Like the Back of My Halo

By Heidi Hutchinson

Travel, teamwork, and tacos.
That’s what it was supposed to be.
Not feelings, frenching, and fistfights.

Halo—or Lo to her friends—was ready for something big. A nomad by birthright and surfer by choice, she jumps at the chance to leave her day job and compete for a major sponsorship. But there happens to be a catch.

Brady Samson—Lo’s new teammate and travel companion is none other than the handsome stranger she might have made-out with during a recent magical evening.

Can they keep things professional while in romantic and exotic places? Or will the small spark they started grow into something worth fighting for?

Like the Back of My Halo is the first book in the Soaring Bird series but can be read as a standalone.
PG17 for language, mild heat, an annoying ex, and unexpected moments of personal bravery.
Prepare yourself for feelings.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Heidi Hutchinson
• Release date: Aug 30, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311289674

Heidi Hutchinson

Heidi writes stories that she hopes will inspire her readers to take their hearts on one more adventure.She still lives in the Black Hills with her alarmingly handsome husband, their fearless child, and a rather large and spoiled dog.She is fueled by her unwavering and perfectly normal devotion to Dave Grohl and coffee.And a whole lotta love.

Book preview

ONE

BRADY

Was Brady Samson willing to die for tacos?

No.

Actually, he was not. 

As evidenced by the fact he was hauling ass up the beach to Bo's truck, the loose arms of his wetsuit slapping against his legs.

It wasn't a situation he had ever considered facing. But when his brother had brought him the best tacos he'd ever had for breakfast that morning, he should've really anticipated the catch that came with it.

C'mon! Bo shouted. Leave the board!

Brady let go of the surfboard under his arm. It clattered to the gravel of their large driveway and he ground his teeth together as he swung into the passenger seat of his brother's brand new Dodge Ram truck. 

They were fleeing. From their home.

Or, at least, the private beach which was basically their home's backyard.

Here's what he should've been asking: Was Brady finally going to die because of his brother's misguided life choices?

Now there was a question he was afraid to have answered.

What the hell, Bo? he asked, as Bo backed out of his parking spot, gravel flying. Brady gripped the open window of the truck as it spun around. His eyes collided with angry blue ones and amused green ones—their pursuers, and the reason he'd run like his ass was on fire.

His gaze darted to the empty windows of the two story beach house. Kip and Steve were at work and therefore missing everything. What Brady wouldn't give to be at work right now.

Bo's wicked laugh brought Brady around to glare at his younger brother.

What do I need to know about the tacos, Bo? Brady asked quietly, his stomach pausing in its digestive efforts.

Bo wagged his head back and forth and glanced in the rear view again.

Brady closed his eyes and prayed for patience. What does that mean? 

I'm not sure who made them. Exactly.

Brady took in a slow, deep breath. He wasn't supposed to punch his brother anymore. They weren't fourteen, they were adults. They handled things like grownups now. He chose his next words carefully, saying them with as little inflection as he could manage.

Where did you get them?

Bo shrugged. I found them.

Found them.

Bo pressed his lips together as he rethought his story, still not looking at Brady. I promised you breakfast, but I'd slept in. So, I was headed out to get some donuts or something quick and I... He paused, cleared his throat. Found a bag of tacos.

Worst case scenarios raced through Brady's head and his stomach spasmed painfully.

I knew it. I knew my death would ultimately be your fault.

Bo turned to him and scoffed. C'mon. It's not like I found them in a dumpster. They were fresh. For sure. Nothing to fear. He was completely unconcerned with their possibly drug, botulism, and AIDS laced status. Why else would people be chasing them down? 

How can you be so sure? Brady asked, sweat beading along his neck. Was it suddenly a lot hotter? No, it must be the fever. Did drugs give you a fever? 

Bo rolled his eyes. Trust me.

Brady didn't want to trust Bo. Trusting Bo usually meant he was going to get violently ill or get his ass kicked. He was about to point that out when Bo shrugged one shoulder and a mysterious smile curled the corners of his mouth. 

Remember in high school, the girl who hated me? Bo asked.

A memory activated in Brady's mind. Those insanely angry blue eyes they had fled moments before.

I remember you terrorizing a girl in your class because she had a different kind of a name, Brady said, feeling the panic subside and heavy disappointment in his brother settle in his stomach beside the tacos.

Bo rejected that memory with a sneer. Uh, no. She terrorized me.

That is not how I remember it, Brady said, pulling at the seat belt and realizing that if the tacos didn't kill him, his brother's driving was going to.

Whatever. She had a stupid name. Spencer Clementine? What kind of a name is that?

Yep. The angry blue eyes had a name. One he hadn't heard in a few years but came with a heavy history. Bo, why was Spencer Clementine chasing us off our own property?

