He is pure magic. The world is going to fall in love with him. You finding him is going to save his life.
Connor’s breath caught in his throat, which was useful to silence the scoff he nearly uttered.
If he didn’t have to remain silent, he would have tersely informed her that was bullshit. Oscar was going to save his own damn self. Connor had merely turned Oscar’s shoulders so that he now stood facing the direction of his destiny. And more importantly, Connor wasn’t a saver of lives. Every opportunity with which he’d been presented to save a life had ended in tragedy. He couldn’t save his brothers-in-arms. Couldn’t save Morales.
And because of every failure on his part to save those various lives, Connor couldn’t save Liza from whatever had beat her into oblivion and snuffed out the life inside her.
18
Louis Armstrong Park, New Orleans
The Crescent City was approaching the hottest day of the year, and the temperatures on this particular Saturday were breaking records left and right. Still feeling a bit puny two weeks after her bout with a random summer flu, Liza was grateful she’d had the good sense to forego professional clothing in favor of a thin cotton sundress with spaghetti straps that was mostly white other than a few large purple flowers here and there. Stifling as the weather was, the real heat emanated from the stage of the Cajun Zydeco Festival and the hundreds of bodies twirling and dancing on the green lawn. Drinks were sloshing, and people of all ages were laughing, shouting, and singing along with the music.
A brass band was closing out its set, and Liza carefully plodded along in her wedge sandals. She and Brennan weaved through the mass of humanity toward the area flanking the stage, and he shook a sweaty bottle of Gatorade at her.
“You need to drink this, L.,” he said for the third time since they’d left the talent coordinator’s makeshift office at the front of the park, which was a tent amidst a sea of a dozen others. “You’re going to pass out if you’re not well-hydrated.”
“I’m fine, B.” She ducked out of the way of a pair of lovers twirling around on the lawn and screeched to a halt to avoid knocking over a toddler whose face was painted like a Mardi Gras unicorn. “I drank a whole bottle with my breakfast. I’m plenty hydrated.”
“The point of hydrating is continuing to hydrate.” Brennan snagged her wrist and pressed the bottle into her palm. “Quit being so damn stubborn.”
“You need to quit fussing over me.” To placate him, she unscrewed the lid and took a small sip. She and Brennan now had a tight-as-hell friendship, but Liza didn’t exactly feel like explaining the real reason she didn’t want to drink the Gatorade—which was her vehement refusal to use a port-o-potty when nature inevitably called. She would just do her best to hold her pee until she got home. In the meantime, she certainly wasn’t going to contribute to making the waiting worse.
He pursed his lips. “More than that.”
“Brennan Atticus Riley,” she warned, using his full name to purposefully sound like his mother, “you are bossyA.F.”
“Elizabeth Catherine Hardin,” he countered, still holding her wrist. He pushed his limo-tinted sunglasses up to perch on top of his tousled hair. “You are stubbornA.F., and you’re still getting over the flu.”
Liza pulled her arm out of his grasp and was screwing the lid back on when someone slammed into her back and caused her to slam into Brennan’s solid torso. The back-and-forth jolt of the collision threw her off balance in her wedge heels, and she nearly tumbled to the grass.
Brennan caught her with an arm wrapped around her waist and grabbed the collar of the drunken guy who had collided with them. “Hey, watch it, bruh. There’s kids all over the place, and you nearly knocked this lady over.”
The guy gave a sloshed guffaw and a, “Sorry,”as Brennan released his collar. He stumbled away, tripping over his feet and nearly slamming into one of the twirling couples.
Brennan wrapped both arms around Liza’s waist, steadying her as she found her footing again and holding her flush against him. He scowled at the drunk guy for a second and then looked down at her. “You alright, honey?”
With her palm firmly braced against his chest, Liza looked up at him and stilled. They were suddenly staring at each other, and something about it felt…funny.
Something had shifted in Brennan’s expression, and Liza had a sudden, awkward awareness that herabsurdly attractiveplatonic friend was still just that—an absurdly attractive man.Andhe was holding her against him like they were just another of the dancing couples in the crowd. Given the heat, Brennan wasn’t wearing his typical tailored suit and silk tie, rather he was just in jeans and a fitted, gray t-shirt that clung to his large, sculpted physique—a physique that Liza had never even really noticed until now.
Even though he’d merely caught her to keep her from falling, the embrace and the shared look were suddenlyveryawkward. His face was angled over hers, and her chin was tilted upward, and the whole thing felt like something it wasn’t. Brennan was looking at her like…she wasn’t even sure what it was, but it only added to the unprecedented awkwardness.
As if her own face reflected the sudden awkwardness, Brennan hastily removed his hold on her and took a large step away.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, sliding the sunglasses back down over his eyes, and then he continued dodging dancers as he marched toward the stage.
Liza began following him at a distance, brows crinkling at the weirdness of itwhile she followed him tothe side of the stage where the group was waiting. Oscar stood with Jimmy and Connor, and Oscar intermittently bounced up and down on the balls of his feet as he shook his limbs.
“That’s a really big crowd,” Oscar said, observing the sea of people out of a nervous side eye.
“Big crowd, small crowd, doesn’t make a difference.” Jimmy straightened Oscar’s tie and pinstripe vest, giving his shoulders a brush, and he looked like the proud papa of his son about to get hitched, as if the two were waiting in the wings for a wedding. “Crowds love you. This is your natural habitat. You know that. Don’t get all stuck in your head.”
Connor slapped Oscar’s shoulder. “Yeah, just pretend we’re at Vaughn’s, and they got an outdoor makeover.” He gestured at the crowd. “Honestly, this is about how many people normally show up at Vaughn’s. It just looks like more ‘cuz they’re all spread out.”
Oscar laughed heartily. “Connor, you’re full of shit.”
Brennan hastily snatched the Gatorade bottle out of Liza’s hand and shoved it against Connor’s chest as he slid his shades up over his hair. “Make her drink this,” he said gruffly. “I’ve got my own pretty little thing waiting over by the drink tent, and I can’t keep babysitting yours.”
