Chapter 14 Three Dog Night （Brady） #2
If Mom’s determined to like her, and Lena can handle being liked, I’m confident we won’t be derailed anytime soon.
Wendy returns with more drinks—tall glasses of lemonade we sip while Mom peppers Lena with more questions about her work. What she thinks about every cat, dog, turtle, parrakeet, and hedgehog under the sun, and how she got into it.
Casual questions, but assessing.
She might be the more open-minded one compared to my father by a mile, but she’s still searching, trying to see if Lena’s truly good enough.
It’s not just the old money factor.
It’s that invasive way mothers have when they think they know what’s best for their kids. Particularly when their sons have bad habits and a whole history of idiocy to their name.
Even though Mom is pretty decent with respecting my boundaries and letting me make my own choices—and lots of damn mistakes over the years—she isn’t immune to checking in, with love.
Once our glasses are empty, Lena frowns and glances around. “I think I left my jacket by the laundry. I’ll be back in a second.”
“Of course,” Mom says. The moment Lena leaves the room, she turns to me. “I like her. She’s very authentic. Down to earth, obviously kindhearted. Exactly the kind of centering feminine energy you need.”
“Again with the energy talk?” I scoff. “I don’t need centering, Mother.”
“Regardless, she’s good for you, Brady. Don’t let her get away.”
“Can’t argue with that.”
“But you should get the poor dear home and truly cleaned up. I feel awful, making her stand here and chitchat while she’s soaked to the bone. No young girl should be that dirtied up and stressed out when she’s meeting her future mother-in-law.”
“This wasn’t the plan, Mom.” I smile, feeling a success—and also no point in pushing it further. “Thanks for coming out here and humoring me. Lena loves this farm, too, mud and all.”
“I’m so glad I got to meet her. I think I’ll slip out before she’s back so there’s no pressure to entertain me. I’m going to that little orchard up the road, the one with the cider your father loves.” She rises and gives me a kiss on my cheek. “Now go get your girl.”
That’s one hurdle down. With Mom on our side, it’ll be easier to prod Dad into accepting our arrangement without wanting to strangle me.
He might pretend he’s emotionally dead to the world and Mom doesn’t influence him, but she’s the one who rules the roost.
Mostly because she’s become an expert at pushing his buttons over the years, including the ones for logic and whatever little dregs of human emotion he has left.
I find Lena while she’s grabbing her jacket, and steer her outside, giving Mom’s orchard excuse as a reason to leave.
Mostly, I’m greedy to have her to myself again.
Didn’t think sleeping with her would change so much, but I was wrong.
It’s not just the harsh desire churning in my blood, hounding me to ravish her again, especially if she needs a shower and she doesn’t lock me out.
I fucking wish it was just that.
No. With her, everything feels like a cotton candy adrenaline rush, and I’m chasing that high.
I couldn’t control the thoughts that flooded me after we fucked either. The ones still knocking around my head even after the drama today.
“You’re sure you want to rush out like this?” she asks, glancing behind me to where Wendy and Mom are still visible in the living room, chatting away.
Mom doesn’t have quite the same fondness for this place I do, but she and Wendy have always been friendly.
“I’m sure. She’s got cider on the brain, and you’d be crazy to delay her.”
“But I should say goodbye.”
I rub the base of her neck softly. “Sass, we should escape while we can. No need to push our luck when we’re ending on a good note.”
“Oh? You don’t think I can handle it?” She fires me an arched glance.
“I think we both have to handle this lie like it’s made of glass. Why risk a slipup and shatter it now?”
My phone buzzes, and I grab it from my pocket.
Luis, checking in to let me know he’s done following up with my nutrition team for the day. They’ll have a new report for me by tonight for our next trial formula.
For a second, I hesitate.
Then I look at Lena again, at the uncertainty on her face, and I wonder if I put it there. Or was it there long before me?
That bitter doubt, caked on her heart, just like the mud, by a man who isn’t nearly as innocent as Silver the horse.
I need dirt on Harry Jay. Start digging, I text.
On it. His reply comes a second later.
There must be something I can do to pry him off Lena’s back. To put her mind more at ease so she knows he’ll never trouble her again.
“We need to play it safe when we’re just starting out. I don’t want to blow it, and I don’t want to make this harder for you,” I tell her, stuffing my phone away.
“For me?” Her expression sobers, though I don’t mention Harry’s name. “It’s really not that bad. Jesus, Brady. I’m already over what happened yesterday—”
“That pretty face says otherwise,” I say gently.
