Mom and I are pretty close. When I need someone to vent to, I usually call her or come by my childhood home to complain about the latest dating disaster. I’m prone to those. Today is different, though.
I’m here because Dad had to pick me up at the hospital where I drove my date. Well, it’s more like he had to clear my name with the police because the doctors were accusing me of domestic violence.
Yep, that’s how bad my date went.
“I’m still confused about how you ended up breaking the guy’s nose,” Nathan snorts.
“He must’ve said, ‘You look pretty tonight,’” Seth replies. His hip is parked against the kitchen counter. He’s drinking from a can of Dr. Pepper while he watches me with amusement.
I was hoping this incident would stay between my parents and me. These two are never going to let it go. Having two pesky younger brothers is every girl’s nightmare and a woman’s headache. Again, my parents should’ve just kept their family small. Only one child—me.
“I still don’t get why Dad had to bring you along.”
“It’s poker night,” he reminds me.
I groan because that means everyone in my family already knows about this mess. My uncles and Dad have had this tradition since before I was born. Every Thursday, they get together to play. It used to be video games, but over the years, it transformed into poker night.
From only four players, it’s now up to at least ten a night—if not more. My grandparents, uncles, and cousins always gather in Uncle Jacob’s basement. The night is open for whichever Decker is in town.
“I came to rescue you,” Seth says and tsks. “Who knew it was the guy who needed me to save him from you.”
“Har. Har, har, har.” I glare at him. “We’re all going to forget about this.”
“Or…I’m going to hack into the city’s CCTV system. It should be easy to find the footage where we can see your little stunt. I’ll be streaming it everywhere by Sunday,” Nathan teases me.
“You want to experience it yourself?” I show him my fist. “I can give you a live demonstration.”
“You can try, shorty,” he taunts me.
Mom claps her hands. “There won’t be any demonstrations or fights,” she warns us, pointing at Nathan. “We don’t make fun of people’s height just because you’re a gigantor.”
We all laugh at my petite mom.
I’m not short, but my five-nine seems small compared to my brothers, who are six-five. Not as small as Mom, who is five inches shorter than me. My uncles, her brothers, who are also tall, call her pocket size.
Nathan lifts his arms. “I wouldn’t dare. You’re the boss, lady.” He winks at her.
“Flattery won’t get you anywhere, Nathan Bradley,” she says, and she narrows her gaze at him.
My brother stands up and pulls her into a hug. “I wouldn’t dare to upset you, Mom. If you don’t need me, I’ll be in my room.”
I glare at Nathan and say, “Aren’t you a little too old to be living with Mom and Dad?”
“I’m just twenty-two.” He grabs a yogurt from the fridge and searches for a spoon in the silverware drawer. “Just because you’re some kind of musical freak who likes to go around the world showing off, that doesn’t mean I should do the same.”
“She’s a prodigy, not a freak!” I jolt at the sound of the low baritone voice.
I’d recognize that sound anywhere. Turning around, I find him. Beacon Aldridge. His tall, broad body stands by the kitchen entrance blocking it. His dark hair is cut short on the sides and longish on top. The fringes almost cover his deep green eyes. His black long sleeve T-shirt stretches over his broad chest.
He’s too handsome for his own good.
“Beacon, did you break into the house again?” Mom sighs and shakes her head, looking at the microwave clock. “It’s almost midnight. A little late for visits—or break-ins.”
He gives Mom his signature cheeky grin. “I wouldn’t call it a break-in, as much as I decided not to disturb you guys since it’s late, Mrs. B. I didn’t trigger any alarm.”
He saunters toward Mom and gives her a hug and a kiss. This guy is the one who taught Nathan how to get away with murder when it comes to Mom. Just a sly smile, a hug, and their ass-kissing words.
Nathan grunts. “Great. Dad’s going to add another layer of security to the alarm because someone was able to hack it.”
“You should thank me,” Beacon says. “I’m keeping him entertained and off your case. Have you decided what you’re going to do with your life?”
Nathan mumbles something under his breath and shakes his head.
Seth high fives Beacon. “Since there’s someone to control our criminal, I can leave. Beac, call me tomorrow.” He hugs Mom and kisses her forehead, walking out of the kitchen.
“Hey.” Beacon sits on the barstool next to me and takes a spoonful of yogurt.
“How are you, stranger?” I greet him.
“You’re just the person I am looking for,” he says. “Heard you broke someone’s nose this time. Nothing says, ‘Let’s go steady’ better than a visit to the ER.”
“Shut up!”
He bursts into laughter, and Nathan joins. They begin to mock me. Beacon is a big part of the family, like a brother. He’s been around us ever since I can remember.
His mother and father didn’t want to deal with him, so they gave him to his maternal grandparents who were too old to raise a child. They reached out to my grandfather Gabe. He convinced them to move to Washington, where their grandchild could have a life away from Hollywood and the paparazzi.
While growing up, Mom and Dad filled those places his parents didn’t care to fill, and his grandparents couldn’t because they were too famous and too old. He’s my best friend, but he can also be a pain in the ass. Sometimes he behaves like the big brother I never wanted.
I cross my arms and glare at them both. “Are you done?”
Covering his nose, Beacon nods. “So, what did he do to piss you off?”
“You’re not funny.” I glare at him but tell him what happened. “He came up from behind and covered my eyes. I was outside the coffee shop waiting for him.”
Beacon gasps. “Wait, let me get this straight. He saw a woman alone on the street and he thought covering her eyes was a good idea? What a fucking idiot. Why would he do that?”
I draw air quotes. “To surprise me.” I sigh.
“Well, he got a big surprise, didn’t he? Our Grace isn’t just any woman. She works for the best high intelligence, private security company.” He chuckles. “What did you do?”
“I went into survival mode, and I hit him with my elbow to get away. Then, as I turned, I kicked him in the face while getting ready to run away. He should be glad that I didn’t break any ribs.”
“You’re such a romantic, G,” Beacon teases, but he doesn’t smile.
The tease is just an automatic response. He uses humor to deflect from him or his emotional state. That’s when I realize that there’s something wrong with him. There’s a wave of lingering anger in his eyes.
I’ve been so preoccupied with Jonathan Wilson and the police that I forgot about Beacon. I tried to reach him earlier, before my date. He didn’t respond to any of my calls. He’s supposed to be in London. As a matter of fact, I just realized that he didn’t call at midnight his time zone.