When I Need You, Page 23

  Yeah, I could see that.

  “Besides, we’re pregaming here with one beer,” Ash said. He spared my sweaty workout shorts and tank top a quick look. “Then we’re going out.”

  Don’t groan and whine that you just got home.

  “Hit the shower and dress casual—in anything besides athletic clothes with a Vikings logo,” Nolan advised.

  Nolan had a hard-on for fashion in a totally hetero way. He was a Lund Industries executive and his daily uniform was a suit, so his idea of “dress casual” differed from mine. Even slouched on my sofa he maintained an aura of cool sophistication. He wore dark denim and a slim-cut, pale blue shirt with a subtle stripe; the cuffs had a contrasting checked pattern in red. His loafers were funky-unique without being eye-rollingly weird. His style was on trend but not like he was trying too hard to be hip. Or worse, dressing like a hipster, attempting to convince others a stupid fashion statement looked cool.

  My feeling of fashion inferiority arose. I’d never developed a sense of style, mostly because I hadn’t needed to. I spent eighty percent of my time in workout gear or in uniform. I’d hired Brady’s tailor to craft custom suits for me—a guy my size couldn’t just buy off the rack—but my closet sorely lacked clothing for casual social occasions such as this.

  “Stop staring at him,” Ash said to me. “Nolan is already full of himself.”

  My gaze moved to Ash. As COO at Lund Industries, Ash also lived the suit-and-tie existence. His off-the-clock style was preppy outdoorsman. In terms of cars, I thought of Nolan as sleek and showy like a Ferrari. And Ash—understated power, a workhorse in stealth mode like a Viper.

  “It takes less effort than you think to look this good. One session with my personal shopper will change your life, Jens. Trust me on this.”

  Maybe the time had come. It wouldn’t kill me to care about my appearance. Since Nolan had repeatedly offered to help me create a polished—more grown-up—look, I’d be an idiot to say no.

  I toasted him with my beer bottle. “You know what? I’m in. Set up something this week.”

  Nolan’s jaw might’ve hit his knee.

  Ash laughed. “I didn’t see that one coming. Apparently, neither did Nolan.”

  “Fuck off, Ash. Give me a moment to bask.” Nolan leaned in. “You’re not screwing with me?”

  “No. I look like a bum most of the time. I don’t know what kind of clothes I like because I’ve never thought about it. Annika’s always helped me, but it’s weird to ask her now that she’s married.” I shrugged. “Hiring a professional to help me is the smartest option. Especially if you trust him.”

  A moment of silence passed. Both my older cousins assessed me.

  Finally Ash said, “Who’s the woman?”

  I blinked at him. “What?”

  “Gotta be a woman you’re trying to impress if you’re willing to deal with Jacques, the personal shopper from hell.”

  “Sorry to disappoint, but it’s not for a woman.” Not entirely.

  “Why now?”

  “I’ll be in the spotlight for the first time in over a year during training camp with interviews. I should take that part of the job seriously and look professional.”

  “Speaking of jobs . . . why didn’t you ask either one of us for help at this LCCO summer camp?” Ash said.

  “You even asked my jock brother—who’s never progressed from drawing hockey stick figures—to lend a hand,” Nolan said.

  “Whoa. I didn’t ask Jax. When he registered Mimi on Monday and saw Lucy, he informed me that he was sticking around. Last thing I need is him harassing her, so I told him the only way he could be on the premises was if he joined the staff as the janitor.”

  Nolan laughed. “Bet that went over well.” He paused. “But I don’t see you sporting a black eye for the suggestion.”

  “That’s because Jaxson ‘Stonewall’ Lund is the custodial engineer and number-one gopher—a little U of M humor there—for Camp Step-Up.”

  “Get out.”

  “It was his only option. I won’t roll over for a fucking hockey player,” I sneered, “even if he is my cousin. My LCCO project, my rules.”

  Silence.

  Then Nolan pointed at the sliding glass door. “Is everyone hiding out there getting this on video?”

  I looked at Ash and he shrugged. “What are you talking about, Nolan?”

  “I’m being pranked, right? That’s the only explanation for the bizarre things that have transpired in the last ten minutes.”

  “No prank. After I meet with your shopper I’ll give you competition for the most stylishly dressed Lund. As far as Jax . . . fun fact. He wields a mop as well as a hockey stick.” I smirked. “I dropped a urinal cake on the floor just to see if he’d take the shot.”

  Ash burst out laughing in a way I hadn’t heard in a long time. “This is gonna be some fun tonight.”

  “You guys haven’t told me where we’re going.” Nolan and Ash exchanged another look. I hated that secretive shit. “No strip clubs.”

  “It’s not a strip club. It’s a pub.”

  “No, it’s a sports bar,” Nolan said.

  “Name a sports bar that has karaoke,” Ash demanded.

