“Lilah,” Adam said. “This is-”
“Brady Miller,” she murmured.
Brady’s mouth curved in a slight ironic smile, his eyes lit with the same. He bowed his head slightly in her direction. “Lilah.”
Dell divided a surprised look between them. “You two know each other?”
Brady lifted a brow in Lilah’s direction, clearly giving her the floor.
Great. She hated having the floor. “Well, it’s a funny story, actually.” She managed a weak smile. “We, um”-she lifted a shoulder-“had a little run-in this morning.”
Brady was hands in pockets, rolled back on his heels. He was obviously enjoying himself, the bastard, and damn if something deep within her didn’t react to all that annoying charisma and male confidence.
“You had a little run-in,” Dell repeated, and shook his head. “What does that mean exactly?”
“It means… ”
“Explain,” Adam said. No words were ever wasted when Adam spoke.
“Literally,” she said. “I ran into him. As in, I hit his truck with my Jeep.”
Brady’s mouth twitched, though his eyes remained sharp.
But not as sharp as those on the two men that Lilah thought of as her brothers as they took in both Lilah and Brady, more specifically Brady and the way he was looking at her.
Which was a little bit how a tiger might eye his prey after a long, cold, hungry winter.
Oh good Lord. She definitely hadn’t put on enough deodorant for this. And even more unsettling? Just this morning she’d have sworn she was completely happy and settled with her life. Sure she was overworked and stressed and about an inch from financial disaster at all times, and yeah, she’d been battling that vague sense of loneliness, but compared to lots of people she had things good.
So she couldn’t explain this new restlessness.
But then her gaze locked with Brady and she had to revise. She could explain.
It was all his fault.
Four
B rady had been to every continent. He could speak three languages enough to get by and could understand a handful more. Over the years he’d amassed a whole host of skills-some he was proud of, some not so much. He’d seen a lot of shit. Hell, he’d done a lot of shit.
So he knew when to back off and let a situation take its course.
This was one of those times.
The reason he was here was complicated, and went back years, to old ties he hadn’t even realized he still had. He’d been given up by his too-young, drug-dependent mother when he’d been five to a distant uncle not all that keen on kids. By the time he’d gotten to his teens, he’d been downgraded to group foster homes. He’d been a puny, scrawny runt, and an easy mark.
Until he’d landed at Sol Anders’s.
Sol had been a badass cowboy and a large-animal vet. With him, Brady had been given two things he’d never had before-acceptance and an outlet for his anger. There’d been a gym in Sol’s basement, specifically a punching bag, and Sol had encouraged Brady to make good use of it.
Later, two more “lost boys” had come along to be under Sol’s care. They’d all lived together for two years before Brady graduated high school a year early and went into the army.
Adam and Dell.
By the time Sol died in a freak riding accident a few years later-on a wild mustang in Montana while gathering a herd for the government-Brady had been a pro at survival and winning his fights. He went on to serve multiple tours with the army, which is where he’d learned to fly anything with an engine, working in some college in between.
All with Sol’s solid memory guiding him.
He’d been well aware that Sol had left some money, that he’d divided it among the three lost boys; himself, Adam, and Dell. But Brady had refused to take his share. He hadn’t needed it. So he’d signed it over to Dell and Adam and had continued with his wanderlust lifestyle while they’d bought this land and built the animal center. Made a life for themselves.
They’d put Brady’s name on the deed to the land, which he hadn’t known. And now they were in the black this year and wanted Brady to be a part of it.
Brady didn’t have the same wants. He didn’t have a need for either a place to call home or the money Dell and Adam felt they owed him.
They’d known that and had come at him with a dangling carrot, something he’d found he couldn’t quite resist-a helicopter that needed restoring and the chance to, for however briefly, fly in the good old safe USA.
It was nice what they’d done to honor their brief history together from a million years ago, one that had involved stolen candy, pilfered porn, and many late nights sneaking out on their bikes… But there was no doubt in Brady’s mind that Lilah’s history with them went far deeper.
So he let the drama unfold, fascinated in spite of himself.
“Is that why you walked over here instead of driving?” Adam asked Lilah, voice low so that the patients and their owners, just around the corner waiting to see Dell, couldn’t hear. “Because you had an accident?”
Adam’s voice was curt and gruff. And though not as obviously dark-skinned and dark-eyed as Dell, he was dark in persona and could be as intimidating as hell.
Except Lilah didn’t seem intimidated.
At all.
“It’s a half mile,” she said. “Good exercise.”
“Uh-huh. Except you hate exercise.”
“Maybe my jeans are tight and I needed to burn the calories,” she said. “And to be honest, it wasn’t an accident so much as a little oops. It could have happened to anyone.”
Brady choked out a cough, and she sent him a dark look before turning back to Adam. “And maybe we can review my stupidity later because I’m really busy today.”
One corner of Adam’s mouth turned up. “Really? We can discuss your stupidity later? Do you promise? Because normally you hate discussing your stupidity.”
Lilah shoved him with the ease of two people extremely comfortable with each other, and extremely familiar.
Brady studied them both for hints of sexual tension, wondering if they were lovers as well as friends.
Lilah shoved Adam again. Adam didn’t budge. Instead he caught her up, wrapped an arm around her neck and hauled her in close, rubbing his knuckles against her head until she swore at him and slugged him in the gut.
Nope, Brady decided. Definitely not lovers. This was definitely a brother-sister relationship.
Dumbass. She’d just called Adam, six feet of solid muscle, a dumbass.
“It’s the only bad word she knows,” Adam said, sidestepping another shove. “Probably time to learn something new, Trouble.”
Lilah straightened her shoulders and gave a little toss of her head, like she couldn’t be bothered with details. “Listen, while this is ever so much fun, I have two puppies, a piglet, two cats, a lamb, and a duck boarding today. I need to get back to it. Where’s the rescue dog?”
“Pen three,” Dell said. “Male, grown, neutered, mutt. Heads up-he was abandoned in a warehouse and, as far as we can tell, hit by a car.”
Brady watched the undisguised emotions chase each other across Lilah’s face. Horror, sorrow, determination. “Injuries?” she asked.
“Herniated diaphragm,” Dell said. “And yes, I operated. Fixed him right up.”
All the worry drained from her and she smiled sweetly at Dell, heart in her eyes. “How bad’s the monetary
