BREAKER: A Brother's Best Friend Standalone Romance Page 3

  “Going already?” Jace calls from behind me.

  I flick my gaze back at him. “Got shit to do.”

  My friend polishes off his drink. “Wait a second. I’ll walk out with you.”

  I push open the door with him on my heels. My bike waits for me out front along the curb.

  “Still can’t believe you bought a motorcycle.” Jace’s chuckle is full of disbelief.

  “Dude, it’s been six months. The shock value is long gone.”

  “Not to me. It’s one of those exotic fantasies for a man.”

  “That’s way too deep. It’s just a means of getting across town. This beauty is far cheaper than my truck to fill up. Maintenance is a breeze. A lot more fun to drive, too. And we both know you’re just jealous.”

  His grin borders on ridiculous. “Fuck yes, I am. But my folks would lose their shit.”

  I straddle my ride and lift the stand. “Still so concerned about what mommy and daddy dearest think?”

  Jace folds his arms. “Don’t pretend you aren’t. My mom is getting more gray hair thanks to your choice of transportation.”

  The never ceasing knot in my gut tightens. I keep my gaze on the setting horizon. “She shouldn’t worry about me.”

  “But she does,” he reminds in a tone too soft for this conversation.

  “I don’t need pity.” The accusation rips from my throat.

  Jace holds up a palm. “She cares about you, we all do. That has nothing to do with feeling bad for your stubborn ass. There’s a huge difference.”

  I grind my molars until dust collects. “Whatever. I gotta go.”

  He scoffs and shakes his head. “Yeah, yeah. Always bailing whenever the terrain gets a little tough.”

  There’s no good way for me to respond. I have nothing to say that will fix this. It’s a problem I’m more than aware of. But when life continues to shove me down, finding the strength to steer on a better route loses appeal. I slide my helmet on and crank the bike to life. The sharp rip of the engine drowns out any protest Jace might be voicing. I rev several times with extra power, my grip punishing. With a swift kick, I race off toward home.

  Main Street passes in a blur. I twist the throttle hard enough to send my bike up on one wheel. I’m being reckless, but my skin is itching for speed. To escape the sensation of being trapped. In the next second, I’m flying down the road far above the limit. This is the only way I truly feel free.

  The yellow divider guides my way. I focus on that as everything else fades to black. The vibrations beneath me are soothing and with each passing mile, tension melts away. It’s almost impossible to hear anything above the whipping wind and roaring exhaust. But I catch the blue and red flashing lights in my mirrors.

  Fuck.

  I make the effort to brake quickly, not wanting to further piss off the cop behind me. I steer my bike to the gravel shoulder and kill the engine. After tugging off my helmet, I blow out a heavy breath. This should be interesting.

  The echoing slap of boots on pavement warn me of the officer’s approach. I clench my eyes shut and search for patience that doesn’t exist.

  “Howdy, Grady. Know why I pulled you over?”

  I let my head fall. Not him. Anyone but this deputy dipshit. I glare over my shoulder at Lance Fucking Morris, also known as the biggest douchebag in Silo Springs. How he became a police officer is beyond me.

  “Not a clue, man.”

  Lance shifts closer and stares down his pointy nose at me. I fucking hate being on lower ground. He doesn’t deserve to make me feel small. “I’m not your buddy, Grady. Be careful with who you’re offending. You’re speaking to an officer of the law and you will do so with some respect.”

  I offer him an exaggerated eye roll. “Yeah, whatever.”

  “Step off the motorcycle, sir.”

  “Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

  “Now,” he snaps.

  I pocket the key to my bike and swing off. A cocky grin curves my lips as I stand almost a foot taller than him. “Problem?”

  Lance resembles a weasel when he squints. “Turn around, hands behind your back.”

  A laugh scrapes out of me, lacking any trace of humor. “For real? You must be joking.”

  He removes a set of cuffs from his belt. “Are you resisting arrest?”

  “What the fuck am I being charged with?”

  “Don’t make this harder than necessary, Grady.”

  “This is bullshit,” I spit.

