The Closer He Gets

by Janice Kay Johnson

  “I guess I did, too.”

  Zach lifted an eyebrow. “You going to relent where Mom is concerned?”

  “You mean, agree to see her?” Bran grimaced. “Probably. I guess seeing her won’t kill me. Just so you know, it’ll be more for your sake than hers, though. Might make your wedding awkward otherwise.”

  Zach felt a squeeze of pleasure and, yeah, a jolt of panic, too. Marriage? Was he really going there?

  Yeah.

  “You’re the one with an upcoming ceremony,” he pointed out.

  If Bran had any doubts, he didn’t share them. “You’re right. You’ll have to get in line.”

  “Not like I’ve asked Tess to marry me.”

  “But you will, won’t you?”

  She was his everything. Of course he would be.

  “Probably.” Who was he kidding?

  Bran nodded.

  “I need to get upstairs.” Zach pushed back his chair and grabbed the lunch tray.

  He stopped when his brother said, “I’ve been thinking...” It sounded awkward enough to make Zach curious.

  When Bran stalled, Zach prodded. “You’ve been thinking...?”

  “Yeah. Uh, speaking of weddings... Would you consider being my best man?”

  Floored, he said, “You have some good friends.”

  Bran smiled crookedly. “But only one brother.”

  “Yeah.” Zach had to clear his throat. “It would be an honor.”

  “Good. Thanks.”

  They bussed their trays, everything important already said, and parted in front of the elevators.

  * * *

  THE DAMAGE TO Tess’s house had been primarily confined to the one corner, but was still substantial. The fire had reached the hall and the bathroom and leaped up through the ceiling before firefighters had put it out. The stench permeated the entire house.

  Her wardrobe was history, she discovered almost immediately. Without thinking, she had asked Zach to grab her some clothes to wear home. He’d said, “Yeah, about that...”

  Tess called a woman friend, who’d gone shopping for the basics for her.

  Zach and she opened windows to start airing her house out and discussed whether he would do the work on it. But she decided not as that would prevent him working on his own house. Her insurance would cover the cost of bringing in a contractor.

  Plus...somewhere in that discussion, they’d decided she would move in with him once he had working plumbing, instead of the other way around. Neither had said, “This house will go on the market.” They hadn’t needed to.

  On the positive side, she had plenty of furniture to fill his empty rooms, even with some having been destroyed by fire or damaged by the smoke.

  In the meantime, they would be staying at her father’s—in separate bedrooms.

  Tess hated not being able to sleep with Zach, but knew it might be just as well. She had a headache that wouldn’t quit. Sex wasn’t happening. Neither, for her, did work. Greg had someone they’d used before to fill in for Tess at Fabulous Interiors.

  Putting in long hours every evening, Zach wasn’t at her father’s much. Having his bathroom back together had become a high priority for him.

  On the Sunday after the attack, Tess decided she felt well enough to make the trip to his place.

  She admired the dishwasher he’d installed and the work he had accomplished in the bathroom. She knew the bathtub surrounding could wait, but that he couldn’t set the sink in place until the tile was finished on the countertop. She offered to start the tiling.

  “I like this,” she said, stroking the vanity. It was solid maple finished in a simple, Shaker style. “White walls, though? Really?”

  “It’s primer.” He defended himself. Of course, she already knew that. “You can pick the color, within reason.”

  She was laying out tiles when a knock came on their front door. Zach went to answer it. While he was gone, she began marking tiles she’d cut to allow for the sink to be inset.

  She could tell from the voices that their visitor was male. When Zach returned, he had his brother with him.

  Bran nodded in greeting. “You’re looking better.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “You mean less like a zombie?”

  He laughed because...well, yes, the swelling and discoloration had made her face so ghoulish, she’d have frightened kids if she’d dared go out in public. “The yellow is an improvement over purple.”

  Even Zach smiled. So far, he hadn’t displayed much of a sense of humor where her injuries were concerned. She’d had a little trouble laughing, too.

  “Just wanted to tell you both that Tyler rolled on his brother’s best bud. Stokes fired Doug Gundry today.”

  Tess didn’t remember ever hearing the name before, but she could see that Zach knew it.

  “I’ve barely met him. We’re not on the same shift.” He shook his head. “He didn’t know me at all.”

  “He claims he didn’t have anything to do with the dead rabbit, only put the flyer in your box because Andy asked him to. He denies being part of the threats or hammering your pickup, but Stokes says he’s lying. Easley and the SIU guys will be talking to him. Losing his job may be the least of his troubles.”

  “So...it’s over.” Tess was having a little trouble believing that.

  “Except for testifying in three or four trials,” Bran said.

  “Three or four...?” Why hadn’t that occurred to her? “Oh, no.”

