Page 124 of Torrid Passion
CHAPTER 23
Lochlan
Kicking off the weekend by enjoying a finely-marbled steak, flame-cooked to perfection, is the only way to go. Add to that a sweeping seaside view overlooking the Pacific Ocean, and stiff cocktails, and life is good.
Jace, Jagger, Beckett and I had made plans weeks ago to hook-up at the end of the day. Sure, we all live close to each other, but the reality is we’re all busy. This is our chance to catch up. Meat on Ocean in Santa Monica is one of the best steak houses in LA and one of our favorite restaurants.
“Friday night with my boys. Nothing beats that,” Beckett says.
“Nothing,” Jace affirms.
“Especially after a long week,” I say.
“It’s been areallylong week for me,” Jagger says, shaking his head.
“Why are you complaining?” Jace asks. “You live in your head and you work from your home-studio.” Jagger is one of the best songwriters in the industry. “It’s not like you have to contend with LA traffic.”
“Thanks, Mr. Know It All,” Jagger sneers. “Bree has been askinga lotof questions.”
Translation, Bridgette, his twelve-year-old daughter is curious about the birds and bees. Again. She goes to an all-girls’ school, and we all know, girls talk.
“She isn’t allowed to go on Google, but some of her friends have older sisters… active older sisters,” Jagger explains.
“Oh, shoot,” Beckett sympathizes.
“Ouch,” I say.
“Yeah, my preteen daughter is becoming a handful,” Jagger nods slowly.
“Thank God I have a boy,” Jace says.
“Can it not be about you for a minute?” Jagger snaps at his younger brother.
“Sorry,” Jace says sheepishly.
Both Jace and Jagger are single dads. And they’re constantly bucking heads. The Halsey brothers spar back and forth like it’s nobody’s business. Don’t let the bickering fool you, there’s a lot of love between them.
Jace and Jagger Halsey are my cousins on Dad’s side. Their mom is one of Dad’s older sisters. Holt and Beckett Christensen are their cousins on their dad’s side. Their mom is the Halsey boys’ dad’s baby sister. I know it’s a little confusing. Basically, the Christensen brothers and I are cousins of cousins. Since Jace and Beckett were in one of the biggest rock bands of our time and I was their roadie for the duration of their career, we grew up together. I consider Beckett like a cousin and I know it’s mutual. The same for Holt. They both view Harlow as their kid cousin. We’re all really close. Jagger is much older than us, but Jace, Beckett and I are close in age and we’re best friends.
“Speaking of my kid,” Jagger says. “What’s up with all those photos of you and Kyla O’Keeffe all over the internet?”
“Photos?” I ask, surprised.
I’m still manning the office alone since Rod is in Miami. Surfing the net wasn’t on my list of priorities today.
“Bree couldn’t wait to check out the post-gala fashion recaps after school while she was having her snack. She couldn’t stop talking about Uncle Loki and a really, really, really pretty lady. She didn’t recognize your baby sister’s best friend, but the second she pointed the iPad at me, I did.”
“Kyla O’Keeffe is back in town?” Beckett asks, his curiosity piqued.
“Really pretty…” Jace says absentmindedly, grabbing his phone. “What event was it again?”
“Dryden Bellow’sComing Homegala,” Jagger answers.
Jace taps on his screen. “Jesus Christ have mercy!” he says a little too loud. “That’s little Kyla O’Keeffe? There’s nothing little about her anymore. Holy hot tamale!”
I don’t say a word.
Beckett grabs Jace’s wrist, pulling the phone to his face. “Fuck me,” he says. “Hot tamale, indeed. That’s Kyla O’Keeffe?” His eyes meet mine. I don’t grant him an answer, instead I clench my teeth together. “She’s smoking hot. Did you notice?”