  But fighting is useless. This bully has a badge and will win in the long haul. I turn away painfully slow and offer up my crossed wrists. This isn’t my first rodeo. I highly doubt it’ll be my last.

  Cold metal pinches my skin, far tighter than required. I shoot him another glare. “Is that really fucking necessary?”

  Lance sneers. “Can’t be too careful in my line of work.”

  I tug against the harsh bonds. “You’re targeting me.”

  “Not hard to do. Like father, like son. I saw you pulling out of Howlers. Next time, try to avoid swerving.”

  Stinging heat rips up my spine. “I had one beer.”

  “Such a lightweight. No wonder you’re such a fuckup. This town doesn’t need you

  staining it’s good name.”

  “You’re such a shit, Morris. Worse than the punk-ass you were in high school.”

  Lance drags me toward his cruiser. “That might be the case. Big difference is I have the law to back me up.”

  “Isn’t that fucking swell. You’re a disgrace to the department.”

  He yanks open the rear passenger door and motions for me to get in. “It’ll be a pleasure to book you with disorderly conduct and verbal assault.”

  I force myself to follow orders, swooping onto the leather backseat. “Good luck getting that shit to stick.”

  “Any amount of time with you locked up is payment enough,” he says with a grin.

  “What about my bike?” It’s not my greatest concern at this moment, but a potential hassle might have him thinking twice.

  He rocks on his heels. “Not my concern. Have one of your cronies pick it up.”

  Lance shuts me inside with a reverberating slam. I can already picture the metal bars sliding closed and caging me in a microscopic cell. Bile rises, the foul flavor singeing my tongue. I scoot forward and swallow the urge to retch.

  “Hey, man. You don’t have to do this. Just let me out and we’ll go our separate ways.”

  He bangs against the bulletproof partition separating us. “Shut the fuck up, Grady. You’ve had plenty of chances.”

  The fuck I have. My luck ran dry when I was still in diapers.

  Lance is quiet as he drives us to the station. I can almost hear his brain rattling with effort. He smiles at me in the mirror. “Did you hear Sutton is coming home tomorrow?”

  Her name alone is a shot to my chest. Fuck, I almost double over. But my reaction is hidden from this asshole’s view. To him, my expression rivals a stone mask. The harsh look has granted me a reputation of being cold and unfeeling. Maybe that’s true. No one gives enough of a shit to dig deeper and see.

  Except her. But she might as well be ancient history.

  I’d leave this crooked, judgmental town if it wasn’t for my mother. She’s barely hanging on. Without me checking in, she’d waste away that much faster. Silo Springs has no hold on me beyond that. I scoff over the lie threatening to strangle me. There’s another reason, far more profound and significant. That truth prowls below the surface. My mother isn’t the only person I stay rooted in place for.

  Try as I damn might, Sutton has a hold on me. Nothing will ever come of that unyielding grip. Especially with the shitty way I treat her. But I can’t lower my guard. The bullshit indifference is my only defense to keep Sutton at arm’s length. Nothing more will ever develop between us, but I’m tethered to her all the same. She’s the only happy something in my life. Even with the distance we’ll always keep between us.

  So
, I’m left in a city full of people who consider me the enemy. A worthless punk from deadbeat parents. There’s no real value to my name. I haven’t helped matters with my less than pleasant demeanor. Case in point as I sit in the bad end of a squad car.

  “Did you fall asleep? That one beer must have been strong.” Lance’s scratchy tone drags me into the present.

  My scowl reaches new lows. “I’m completely sober at this point, fuck you very much. Just not interested in chit-chatting with you.”

  He grunts. “You’re stuck back there. Make the most of it.”

  I sag against the seat and stretch my legs. “Noted.”

  “I’m going to ask her out.”

  “Who?” I close my eyes. Since Lance mentioned it, might as well try for a nap.

  “Sutton. Weren’t you listening?”

  I jolt to attention, my spine snapping ramrod straight. “And you’re taking a shot at her?” The words taste like sewage.

  “Why the hell not? She deserves an honest man. I can treat her right and provide anything she needs.”