“Brady—”
“Don’t fight me on this, okay? And don’t try to minimize what happened. That savage fuck doesn’t deserve the courtesy.” I haven’t forgotten the haunted look in her eyes when she told me how he’d posted those videos online—the revenge porn—like she was never anything more than a sick joke to him.
My blood boils like steaming tar.
“You’re sweet, but you’re testing my patience. I don’t need you to fight my battles,” she whispers, looking up defiantly.
Those eyes have no end when they catch the light. Prisms of cocoa and amber.
She’s so goddamn beautiful it hurts.
“Think of it as me fighting with you. Shoulder to shoulder, shield to sword. It’s past time you had someone in your corner, Sass. You can fight, but why should you have to do it alone?”
Just when I think she’ll argue back, her shoulders slump.
“Maybe. Just . . . don’t do anything stupid without running it by me first, okay?”
“Understood.”
“Do you still have my address?”
“Yeah.” We climb in the car, and I pull up the history on my dashboard screen. Before taking this on, I did some hunting.
I know more about her than anyone should.
Not the revenge videos, and they wouldn’t have changed my mind. But her address. Her phone number. Her voter registration.
Scary how easy it is for someone with money and connections to strip people naked.
Scarier because if I have her info, then Harry Jay surely has it too. And there’s no damn way I’m letting her face him alone.
It’s not that I don’t think she’s capable—we both know she is.
This is about leveling the playing field.
That’s the last time the bastard thinks he can pick on a defenseless young woman, dragging her back to the hell he caused.
The long drive down the highway is mostly silent, and as we approach Seattle, she fumbles around in her bag for her keys.
“It’s not the nicest place,” she says anxiously. “Nothing like your palace, I mean.”
“I’ve seen it before. You don’t need to apologize. It’s a nice little house.”
“It’s just . . .” Her mouth opens and closes. “Okay.”
“Good. Let’s get you home so you can have a hot shower.”
In ten or fifteen minutes, I’m walking through her front door. I notice her stop in the doorway and how her eyes dart around, making sure there aren’t intruders.
That makes two of us, and not just because of Harry Jay’s shit.
At this point in my life, it’s second nature to be wary. Always watching for cameras, for corporate spies from rival brands after Pruitt Ag. Someone always looking for their next viral story, because I turned my face to scratch my nose and it looked like I was fishing for boogers.
Once the door’s unlocked, she ushers me in.
Her house is small, a little cramped with books everywhere and scented candles lining small shelves in the living room. I spy a Kindle on top of a small stack of books next to the sofa—all romance paperbacks—and smile a little.
Some of these books look filthy. I’ve known enough girls to figure out that the dirtiest books hide under the covers with pretty flowers and mountain sunsets.
“Want a beer?” she asks a little nervously, gesturing to her kitchen.
“Sure. We just survived death by Mom, and that’s reason to celebrate.” I sink down on the sofa, sensing she wants to do this shit herself. “She does like you, you know.”
“I still can’t believe you didn’t warn me. Jackwagon.” She gives me a dirty look.
“But you’ll forgive me, won’t you? You’re sugar and spice, Sass. Not a vengeful bone in your body.”
“I’ll show you vengeful, stupid man.” She rolls her eyes, but I see the corner of her cheek curve. “Don’t be so cocky.”
“Am I wrong?” I nudge a book with my toe. “This is some interesting reading material, by the way.”
“What can I say? I like smut.” She shrugs so nonchalantly it takes a second to sink into my head.
And when it does, I laugh.
Then I think about her in bed, some toy buzzing between her legs, biting her lip as she comes like a dream.
I also get pissed that I’m not there to push the toy away, to replace it with a dick that brings her off leagues better than any vibrator.
Shit, maybe I need to start reading more.
She smirks as she hands me a beer. “What’s wrong? You look like I knocked you over the head with a mallet.”
“Just imagining what makes you tingle in those books,” I tell her.
“Oh, you know. The usual. Fun times with firefighters and lumberjacks and guys who are really good with their hands.” There’s no hint of shame in her gaze as it meets mine.
I laugh, and she smiles, too, her earlier embarrassment gone as she sips her beer.
I raise my bottle in a toast and say, “Here’s to everyone loving you as much as my mom did.”
“Pffft, you’re exaggerating. She wasn’t that impressed.”
“I don’t exaggerate. She said you’re perfect for me, which is basically the best compliment my mother can give.”
Lena smiles again, her lips curving, stealing my attention. My bottle taps my teeth. “Only because she thinks her son is perfect. How well does she know you?”
“Your implication wounds me.”