Page 17 of Just What I Needed


  declined to participate. He insisted. I declined again. He insisted. Today he informed me that he’d told the PR company I’d had a change of heart and agreed to participate. And I told him exactly what I thought of that, of him and the repercussions if he didn’t get my name off that fucking list.”

  Jens’s quiet anger was far scarier than I’d remembered. It’d been a long time since I’d seen it.

  “What was the PR project?”

  He shook his head.

  “Come on. Tell me why you said no.” I crossed my arms over my chest—a clear sign I wasn’t going anywhere.

  His gaze snapped to mine. “It’s an NFL calendar for charity. Twelve pro players, one for each month, the number of offensive players and defensive players an even split.”

  “And?”

  “And they wanted me to be Mr. December. You know, since I’m from snowy Minnesota.” He snorted. “I suspect they assigned me the last month of the year since we finished last in our division last year. Anyway, all the other months have some nudity—shirtless poses mostly—but my slot is a full nude. Not frontal obviously, but with my bare ass and bare back to the camera, looking over my shoulder, wearing a purple and gold Santa hat. A fucking Santa hat.”

  Do not laugh.

  “I can’t imagine why they’ve had a problem finding a sucker to pose for December, can you?” He sneered. “What pisses me off the most is now I’ll be labeled a prude or a religious freak when I never said yes to the project in the first place. So thanks for that, Aggie. But hey, it’s not like I have a shit-ton of other endorsements that decision could affect anyway.”

  I waited, knowing he wasn’t done.

  He set his hands on his hips. “What’s wrong with being a modest guy? It’s okay for women to be ‘brave’ and say no to nude photos, but I can’t? Because I’ve worked my butt off for years to get stronger and leaner so I can do my damn job better, that means I should be proud to let everyone gawk at my body? No. Hell no.”

  “This is a serious breach of client trust, bro.”

  He sighed. “I know. I hate this part of the business, Walker. Hate. It. The head games. I am a football player. Not a model. Not a pawn.”

  “Nothing will get your point across faster than firing Aggie and being up front about why you did it. It’s not the nudity. He put his best interests ahead of yours. That’s not what you pay him for. Have you talked to Jax about his agent?”

  “Not yet. But I will.”

  “Good.” I clapped him on the back. “Enough for today. Let’s hang out with the cousins and taunt them about how badly we’re going to kick their asses on the court today.”

  “Deal.”

  As far as finding distractions to keep me from obsessing over Trinity, there’d been plenty at the Lund barbecue.

  Jens, Annika and I were gathered at the bar when our parents strode hand in hand to the center of the patio and called for attention.

  “What the hell is this?” Jensen asked Annika.

  “No clue. But I hope it’s not an announcement for another mandatory Lund family enrichment course.”

  I snickered. “What, you don’t want to learn to salsa again?”

  Annika shoved me. “Piss off. Who lets Mom make these decisions? She had to know that making salsa and salsa dancing were two different things.”

  “Yes, Roberto and Selena were rightfully confused when Mom shut off their music and banished them to the kitchen to start chopping tomatoes.”

  “Hey, maybe this time she’ll mix up merengue and meringue,” Jensen said.

  Annika shoved him too.

  “Making their first appearance as husband and wife, we’d like to present . . . Mr. and Mrs. Brady Lund.”

  Brady and Lennox came around the corner, waving awkwardly as the Lund collective started clapping.

  “No. Freakin’. Way.” Annika beat both Jensen and me to be the first in line to congratulate them.

  “Did you know about this?” Jensen demanded.

  “No, but Dad was acting weird earlier, so he and Mom knew.”

  Just as we walked up, I heard Brady say, “It was a spur-of-the-moment thing. We were having a great time on vacation and I realized I already felt married to her. So we made it official.”

  “But no wedding, Lennox?” Annika said with near horror. “No wedding dress or bridesmaids, or bachelorette party?”

  “His spontaneous proposal and the surprise wedding ceremony were very romantic.” She reached for Brady’s hand. “I had everything I needed for the perfect wedding when I found the perfect man.”

  I glanced over to see my mother crying. Annika was leaking too. I let the women hug it out. When it was my turn, I high-fived my brother. “Smart move, man. Congrats.”

  “Thanks.”

  That was the extent of it for us. Didn’t mean I wasn’t happy for him—I was. I just wasn’t gonna cry about it.