  I fist my cuffed hands against the jab of harsh reality. He’s right, of course. This douche was raised on the proper side of the tracks. He’s from a family that happens to be stupid wealthy. The steady job is an added bonus. Still, he doesn’t need to gloat.

  A rushed breath hisses past my lips. “Good luck with that, buddy. I’m sure she met someone in college.” The idea alone is a dagger to my frozen heart. Sutton will never be mine, but she doesn’t need random assholes pawing at her. I can’t have her. No else should either.

  Lance’s pearly whites flash in the rearview mirror reflection. “I can be patient.”

  Flames spark to life in my vision. I don’t give a shit about most things. People can do just about anything to me and it doesn’t matter. I’ve already been through worse. One bright spot remains, and he’s trying to take that away.

  Sutton Olsen is the only source of happy I’ve allowed myself. She’s an exception to most of my rules. But that’s a secret I’ll forever keep. It’s douchebags like Lance that will use my attachment to her against me.

  Involving her in this pissing contest was a very grave mistake. If this smarmy asshole attempts to lay a finger on her, he’ll find it broken. Keeping Lance Morris away from Sutton just became a top priority.

  Happy something #124: The smell of fresh cut grass, especially in the morning.

  I step onto the porch and inhale a lungful of crisp air. That heavenly aroma rivals the rich hazelnut steaming from my mug. Streaks of morning sun filter through the luscious trees overhead. My mother’s beloved rooster crows from his roost on the barn roof. Getting reacquainted with this lifestyle will take minimal effort.

  After taking a slow sip of coffee, I continue surveying our slice of paradise. This sprawling land is a hearty dose of pure good, and a blessing for the soul. The fringes of apprehension fade with each passing moment. I stretch my arms out to the side, feeling the stress of finals and graduation and moving home vanish.

  There’s no sign of industrial smog or haze clogging the sky. The nearest glow from a stoplight is miles away. No buzz of bustling traffic can be heard. There aren’t any skyscrapers visible along the horizon. Out here, it’s just green grass and natural beauty.

  Almost on autopilot, I hop down the stairs and relax into an Adirondack chair seemingly waiting for me. The sigh that escapes my lips can only be described as blissed-out. Acres of rolling fields span in every direction. Memories join my reverie, flickering within the rustic backdrop.

  I can see Jace throwing baseballs into the flat tire that’s still strung up on the large oak. My mom hanging wet laundry on the clothesline because nothing bought in a store smells better than pure sunshine. I squint and imagine my dad hauling a trailer, brimming with bales, toward the barn. And Grady, of course. He appears more often than anyone else. No surprise there. His presence is root-deep, like the very soil this house sits on. But one spot stands out against the others.

  Our swing still hangs from the sturdy maple branch. Goosebumps pebble along my skin when I recall the brush of his hands against me. No one pushed me higher than him, in all the ways that mattered.

  “Hey, sweetie.”

  The serene melody chases those thoughts up into the clouds. I shift to face my mother while she descends the stairs. “Hi, momma.”

  “You’re awake early.”

  That earns her a laugh. “It’s nearly nine o’clock.”

  Her brow lifts. “My daughter used to sleep until noon during summer break.”

  “Well, consider that habit shattered. I can barely stay in bed past eight.”

  She sits in the chair beside me. “Never thought that’d happen. Jace was always my wake-up call. But here you are, up and out before me.”

  I smile at her. “Glad I can still surprise you.”

  My mom nods and takes a drink from her mug. “What’s on your agenda for the day?”

  “Oh, let me see. Finish unpacking. Set up my schedule for next week. Contact my clients. That sort of thing.” I shade my eyes when a blast of sunlight breaches the trees.

  She brushes some hair off my forehead. “Don’t forget to save space for relaxing and smelling the flowers. Kick your feet up, enjoy being home.”

  My mom isn’t aware that I’d been wading through syrupy nostalgia mere moments ago. My limbs are loose and there’s zero threat of strain. No troubles are finding me on this tranquil piece of lawn. Not yet, at least.

  “Don’t worry, momma. I’ll have plenty of fun.”

  “Good. That’s really good.” She squeezes my hand. “Any plans to reconnect with old friends?”

