Lo sighed. She had been studying Brady's hands again. Now that they were back together with her own, she made sure they were exactly as she remembered them.
They were better.
“Maybe I'm not a long distance relationship kind of person,” she said.
Brady's deep chuckle jostled her softly and she smiled. They were sitting with their backs to the headboard. She had on his t-shirt and her panties, and he was in boxers. The sheet pulled up to their waists. One of his long, muscled arms was wrapped around her back, holding her to his side.
It was late, or early, depending on what side of the day you were standing. But neither one of them could sleep. They kept talking, touching, reconnecting. Like the distance had taken more from them than they had realized.
“As long as you're a relationship kind of person, I think we can make it work.” He pressed a kiss to her temple.
She shrugged in a way that brought her closer to him. “I guess I always assumed I was. But looking back, I was never really invested in any of them.”
His body grew still beside hers and she wondered if being this honest was okay. If talking through what she'd figured out about herself would make things better. Or if it would make him realize what a basket case she was and run for the hills.
“I had this fear,” she continued. “The fear of being my mom. Ending up loving someone who would never love me back. And here it turns out I was more in danger of becoming my father.”
Brady pushed away from the headboard so he could look her in the eye. “Why would you even say that?”
The anger in his eyes surprised her.
“Because, Brady,” she held up a hand weakly. “I withhold. I know I do. I feel myself doing it.”
The anger faded from his eyes and instead they got soft, like a fluffy blue sky. “So don't. Let me love you. Accept how I feel for you as a terrifying truth. Don't be either one of your parents. Frankly, they sound like a couple of weirdos.” He tilted his head as his eyes roamed lovingly over her face. “You're not like anyone else in the world. I honestly get angry thinking about someone taking credit for who you are.” He smiled and touched the tip of her nose. “You're a rogue wave, Lo. I never saw you coming.”
She cupped his cheek in one hand, feeling the rough stubble on her palm. Her eyes flicked down to his gorgeous lips. The lips that not only looked amazing and felt amazing. They also said amazing things that went straight to the heart of her. “Sugar stamps,” she murmured.
The sugar stamps smiled.
As she leaned in to have a taste of his perfection, a knock sounded outside.
Her shoulders fell and she looked towards her closed bedroom door. The knock wasn't on that one, it had been on the one outside.
“Maybe Steve will get it,” she said hopefully.
The knock turned into a pound.
“Haaaalooo” Miller's intoxicated voice carried through the door.
Lo cringed while simultaneously jumping out of the bed and scrambling for the door. Of course it had to be Miller. That only made all the sense ever.
“What are you doing?” Brady asked, catching her wrist as it closed around the knob.
“Getting there before you.” She maneuvered her body in front of his and pushed through the door ahead of him.
She collided with Steve. Who was bent over and yanking his pants up while trying to get to the pounding, which was still going on. So was the drunken shouting. Most of the words were unintelligible. Lo's name repeated over and over. Some curse words, mutterings, more pounding.
“Oof.” Steve toppled backwards and landed on his butt. He scowled at Lo and continued pulling his jeans up. “What are you doing?”
Wow. These guys and their questions.
She reached the door and braced one hand on the wood as the other grasped the knob.
“Lo.”
The stern reprimand in Brady's voice gave her pause. She looked over her shoulder, keeping her hand on the knob. She matched his tone. “Lover.”
His lips twitched as he advanced on her. “What are you doing?”
She refrained from rolling her eyes, knowing they were likely to get lodged in her brain. “Keeping you from getting taken away from me again.”
Brady froze and his eyebrows dipped.
Meanwhile, Miller had started a steady rhythm on the door, punctuated by slurred words and her full name in a mournful howl. Someone was going to complain. And they would all be in trouble.
“I'm not gonna lose control, Lo,” Brady said, wrapping his hand around her wrist again. “Please trust me.”
Last time he and Miller had been in the same room, things were broken and people had to be separated. She wasn't looking forward to a repeat. But Brady's eyes were clear and determined. They weren't the cloudy desperate eyes of a man trying to regain control.
She nodded and stepped back. Steve took hold of her upper arm and pulled her even further into the room. She swatted at him in annoyance. He flinched but stepped in front of her anyway.
Brady opened the door and braced his opposite hand on the frame, blocking Miller's entry and Lo's view. Except for Brady's muscular back, which normally wouldn't be an issue. But she didn't have time to admire his back.
“Samson? Wha—What are you doing here?” Miller asked, confusion coloring his tone.
“That's what I was going to ask you.”
Miller peered over Brady's shoulder and spotted Lo mostly tucked behind Steve. “I wanna talk to Lo.”
Brady shook his head calmly. “I don't think that's a good idea.”
“Why not?” Miller snapped.
“Boden, you're drunk. Go sleep it off.”
“Halo!” Miller yelled, trying to push through Brady into the villa anyway.
Lo found herself backing up, even though the rational part of her brain told her Miller would have to go through both Brady and Steve to reach her.
“What's going on here?”
Lo pushed up to her tiptoes as Steve held an arm up to hold her back. Right. As if she'd try to go out there now. She grabbed hold of his shoulder and leveraged herself higher to see what was happening.