  After the big announcement, none of us felt like playing basketball.

  Annika, Mom, the aunts and Mimi gathered in the gazebo to grill Lennox. Dad, the uncles and Jax played horseshoes. Nolan and Ash had left together, mumbling about a golf game, but I suspected they’d gone back to the office for whatever mysterious project they were working on.

  Brady kept an eye on Lennox as we lounged at the bar.

  When he fiddled with his wedding ring for the tenth time, I said, “Think you’ll get used to wearing that?”

  “I’m already used to it.”

  Our youngest brother made a whip-cracking sound.

  “You know what I find interesting? That for being a ‘spontaneous’ wedding, that big rock fits her finger perfectly.” I sipped my beer. “Almost like it’d been sized to fit.”

  “They have jewelry stores on the island, numb-nuts.”

  Jens caught my train of thought and ran with it. “But I heard you have to apply for a marriage license at least a month in advance.”

  “Yeah? Who’d you hear that from?” I volleyed back.

  “Guy on the team. He and his girlfriend took a vacay there, decided to get hitched and were told they’d have to wait something like two weeks.”

  I shrugged. “Maybe Brady has connections.”

  “Or maybe our big bro lied about the impulsive nature of his nuptials,” Jensen added.

  “Fine, you nosy bastards. I planned it, okay?”

  Jens and I exchanged a fist bump and a grin.

  “Spill the deets, bro,” he said.

  Brady sighed. “It seemed prudent to have Lennox pick out her own engagement ring since it’ll be on her hand for the rest of her life.”

  I mouthed, Prudent, at Jens and he snickered.

  “Piss off. Seriously.”

  “Sorry. Continue.”

  He took a swig of beer. “After I picked up our matching rings, I started to panic about coming up with a perfect surprise proposal. Being a practical man, I decided to skip the proposal entirely and go straight to the main event. We’d already booked the vacation, so I scrambled to get the license. I asked Lennox’s old roommate Kiley to find a dress for her to wear, since she knew Lennox’s style, and I had it shipped to the hotel along with my suit. I ordered her favorite flowers, booked the honeymoon suite, hired a judge, found a spot on the beach and”—he smiled—“totally knocked her off her feet.”

  “Cool. That’s the way to do it. Keeps it private and personal.”

  “Thanks. Neither of us wanted a wedding spectacle.”

  I raised my bottle to him. “I’ll say thanks for letting me skip wearing a tux.”

  “You’re welcome. Enough about that. What’s going on with you and the mystery chick?”

  “What mystery chick?” Jensen repeated.

  “Walker didn’t tell you that he had a kiss-and-run incident in a dive bar with a hot brunette who lied about her name and gave him a fake phone number?” Brady said innocently.

  Asswipe. I glared at him.

  “No, it’s the first I’ve heard of it.” Jensen cuffed me in the back o
f the head. “Where’s the damn love for me? I oughta know this shit, bro.”

  “I’ll show you the love, jackass.” I took a swing at him, but he could move lightning fast and dodged me.

  “Knock it off, you two,” Brady warned. “So you found her?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How?”

  “Total coincidence.”

  “And?”

  “And . . . it’s complicated.”

  “Thankfully I have a brain that can follow complex human social patterns,” Brady said.

  “Ditto for me,” Jensen chimed in. Then he added, “Dubbya, it blows when you boycott the family deals and pull the turtle routine so none of us know what’s shaking in your life.”

  “Sorry. I just—” Didn’t think you’d noticed.

  “Skip to the down-and-dirty parts and all will be forgiven.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Please tell me she wore a mask or something kinky when you found out her true identity.”

  “There is no down and dirty. Or kinky.”

  “Dude.” Jensen slumped in his chair. “I thought I was the only one who wasn’t getting laid regularly.”

  “Funny, football star.” I drank my beer. “You get laid more often than anyone I know except Nolan.”

  “Wrong. I haven’t had my goalpost polished for weeks. I’m done with sideline bunnies. This year I’m one hundred thousand percent focused on my game.”

  Brady leaned in. “Can we get back on track? Mystery chick story?”

  “Notice how the newlywed isn’t lamenting his sorry sex life,” I grumbled.

  “Because it’s not sorry. It’s spectacular.” He smirked. “It’s good to be me. Now on with it.”

  “Fine.” I filled in the blanks for Jens and relayed the week’s events, including the crap night at Ramon’s party and Trinity’s bizarre behavior afterward. “I haven’t decided what I’ll do about it.”