  “Guys. No offense, but no matter what you call it, it doesn’t sound like a place I wanna go.”

  “Tough shit. We’re going there because we own it.”

  After a beat of silence, I laughed. “Am I being pranked now?”

  Nolan shook his head. “Short version. During Jax’s drinking days, he invested in a bar with one of his puck bunnies. After he sobered up, he realized running a bar was no longer a retirement option. The partnership contract is a mess. But the bottom line is he can’t sell his half. His partner can’t sell hers. They’re stuck, so Ash and I are acting partners on Jax’s behalf. We’re trying to establish a decent working relationship with Simone, the partner. There is potential to turn the bar into something unique and profitable; we just don’t know what that is yet.”

  “This puck bunny . . . ?”

  “Is no dumb bunny,” Nolan said. “She’s been running the bar as is, and it’s her sole source of income. She sank all of her retirement funds into it. We’ve had the Lund legal team look into the contract and it’s nothing like they’ve ever seen. She was just as much a victim as Jax.”

  “What’s this Simone chick like?”

  “A ball-buster who carries a grudge against athletes.”

  Great.

  “Get moving, we wanna show off our soon-to-be hippest bar in the Cities.”

  “Do we drink free since you own it?”

  Ash snorted. “It doesn’t work that way.”

  “While you’re showering, I’m going through your closet,” Nolan said. “You will wear the clothing I lay out for you.”

  I stood. Best not to argue. But I sure as hell was scoring at least one free drink for my trouble tonight.

  • • •

  I emerged from my bedroom fifteen minutes later.

  Both Ash and Nolan stared at me.

  Then Ash peeled a fifty from his money clip and handed it over to Nolan.

  “What was that about?”

  “Ash is pissy because I nailed your style—Men’s Health meets Abercrombie—on the first try. He said you’d ignore my suggestion and wear a hoodie and jeans.”

  “Like The Rocket needed more fuel. Jesus, Nolan, he looks a million times better. You’ve created a monster.”

  I’d been skeptical of the “look” Nolan had put together for me. My navy suit pants with the subtle gray stripe, which had a slimmer cut—but nowhere near skinny jean territory because I’d never found a pair that’d fit over my thighs. Without the matching suit jacket, the pants could pass for jeans. Nolan had picked one of my shiny, skintight sleeveless workout shirts in electric blue. The bottom hung long enough to cover the waistband so I could skip the belt. I hated having my arms exposed, so I’d been relieved to slip on a collarless warm-up jacket in light gray cotton—more fashion th
an function since it didn’t have pockets or a hood—but it looked dressier than it was paired with the pants. I’d ditched the tasseled loafers Nolan had chosen in favor of my Sperry Top-Sider boots.

  The result of all this fussing? I did look damn good. Most importantly, I looked like me, not like I was trying to fit into someone else’s skin—and clothes.

  “Thanks for rearranging the packaging,” I said to Nolan. “I’ll grab a hat and we can go.”

  “No hat, Jens.”

  I faced him. “I have to wear a hat.”

  “It’s a habit,” Nolan argued. “A hat doesn’t mask you as well as you think it does, especially if it’s sporting a football team’s logo.”

  “Since my injury I only wear team gear when I’m required to. But I always wear a hat in public. Always.”

  “When was the last time you were recognized?”

  “Wednesday. I ran to the convenience store by the school to grab a package of Oreos for snack time and some chick snapped a pic of me. Later the Twitter caption said, ‘The Rocket can put his hand—or his whole face—in my cookie jar anytime he wants.’” I paused. “Oh, and I was recognized . . . because I wasn’t wearing a hat.”

  “Give it up, Nolan,” Ash said. “We’ve been out with him enough times to know when he gets recognized, he gets mobbed and it’s not fun.”

  Three knocks sounded on my door. My gaze winged from Ash to Nolan. “Did you invite Brady and Walker?”

  “Uh. No.”

  I opened the door.

  Rowan stood on the other side.

  Not the Rowan I saw every day. This Rowan wore a dress that exposed her long neck, smooth shoulders and a great deal of great cleavage. This Rowan was taller in the leopard-print stilettos. This Rowan had softly curled hair, bright red lips and some smoky-colored stuff on her eyelids that hinted those hazel eyes held all kinds of dirty secrets.

  I’d been so busy eyeballing her that I hadn’t noticed she’d been doing the same thing to me.

  At the time I said, “What the hell, Coach?” Rowan said, “Damn, Lund.”

  Nolan said, “Who’s at the door?” before he barged in next to me.

  I watched him leer at her—the fucking pervert. Starting at the tips of her red toenails in those sexy-ass shoes, up her shins, pausing to gawk at her muscular thighs where the hem of the black dress ended. Then up over her curvy hips, briefly taking in the nipped-in shape of her waist, lingering way-too-fucking-long on those sweet tits, to finally rest on the breathtaking beauty of her face.