  “Oh, yes.” Zach wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “You’ll be a star.”

  At her look of horror, both men laughed.

  “I’m here to work,” Bran said. “What can I do?”

  He might not have seen the pleasure Zach tried to hide, but Tess did.

  “I thought I’d replace the rest of the windows today. You game?”

  “I am.” With another nod at Tess, Bran retreated from the bathroom.

  Zach kissed her. Lightly. But it didn’t stay that way. Desire flared and his arms came around her hard. He nipped her lip and she parted her lips for him. Suddenly they were straining together, Tess’s arms locked around his neck, her breasts aching for his touch.

  He eased his mouth from hers and groaned. “Damn, Tess.”

  She gave a tiny whimper of protest.

  Zach rubbed his cheek against hers. “We can move in tomorrow night.”

  “We do have a bed here.”

  Zach groaned again. “We do. Want me to get rid of Bran?”

  A giggle bubbled out. “Once you’ve gotten all the work out of him you can.”

  “You’re right. I’m really looking forward to this place looking like a home.”

  Her small, secret fear gave a twinge. “Is that how you think of it?”

  His eyes were as blue as the heart of a flame. “You’re my home,” he said gruffly. “But...yeah.” He finally tore his gaze from hers to look around. “For now.”

  “For now?”

  He shrugged. “We might want a bigger house someday. Once we have kids.”

  Just like that, he’d told her everything she needed to know. Her heart settled. Humming with contentment, she teased, “Getting ahead of yourself there, guy.”

  He met her eyes again. “Am I?”

  Seeing that he wasn’t any surer about her than she’d been about him, she rose on tiptoe to press her lips to his. “No,” she murmured. “We’ll definitely have kids.”

  “Deal,” he said, his shoulders relaxing. He kissed her again quickly then backed away. “Better get to work, if we want to move in anytime soon.”

  Tess smiled as she returned to marking tiles. She was really glad he’d chosen ones she liked so much. It was a good omen.

  * * * * *

  B
ook two of the miniseries

  BROTHERS, KEEPERS,

  Bran Murphy’s story,

  THE BABY HE WANTED,

  is available wherever

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  The Big Break

  by Cara Lockwood

  CHAPTER ONE

  JUN LEE TRIED to steady her nerves as she walked up to the front door of Kai Brady’s luxury beachside villa on the west coast of the Big Island. Bright Hawaiian sunshine warmed her bare shoulders as she breathed in the scent of hibiscus, which grew in bunches along his pristinely manicured yard. Every local on the island knew Kai Brady—millionaire, entrepreneur, world extreme-surfing champ. Even his massive koa door was intimidating, not to mention the mansion itself: an impressive two-story glass-and-concrete structure that loomed above her, looking expensive and enormous.

  Jun tried not to feel a pang of envy. She couldn’t afford to rent a single room in a house like this, much less own one. Not so for Kai Brady, gorgeous and wealthy, who ranked three years running as Hawaii’s most eligible bachelor in the local magazine, beating out even legendary rock stars who had taken up residence on Kauai. It was no wonder she was nervous. But she wasn’t a groupie, she reminded herself. She was here on a mission.

  She rang the bell and waited. Her sweaty hands squeezed the handle of the bag holding the thank-you gifts she’d brought: two of her homemade aromatherapy candles, which she hand-dipped, and some crayon drawings her four-year-old son, Po, had made for him. Then there was the gift certificate for a free session of Tai Chi, not that she thought he’d use it, but she didn’t have much money, and lessons she taught fell into the category of the meager things she could offer.

  She considered, for a minute, leaving the package on his doorstep, but she thought the candles would melt in the afternoon sun. Besides, she had it in her mind that she wanted to thank him personally. He deserved at least that. That was why she hadn’t just sent the gifts in the mail.

  She glanced at her reflection in the glass door. Jun kept her pale skin flawless by applying excessive sunscreen and avoiding the sun like the plague. Her mother, born in Beijing, had been insistent on that long before anyone really knew about the benefits of SPF. She’d come before her shift as a personal trainer at the big local gym, so she wore her fitness-instructor outfit of yoga capris, flip-flops and an athletic tank top, her dark hair up in a high ponytail. In the shadow of Kai’s villa, she felt suddenly underdressed. Then again, what was the proper attire to wear when thanking the man who had saved your son’s life?

  This week marked the year anniversary of the tsunami that had nearly drowned Po. If it hadn’t been for Kai Brady, her precious boy would’ve died.

  She’d never forget that morning. Jun had dropped Po off at day care as usual, but then, when she was already at work, on the tenth-floor gym of a high-rise, the earthquake hit, the tsunami came ashore, wrecking much of the western shoreline, and she got the worst news a parent could receive: her boy had never made it to the evacuation center. He was missing.