  Jensen said, “Forget about her,” at the same time Brady said, “Fight for her.”

  “Helpful advice, guys. Thanks.”

  “Describe your lady’s weird behavior.”

  “She babbled a bunch of stuff that made no sense and then when I responded? It was like she hadn’t heard anything I’d said. Why?”

  “Every time Lennox and I crossed paths before we started dating, she blurted out rude things to me.”

  I frowned. “Lennox? Really?”

  “Hard to believe because she’s never that way now. She confessed it was a nervous reaction to me then.” He paused. “Maybe her embarrassment level increased after she woke up in your truck and she said whatever she needed to to get away. Classic flight response.”

  I hadn’t considered that.

  “Or maybe she’s just a damn head case,” Jensen said.

  Brady scowled at him.

  “What? It’s a possibility. Especially given his track record with women.” Jensen squinted at me. “Dude. You are a magnet for crazy. You remember Firebug Fiorina?”

  “She’s a little hard to forget since she torched my golf cart.” Not that I could prove it.

  “Who was the girl who bawled about everything?”

  “Wailing Whitney.” The last straw was when she sobbed hysterically in Perkins when they buttered the toast she’d ordered dry.

  Jensen snapped his fingers. “Which one put her cat in therapy because he ‘seemed depressed’ after being declawed?”

  “Neurotic Natalie,” Brady supplied.

  Awesome that they remembered all of this when I’d tried so damn hard to forget.

  “Neurotic Natalie at least could hold a conversation. I never heard Zoned-Out Zoë utter a word. She just cocked her head and stared at me every time I tried to talk to her.”

  Jens snorted. “I never saw ZZ without a blunt tucked behind her ear.”

  “The stoner was way better than Angry Amy. Christ. Do you remember when we went to that movie at the Uptown? And we saw her standing in the front of the theater yelling at people to stop misogynists from co-opting the female experience by turning every movie into a dick pic?”

  “I’m pretty sure she’s a lesbian now.”

  “I’d watch that porn,” Jensen said. “Man. She was smoking hot.”

  “Vicious Vera was hot too,” Brady said. “But that did not make up for that mouth of hers.”

  Jensen scratched his chin. “She’s the one who made Annika cry?”

  “Yep.” But Vera had been no match for one pissed-off Mama Lund. That’s probably why she was the last woman I’d brought to any Lund gathering.

  “Who are we forgetting?”

  “I wish you’d forget about them all.”

  “Have you talked to Annika about this thing with Trinity?”

  I shook my head. “She’s on an ‘All men are dogs’ tear.”

  “I noticed. What’s up with that?” Jens asked.

  “Hockey players.”

  He snorted. “Enough said.”

  Brady stood. “Good gossiping with you girls, but I’m going to fetch my wife.”

  The party broke up soon after.

  I was putting the leftover beer in the bar fridge in the family room when Mom sauntered in and parked herself on a barstool.

  “I hear that heavy sigh. Is it so . . . weary making that I wish to speak with you?”

  “Of course not.”

  “You done avoiding Brady and Lennox now that they’re bored married couple?”

  “They’ve been married a few days. I’d hope they’re not bored already.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I’ve told you; I wasn’t avoiding Brady and Lennox.”

  “Yah? You came to the last barbecue that they did not. Time before that—you leave right after they arrive. Brady does everything first, no? He’s oldest, you expect it. But not with this. Not with him getting what you want most. It’s hard pill to chew. Of all my children, Walker, you are most like me. You’re in this family, a happy family you love, but you want a family of your own. That was the way of your grandmother. That is the way of me. You are the same.”

  “Mom—”

  “Listen to me. Why did you, young man of twenty-four, buy such grand house? Because you saw it as family home. And why, as the owner of company that renovates houses, have you not renovated yours? I tell you why. Because you are waiting to renovate when you find the woman who will live with you there for good.”

  And . . . once again, she’d completely blown me away. I’d never told anyone about the first time I’d entered my house and knew I’d found where I belonged. I imagined the echo of feet running up and down the long oak staircase. I heard dogs barking, cartoons blaring, the sounds of a family gathered in the kitchen to share a meal. I felt the happy vibe of the families who’d lived and loved and fought and laughed and cried together in the space and I wanted that for myself.

  “There is no shame in wanting that,” she said gently.