  “Hello, gorgeous,” he murmured in that seductive tone. “Hey. I know you. You cheer for the Vikings.”

  Jesus, really? Even Nolan had noticed Rowan?

  Not everyone is as blind as you, dude.

  Well, the blinders had come off and it was on.

  “Actually, you’re the best cheerleader they’ve got,” he continued. Then he elbowed me out of the way—seriously, he elbowed me out of my own damn doorway to get to her—and offered his hand and a charming smile. “Nolan Lund.”

  “My much older cousin,” I inserted, and gave him a little shove out of the way. Okay, maybe not such a little shove because he had to catch himself on the wall.

  But I only had eyes for her.

  With my hands gripping the inside of the doorframe so I wouldn’t get all grabby-handed with her, I said, “You.”

  “Uh. What about me?”

  “You’re so smokin’ hot you’ve shorted out the logic center of my brain.” Letting my arms bear my forward weight, I leaned close enough to her to take a bite out of that full lower lip. “That pretty, perfect red mouth of yours. Christ. It’s like a beacon luring me in.”

  She cocked her head. “How many shots of tequila have you had?”

  “None.” I grinned at her. “Seeing you is a shot of pure sexual adrenaline, baby.”

  “Jens, man, give it a rest.” Nolan yanked me backward—the dude was way stronger than he looked. “Forgive my cousin’s manners, he plays with his balls for a living.” Nolan stepped into the hallway. “I didn’t catch your name, Red Hot.”

  “It’s Rowan Michaels.”

  Just then Ash sidestepped me. “Rowan!” He whistled. “Been a long time, but, doll face, you look as spectacular as ever.”

  Of course freakin’ Ash knew Rowan too.

  “Thanks, Ash. Good to see you again.” Her gaze zipped between the three of us. “Lotta Lunds in one place.”

  “We’re on our way out.” Ash smiled at her. “But there’s always room for a gorgeous lady.” He accorded her hot, sexy body an appreciative once-over. “Come out with us. Unless you already had plans.”

  Rowan regarded me for a moment. “Actually, it appears my plans fell through. My son is having an overnight at a friend’s house and I’m—”

  “In luck because you’re coming out with us,” Nolan said.

  “Where are you going?”

  “A bar downtown,” I said. “So if it’s not your thing—”

  “Maybe it is my thing,” she retorted. “Give me a minute to grab my phone and my purse and I’ll be right back.”

  As soon as her apartment door closed, I had Nolan crowded against the wall. “Rowan is off-fucking-limits. You touch her? You’ll need your tailor to sew pieces of your body back together, not just your suit. Feel me?”

  “Et tu, Jensen?” Nolan sighed. “Fine. I get it.”

  “Mr. Men’s-Health-meets-Abercrombie off the radar leaves more ladies for us, Nolan.”

  “True.” To me, he said, “Go grab the hat you insist on wearing. And your keys. Rowan can ride with me. Ash can copilot for you.”

  I didn’t want Rowan riding with Nolan.

  Nolan got in my face. “I’d never poach.”

  “I know that. It’s just . . . this is new, all right? I don’t know what I’m doing with her.”

  “It appears whatever you’re doing is working. Red Hot couldn’t keep her eyes off you.” He sighed. “And it pains me to say this, but I don’t think it has a damn thing to do with how much better you’re dressed tonight.”

  • • •

  Just to be a smart-ass I grabbed an Abercrombie ball cap I’d never worn.

  The bar was located in the Mill District in a cool three-story brick building, sandwiched between two other brick buildings. The sign above the door to the bar read BORDERLINE in vintage pink neon. Before we went in, I snagged Ash by the arm. “If you decide to renovate, call Walker. This is his dream project.”

  “Already on our radar,” he said.

  On the way to the bar, Ash hadn’t tried to give me advice about Rowan, which I appreciated. If my siblings had seen the interaction between Rowan and me, I’d get an earful.

  My thoughts scrolled back to the conversation with Dallas when she’d mentioned her concern about Ash. Maybe he put up a great front, but he didn’t act miserable. In fact, he seemed more relaxed than usual.

  He caught me staring at him. His eyes narrowed. “What’d she say to you?”

  Maybe he’d inherited the same sensory perception as Dallas. “She indicated you’d been living a ‘joyless existence,’ which seemed a harsh assessment, but I didn’t push her for details. I figured if you wanted us to know, you’d tell us.” I pinned him with a hard look. “Right? No one has to be an island in this family. Thought we established that after everything went down with Jaxson.”

  Ash scrubbed his hands over his face. “We did. And I appreciate the reminder. It’s why Nolan and I showed up at your place tonight. Not to sound like whiny pussies, but we felt out of the loop with this camp thing. Everyone else was involved. That’s also when Nolan and I realized we’d been secretive about this bar to protect Jax. Turns out, Jax doesn’t care. So you’re the first Lund we’ve brought