  I glance over, catching the slight upturn to her lips. There’s a particular someone she’s digging about. “Lacie and Molly stayed local. I’ll get together with them soon.” A lazy shrug accompanies my words.

  Her nails tap on the armrest. “Anyone else?”

  A huff escapes me. My mother is well aware of my prior crush on Grady. “Why don’t you tell me?”

  “He’s around often enough.” She doesn’t bother hiding her smile.

  The telltale flutters take flight in my belly. Traitorous butterflies. “Oh?”

  “Mhm-hmm. He’s such a big help to your father and brother.”

  Without realizing, she provides an easy out from this topic. “Where’s dad? He was already gone when I woke up.”

  “At the office.”

  “On a Saturday?”

  Her nose scrunches. “He’s working on a major project. An impressive tool with a really complicated name that could vastly improve some farming system.”

  My mother is clueless when it comes to my father’s job. I’m not much better. All the equations and calculations go straight over my head. He’s a mechanical engineer with a specialty in farm equipment. Way back when, he led the team that created several enhancements for numerous machines. Because of their developments, the time it takes for plowing fields and harvesting crops and baling hay is cut in half.

  “That’s why they pay him the big bucks.” I steer my gaze forward. A few upgraded combines and tractors rest near the barn. This isn’t a fully functioning farm by any means. Our expansive property is more for recreation and leisure. But my dad loves his toys, and puts them to good use. Twenty acres of the rear fields are used for growing hay. I’m fairly certain cutting and baling isn’t a chore for him.

  She nods and rises to her feet. “I’m not sure your father will ever retire. He has the best of both realities.”

  “Lofty corner office by day. Sitting comfy on a John Deere at night. What more could he want?”

  My mom laughs. “Precisely. I’ll never tear him away.”

  “Not that you really want to.” I rest my chin on an open palm, appraising her carefree expression. They’re both living the high life. Why was I hesitant to move home? The reasons are beginning to blur.

  She cups my cheek, swiping at the soft skin with her thumb. “We’re very happy to have
you back, kiddo. Truly. This town lost a lot of sparkle when you left.”

  I blink at the moisture clouding my vision. “Thanks, momma. I’m glad my old room was still available.”

  Her tsk is loud. “Please. You’re always welcome and we’ll never change a thing.”

  “Even when I’m forty?”

  “Now you’re just being silly.” She walks toward the porch stairs. “I have to get started on my pies for bridge club tonight. Can I get you anything?”

  “Want some help?”

  My mom waves me off. “Nonsense. Enjoy your downtime.”

  I glance around. “I could definitely get used to this.”

  “That’s great, dear. Holler if you need something.”

  “Will do, momma.” I slouch lower in my chair, soaking up the morning warmth before humidity forces me inside. This is absolutely living the right way. I savor my final sip of coffee with a soft sigh.

  I’m contemplating a refill when something in my periphery distracts me. A shadowed figure breaks through the tree line. The hulking presence is a storm cloud crashing into my serenity. I know who he is without him getting closer. The sight of broad shoulders and a scruffy jaw sets my heart racing. A lump the size of Wyoming lodges in my throat. I don’t move, not sure I can. Breathing is already enough of a challenge. I’m trapped in this intense force field he’s solely responsible for creating.

  A tremor wracks every part of me while the ground tilts sideways. I’ve been back in Silo Springs for less than twenty-four hours. That isn’t nearly long enough to prepare for him. But that doesn’t stop his steady approach. The warm sunlight vanishes, my ability to hear and smell and touch disappear. My senses are consumed by the man straight ahead. Grady’s presence takes up everything without him realizing the impact.

  His stride is stiff, that guard he uses firmly in place. The sun glints off his dark blond hair, the length longer than I remember. I rub my fingers together, imagining the silky texture of the strands. He’s so damn sexy. There’s no use denying his appeal. The need to call out burns on my tongue. I can’t let him pass by without saying something. It’s been four lonely years since we’ve spoken. A piercing cramp attacks my stomach at that. Our silence ends now. My pulse roars as I part my lips. A pitiful squeak is all I manage to muster.