “What is it?” I pull my cell from my pocket, not to see her multiple missed calls and texts, but to check the time. “Is this really necessary?”

  She sighs and throws her head back dramatically. “Yes, I need to speak with you…now.”

  I turn to Kaylee to apologize, sure she’s probably wondering what the hell’s going on. But before I can say a word she holds up her hand. “You know what? It’s totally fine. I should probably check on Koko, anyway.” She stares at Elise a beat and nods. “Elise.” Then she walks away, without even a backward glance.

  I jog to catch up to her, my heart hammering against the wall of my chest. “Kaylee, wait.” I take hold of her arm and she stops and turns.

  “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing here, Justice. I should have known. You—”

  “No, please. I’m not.” My voice sounds pathetic, but I don’t care.

  She plants a hand on her hip. “Okay, fine. So tell me you’re not here in New York with Elise?”

  Aww, shit. If there’s one thing I can’t do, it’s lie to Kaylee. I lock eyes with her, knowing a simple answer won’t work. “Can you please just wait for me. I want to explain.”

  She pulls her arms from my grasp. “I’m good. No explanation needed.” She shakes her head. “I have to go.”

  And like an idiot, I just stand there and watch her walk away.

  Chapter 11

  Justice

  Some might say I’m a glutton for punishment as I crash yet another Fashion Week party. Well, not exactly crash since Archie did me a favor and made sure my name was on the list of this party thrown by The Sumner Group in one of the penthouse suites of the hotel. This one is for The Sumner Group models to celebrate a fantastic show and for anyone associated with the agency. I know Archie’s not Kaylee’s favorite person so she can add me calling him to the list of reasons she hates me. Again

  I know I’m not good enough for Kaylee…but who says I can’t get there? I blew it last night—big time. The worse part was not the disappointment in her eyes. I expected that. It was the pain I felt in my chest, knowing I hurt her. I’ve never experienced a pain like that before. I was young when my mother died, only sixteen, and the sadness was unbearable. This is something altogether different. Somehow, I feel responsible for Kaylee’s every emotion. Like it’s my job to make her happy, protect her from pain… I know that sounds ridiculous when we’re not even together.

  I scan the room as I enter. Of course, I see lots of people I know. It hasn’t been that long since I left, and though modeling is a quick turnover industry, there’s familiar faces of those I worked with, partied with, and even trained as part of my new client list.

  I see Gretchen in the back corner, holding a drink, and talking with two models. An older gentleman stands with them. It makes me chuckle. He’s dressed the part, halfway between business and casual, sans jacket, shirt sleeves rolled half-way up, but when your eyes are constantly pointed below the chin of every female, you blew your game, buddy.

  I turn and head in a different direction in case Kaylee talked to Gretchen about me. There’s a huge terraced balcony in front of me so I head that way, hoping it will be a good vantage point to wait for Kaylee.

  “Justice Bridges, oh my God!” Trista says, cutting in front of me.

  Of all the people… Trista’s a vet at the agency and in the industry. Your standard, tall, blonde, and bitchy. I know Kaylee hated that Trista always told her what to do and how to do it. And whenever anyone questions her, she pulls out her byline, “I’ve been in this industry since I was thirteen.”

  “Hey, Trista.” I stop and put my hands in my pockets, scrambling for an excuse to move on.

  “So good to see you.” She eyes me from top to bottom and licks her lips. I pull my cell from my pocket when it vibrates, but she continues. “And I’m so excited to work with you again.”

  I glance and see a text from Turner, but Trista’s words distract me. “I’m sorry? Work together?”

  “The fundraiser.” She taps me on the arm playfully, and I have to force a smile because I’d almost forgotten about having to do the show.

  “Gretchen asked you?”

  “Well yeah, of course. I have been in this industry since I was thirteen.”

  Now that almost made me smile. Trista sort of aged out of runway so this chance to revisit it seems to make her happy. I don’t need to ruin that. “Awesome. Thanks for stepping up for the kids,” I say and then glance to my phone. “Good seeing you too, Trista, but I need to make a call.”

