Brady Remington Landed Me in Jail(18)

I narrowed my eyes. "That tractor was going anyway. Just because I'd had a few doesn't mean that's why it rolled."

"Rayna," Brady smirked. "...you were three sheets to the wind. And yes, you rolled the tractor all on your own. The tractor didn't roll itself. And let's not forget who took the blame."

I rolled my eyes, but my cheeks got hot.

"Hey!" Matt Krone rapped his knuckles on the window. "You two getting out or what? I've got a brewsky for you, Brady."

Just like that, my best friend flashed his trademark smile and threw open the door. I was slower, but when I came around to the driver's side, he already had two bottles in his hands and three football players surrounded him. Brady was loved. We all knew that. Everyone else saw the flash, but I was the only one who saw his eyes harden with a warning when our gazes locked.

With a sniff, I turned my back and went inside.

Dr. Cumberly had spared no expense when it came to his home. The kitchen too, with a sink made of marble and the keg right beside it, inside a decorated plastic pool. As I caught sight of another cooler in the dining room, I headed in that direction. And just as I bent down and retrieved a vodka drink, a pair of tan golden legs stopped right beside me. A lot of girls had pink frosted toenails, but my guess was on one person and I looked up to Clarissa. She had a smirk on her face that made her look even sexier, sultry even.

"Your boy is in rare form." Unlike my boring camisole and blue jeans, Clarissa wore a pink-frilled tank top over her miniskirt that rode low on her hips. Her hair had been curled and hung down her back from an elegant pony-tail.

I gulped, self-conscious, as my fingers raised and felt my own hair. I had put it up in a braid, but I knew I'd never be as glamorous as Clarissa Cumberly.

"Yeah."

"Look, you're on duty tonight. Do not let him get out of hand. I don't want Deputy Dog coming here." She flicked her eyes over my shoulder. The look switched to a warm welcome when I heard Brady's voice fill the house, followed by a mass of hellos, cheers, and catcalls in the air.

Brady Remington had arrived.

"He looks good," Clarissa murmured underneath her breath.

I turned and had to agree.

The ripped jeans accentuated his bad boy image, but it was the tight black tee shirt and the tattoo covering his left arm that sealed the deal. I wasn't prudish enough not to admit that with his hair gelled into tiny spikes Brady looked adorable on one hand and dangerous on the other.

"Listen…" Clarissa shifted closer. "Kid and his cousin might be coming tonight. If they do, I don't care whose skirt Brady's in, keep him distracted so that the guys can get rid of them, okay?"

I shrugged, but it didn't matter. She'd given the order and I was expected to jump. As I watched her move off to greet him, I knew that I'd do what was best for Brady. As Clarissa arched her head up for a kiss from him, I turned and twisted open my drink.

I had my first taste of alcohol in five years.

I scrunched up my nose in surprise. It tasted like lemonade, but with a slight kick to it. Smiling, I realized that I might enjoy these drinks. Maybe I would get drunk…no. I had no intentions of getting drunk. I just wanted a reaction from Brady and it worked, but he looked like he no longer cared, smiling down Clarissa's top as she was pressed against his chest.

I rolled my eyes and took another drink. And I kept sipping on it as I moved around the house. Anything larger than my grandparent's two stories with two and a half bedrooms impressed me. By the time I found the stairs that led to the basement, I was surprised to find my lemonade empty so I passed by the cooler and grabbed another one. Brady was in the kitchen, but I ducked around a group and headed down the stairs.

Silence. No one was down there. It was wonderful.

When I circled around the stairs, I found my heaven. A bookcase traveled the entire length of the wall…and it was filled, overly filled, with books.

I sank down on one of the leather couches, dazed, as I could only stare at the books. Historical textbooks. Encyclopedias. Romance novels. Mystery novels. Cookbooks. There were books on every subject from gardening to astronomy. I shot out from the couch and grabbed as many as I could. Before long, the books were piled all around me. Some were on the couch. Some were on the floor. Some were on the counter beside the couch. Some were even on the other couches. My only regret, as I groaned when I lifted the bottle, was that my lemonade was empty again.

I paused from my reading, glanced upwards and weighed the options. I could sneak up and grab more, but something might happen. I'd get stuck up there. Or I could stay and enjoy reading sans lemonade. The Dinosaurs of Pre-Extinction or a refreshing taste of lemonade?

Call me a blossoming lush. I was going for another lemonade. Just another thing on my list to confess the next day, but He'd forgive me. Let's hope. When my foot touched the stairs I heard muffled laughter behind the door.

I wavered.

The Mussaurus might not be the actual smallest dinosaur in the world, but with the lemonade I wouldn't care. I'd still vote for the mouse lizard.

"Yo, man!"

"Brady—oh my effing God, man!"

My fingers clenched around the wooden stair rail when I heard Brady's muffled laugh through the door. Here we were, best friends, and where was I? Where was he? Not in the same room, that was for sure. Then the door flew open and Matt Krone stumbled above the stairs. He readied himself and squinted down at me. "I win, dude. I found her!" Laughing, he pointed at me and someone pounded him on the shoulder. Three more drunken faces peered over his shoulder and then Brady pushed them out of the way. He crossed his arms. "Whatcha doing, Ray?"