  Then, after a horrible day of waiting, she got a message on her Facebook account: friends of Kai Brady were trying to reach her. Kai had broken his leg saving her son, and they were both in the hospital. Po, thankfully, had only scratches. Thanks to Kai.

  Jun’s heart constricted anytime she thought of that miserable day: the horror and bone-chilling fear when the day-care center told her Po was missing. Jun lived for her boy. He was her whole world. She’d had him at age nineteen, barely older than a child herself. It didn’t matter to her that he had been an accident, the result of a brief relationship with a football player on the island for the Pro Bowl, a father who wanted nothing to do with Po.

  Jun never fought Dante Henley, Po’s father, for support. She wasn’t going to beg anyone for anything. She didn’t like the idea of being indebted—to anyone, for any reason.

  Which was why, as grateful as she was to Kai, she hated the feeling that she owed him. One way or another, she was going to find a way to pay that debt. Right now the only thing she could think to do was honor him on every anniversary of that tsunami.

  She told herself her preoccupation with the famous surfer had nothing at all to do with the fact that he had the kind of sculpted body and bright white smile expected of a Calvin Klein underwear model. Or that he had enough cash from endorsements to live in a place like this.

  She rang the bell once more and peeked in through the wall of glass windows along the front of the house. All she could see was tasteful granite, smooth-finished wood and gleaming floors. Was that a lanai out back? The wall-less living room was bigger than her whole condo! It overlooked a glistening mirrored pool that looked as though it cascaded into the ocean.

  Jun blinked rapidly and tried not to press her nose against the glass. This might be the most beautiful house she’d ever seen.

  She saw movement inside and held her breath. Was he going to answer the door? Or was he too rich for that? Did he have a butler? Her stomach lurched. She fought the urge to smooth down her ponytail, to double-check her tinted lip balm in the glass. She didn’t know why she cared. As a single mom, she didn’t have time to date. She barely had time to sleep.

  She heard the door lock click and the knob turn and Kai stood there, shirtless, clad only in swim trunks.

  For a second, all rational thought fled her head. The words she’d been about to utter simply dried up on her tongue. All she could think was...tall...broad...chest. Miles of smooth tanned skin, a wall of rippled, strongly defined muscles and not a single ounce of fat anywhere. She tried to swallow, but she couldn’t. Her mouth was parched. He was so...tall. So...big.

  Big muscles. Big, big muscles.

  She felt as if she’d devolved instantly into a cavewoman. Big muscles. Me like.

  The last time she’d seen Kai, he’d been recovering in a hospital bed, fully clothed, his hurt leg in traction. He’d been tanned and attractive, sure, but he’d been clothed. That fierce six-pack had been safely tucked away under a white hospital gown.

  She realized she was staring at his perfectly formed abs, her fingers itching to touch them. How did he get such...definition? She worked at a gym and she was st
umped just looking at them.

  Also, she noted, he was a lot taller than she remembered. A lot taller. Her eyes were level with his chest. And, wow, what a chest.

  His full lips curled up in an amused smile. “May I...help you?”

  Oh, yes. Yes, you can. She immediately felt her face grow bright tomato red. She normally wasn’t this forward, even in her own head. She didn’t go around panting after men like a teenager. What was wrong with her? As if she’d never seen a man without a shirt on before. Get a grip, Jun. All those meatheads at the gym should’ve long since inoculated her against the power of the male form. And yet...clearly they hadn’t.

  “I...uh...” Why couldn’t her mind form words any longer? She felt as though she’d been hit on the head. Could a person get a concussion from close proximity to Hawaii’s hottest and richest bachelor? He probably got this all the time: women who lost the ability to speak in his presence.

  “Yes?” Kai asked politely. With great effort, Jun pulled her attention away from his physique and tried to focus on his face.

  She found that was a mistake. His chest might be distracting, but his face was worse. He was all chiseled perfection up there: dark, intelligent eyes, expressive yet playful eyebrows, sensual mouth and the kind of just-there stubble on his square jaw. He slumped his broad, muscled shoulders against the doorframe and crossed his arms, patiently waiting her out. She had to say something. Why wasn’t her mouth working?

  “Hi...” Say your name. Your name. “Jun.”

  “June? Like the month?”

  This was going even worse than she’d feared.

  “No. I’m Jun.” Heat flared up the back of her neck. “Uh... Jun Lee. I...”

  Kai’s face showed zero recognition. She felt a little pinch in her chest. It had been a year since she’d seen him and she didn’t have Po with her, and yet, somehow, she’d been hoping he’d remember her.

  “Maybe you’d like to come in? Get out of the sun?” he offered, looking concerned.