Brady Remington Landed Me in Jail

"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?"

Clarissa poked her head around the door. "My dad's book collection is down there. I bet she was reading."

"My girl wouldn't choose books over me…would she?"

As I passed by him, I replied under my breath, "You tell me."

Brady stopped chuckling and shot me a dark look.

Clarissa laughed. "You should be asking who'd choose books over drinking? That's what you should be asking." The rest of the party agreed as a chorus sounded out with raised cups.

Brady tucked an arm around my waist and pulled me snug against him. Lowering his head, he breathed into my ear, "We're playing a game. Come play with us. It'll be fun."