“Nothing, Jules.” Brady's stance shifted. Instead of blocking the door, he took a step outside.
Jules. Lo snorted under her breath. Steve turned his chin slightly her direction.
“Go back to your villa.” Brady used his tone. The one that rankled Lo's nerves.
More voices joined them and Lo couldn't hear the words anymore. Miller's seemed further away. Brady left the doorway and went further outside.
“I don't like that.” Lo patted Steve's shoulder and he nodded.
Steve checked to make sure she was right behind him and he filled the doorway with his tall frame. Lo peeked over his shoulder.
Brady was standing on the rock path leading to their door, his arms crossed over his chest in his Captain America stance. Miller had backed onto the dirt thoroughfare, his head swiveling from Brady to the second group of people nearby.
The second group consisted of two women, Jules and Nadia, and a man.
Lo's eyes focused on the man and sharpened. He wasn't like other men. He was one of those warrior types. His posture and presence screamed power and authority. Maybe he was a commando of some kind. Dark hair, eyes, glower. Dark all over. He was even wearing all black. He was also the one Miller kept one eye on as he staggered around.
She was relieved Brady wasn't engaging Miller. She knew better than anyone what Miller could initiate with his words. Even with her knowledge, Lo was saddened by Miller's chosen behavior. Because she knew he was capable of being a different person. She'd seen it. It had been a long time, but she remembered.
“Oh my God!” Miller cursed. “Seriously?” He waved his hands in the air, indicating all the people watching him. “One conversation. I can't have one private conversation with my girlfriend.”
“Ex,” Brady corrected.
The small word deflated Miller. He took a deep breath, his face screwing into a snarl. “Just wait, Samson. You're next.” He spun on his wobbly feet and trudged down the path.
Steve rotated his head to catch Lo's eyes. “What's with you?”
She backed up. “What? Me?”
Steve crossed his arms and his body joined the previous rotation of his head. “Yeah. Why is Miller hung up on you? It's not his usual. He moves on. Fast.”
Lo licked her lips, eyes darting to the observers she had yet to be introduced to. Her eyes burned when she blinked. “Why does it have to be my fault?” But hadn't she known Miller's behavior was her fault already? Didn't it always come back to her?
“No one said it's your fault,” Julia interjected thoughtfully. “He was making an observation.”
Lo narrowed her eyes at the brunette photographer and opened her mouth to reply. Brady stepped into her line of sight.
“Babe, you're not wearing pants.” His tone caught her attention with its gentleness.
“Neither are you,” she pointed out.
His lips tugged up on one side. “But I don't have sexy legs.” His arms engulfed her in their warmth and reassurance. She melted into him, thankful the bomb that was Miller hadn't detonated all over their reunion.
“Scotch, where are you going?”
Lo looked over Brady's shoulder. Julia was talking to Commando who was walking in the opposite direction to the way they had come.
“Making sure he gets where he needs to get to.” Commando caught Lo's eyes and he lifted his chin.
“Let him go, Jules,” the second girl, Nadia, said, resting a hand on her friend's arm. “He'll be fine.”
Julia didn't look so sure. Her hands balled into fists at her sides, face pinched with worry.
“Julia,” Brady said, turning Lo in his arms so they were facing out again. “This is my girl.”
“Lo Fredericks.” Julia nodded and stepped forward with her hand extended.
Lo took it and smiled tightly. Julia was even prettier up close. Like, exotically captivating. Did she know she was on the wrong side of the camera?
“Nadia,” the other girl introduced herself.
Both women shook hands with Steve as well. All four of them stood outside the villa talking in the tropical late hour for a few minutes. Brady kept Lo tucked to his side, his large hand moving up and down her spine, keeping her relaxed.
Scotch came back down the path and nodded to the girls. He didn't stop.
“That's our cue,” Julia said, stepping away. “We'll see you guys tomorrow.”
Brady closed the door to the villa. Steve already had his pants around his ankles as he strode to his room.
“Goodnight again, kids. Try to not to wake me up unless I'm allowed to punch someone next time.”
Lo snickered and rolled her eyes. “That guy.”
“We need to find a nice girl for Steve,” Brady said, closing them inside her room again.
“If we find him a nice girl, he'll scare her away.” Lo straightened the covers, the fatigue and late hour finally catching up to her.
“Maybe she can turn him into a better man.”
“I think our best hope is to find him a girl that doesn't want to kill him every seven seconds. But I have a feeling Steve is the man he is. She'll have to love him, warts and all.”
Brady slid under the covers and patted the space beside him. “Like how you love me?” he asked with a grin.
She paused, taking in the size of his presence in her bed. In her life.
In her heart.
Could she love him the way he deserved? Could she love him the way he loved her?
She didn't know.
But she wanted to try.
Her chest filled with a heavy type of hope. The kind that shows up when you see a goal you know you have a chance at achieving and set your compass to it. The promise of hard work and enormous reward.
“I love you more than tacos.”
His eyes lit with amusement but included a gentle smile. One which indicated he knew what she was actually saying. “You better follow that with a kiss.”
She grinned, jumped into the bed, and kissed him soundly.