  “Oh,” she says with a narrowed gaze. Though I feel a little bad, I step past her and exit to the balcony.

  I pull up the text from T.

  Turner: What are you doing right now?

  Me: I’m at The Sumner Group party, looking for Kaylee, why?

  I felt bad leaving him behind when he and Curtis were just starting to get close, but I pretty much had no choice. Plus, if he came here with Curtis that’s a whole different level of relationship, in my eyes. I don’t know if they’re ready for that.

  Turner: I was just thinking you should have worn that emerald green shirt of mine you love so much.

  I have no idea why Turner is choosing to talk randomly about clothes right now. Maybe he’s lonely or something, but I don’t have time to screw around.

  Me: Can I text or call you later tonight?

  Turner: I guess. But that green shirt would have looked better than that drab dark gray you’re wearing.

  I glance down at my shirt because I honestly don’t remember what I chose. What the hell? I spin around and find Turner standing at the entrance to the terrace.

  “Dude, what the hell are you doing here?”

  “Thanks, bro,” he says, stepping forward. “I’m happy I’m here too.”

  I close the distance between us, smile, and give him a half hug. “Shit, of course I’m happy to see you. But…what happened? I thought you and Curtis agreed to take it slow, that you’d connect when he got back.”

  “Yeah, well, he…said he missed me.” Turner fights his smile, and I don’t know whether to be happy or apprehensive.

  “Isn’t that all kinds of adorbs,” I say sarcastically.

  “Actually, it is,” Turner says, growing serious. “I know you’re worried and it’s cool. Seriously, I really appreciate it.”

  “But…”

  “But I know what I’m doing.”

  “Do you really? This is all new to you, right?”

  Turner slaps a hand on my shoulder like my brothers do when they’re about to impart some advice. “J man, I’ve dated before, remember?”

  “Yeah, but that was—”

  “People are people…”

  “Isn’t that an eighties song?”

  “Yeah, but it’s true. We all have a heart and a brain, and no one k
nows what the hell they’re doing anyway.”

  I shake my head, flabbergasted that I didn’t realize the pod people left one under Turner’s bed last night. “Who are you, man?”

  He gives me a half grin. “I swear to fuck I don’t know. But I’m going with it. Curtis makes me happy and—”

  “Damn, my ears are burning.” The voice comes from just inside.

  Turner and I both look that way to find Curtis, in black dress pants, bare-footed, his teal shirt only half-way buttoned.

  He strolls over, gives me a handshake and side hug, and then locks eyes with Turner like he’s a tall glass of water and Curtis has been wandering the desert. “That’s not the only thing burning,” he says against Turner’s ear, but I still hear him.

  Just great. These two can’t keep away from each other, and I have to hunt Kaylee down.

  “Oh, she’s in the back room,” Curtis says.

  “Wait. Did I say that out loud? Shit, sorry. No offense.”

  “Hey, none taken.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Turner says.

  Curtis places a hand on Turner’s waist. “We need to cut him some slack. This boy don’t know what he’s doing.”

  They’re talking about me, but they’re staring into each other’s eyes. I’m just done. “Just point me in the right direction, and I’ll give you guys some privacy.”

  Finally, Curtis turns to me, a serious expression on his face. “Before you go back there…you should know she’s been partying pretty hard. That girl’s slammed. And she’s back there with a couple of guys—”

  “What the hell, man?” I narrow my eyes at him and for the first time, I question the man he is. This is so not like Curtis. “You left her alone with some random guys when she’s drunk?”

  Curtis straightens his spine and his eyes widen. “Cool it, bro. You know Curtis don’t play it like that.” He grips my shoulder tighter than I’m comfortable with and guides me a few steps to the entry of the suite. “You see that home boy right there leaning against the wall?”

  “Yeah…so?”

  “So, he’s my boy. He’s watching her and he knows if anything gets out of hand to either A—beat some ass or B—come get me so I can beat some ass.” He turns to me and smiles.