Because I stole her tacos.

Of course, you did, Brady said, no longer holding back his sarcasm. You're a twenty-nine year old man, why wouldn't you steal tacos from a girl you hate?

I don't hate her! Bo protested. She hates me! There's a difference.

You stole her tacos!

Yes, I did. Bo grinned and Brady (again) wanted to hit him. 

Brady ran a hand over his short hair. You're unbelievable. You do realize that she knows where you live now, don't you?

Bo's grin died and he stared out the windshield. She doesn't know that. I could have been at a friend's house.

Dude, you are such a dick. Brady closed his eyes and rubbed his temples with his fingertips. And you know what's really bothering me? I'll never find out where she got those tacos from.

Bo checked the rear view mirror again and slid his sunglasses onto his face. Damn, those were tasty tacos.

Unfortunately, he was right.

Best damn tacos Brady had ever had.

LO

Lo sucked in another breath and finally sat down in the gravel to hold her cramping stomach. Tears leaked out of the corner of her eyes and she wiped them away. 

And that goes for your mama, too! Spencer yelled at the cloud of dust that had been Bo and Brady Samson, shaking her fist in the air above her head. The blonde (or mostly blonde) spun around, her hands landing on her hips. It is not funny, Lo Fredericks.

Oh, shut up. It's hilarious and you know it! Lo threw her head back and laughed loud and deep, holding her gut with both hands. They stole our tacos, Spence! And then— she sucked in a fresh breath— they ran away! I just keep seeing that wetsuit flapping around his legs. She used her arms to demonstrate and lost it again in a fit of giggles.

Spencer's lips twitched before she rolled her eyes and huffed out a sigh. She sat down next to Lo, folding her hands in her lap. That boy has been the bane of my existence since I first laid eyes on him in sixth grade. 

Lo chuckled. Knowing you, I'm guessing you gave as good as you got.

Spencer sagged sideways and rested her head on Lo's shoulder. I can't believe that jerk stole our tacos.

I can't believe you thought it would be a good idea to chase him down. Lo shook her head. Really. What was the plan if they hadn't run away?

She felt Spencer shrug. I don't know.

Lo stood up and brushed off the back of her cutoffs. C'mon. I'm starving. If I don't find something to eat, I'm liable to get stabby.

Besides, she wasn't going to let Spencer pout. Sure, she felt the loss of the tacos right in the middle of her taco-shaped heart. But it wasn't an excuse to waste a perfectly perfect morning.

She bumped her friend’s shoulder with her own as they walked back the way they had come. 

At least we got a show out of it. A giggle tore through her as she pictured the flapping arms of the wetsuit. She decided to demonstrate one more time, determined to get a laugh. She jogged ahead a few steps and let her arms flop about.

Spencer snorted despite herself. Goof.

Lo turned around grinning. 

No one loves life the way you do. Spencer shook her head. 

Truth. But Lo believed that to be true in every case. Everyone loved life in their own particular fashion, to which they were entitled. 

Though sometimes they had to be coaxed into embracing their unique way of loving.

There's nothing wrong with finding joy in the ridiculous. 

They spotted a food truck in the parking lot and Spencer agreed to treat Lo to breakfast since her nemesis had stolen the first one. They ate, cleaned up, and watched the water make its way to shore.

Will you make more tacos tonight before your big thing? Spencer asked. 

Of course. Lo took a slow breath, her happily full insides ready to take on the rest of the day. The calories went to work activating the rest of her brain and sorting out all the things she needed to accomplish before day's end.

I have to come over early tonight anyway, Lo said, her eyes narrowing on a young girl dragging a huge surfboard into the water. Tessa wants to do my makeup and hair.

Ah, yes, Lo the Business Babe. Spencer gently grabbed a handful of Lo's long dark hair and fluffed it. She's so different from Miss Tarzina, Traveling Apothecary."

Lo chuckled. More truth. Have to pay the bills somehow.

She stood up, having lost sight of the girl in the reflecting surface of the water.

What? Spencer asked, joining her.

Lo shook her head and frowned. I was watching a girl...

A little head bobbed in the distance as she paddled clumsily for open water.

7... 8... 9... 10...

Three foot waves at ten seconds. It was the biggest they were going to get.

Baby waves. Beautiful for a morning ride to get the muscles loose. Lo had been counting the seconds between waves, wondering if they would grow much more. Not today, it seemed. 

If the girl was experienced, she should be fine. But it niggled at the back of Lo's mind.

I'm gonna paddle out, she said, stripping off her tank and dropping her shorts to her ever present bikini. 

Okay. Spencer squinted into the distance. I'll stay here. Maybe join you in a minute.

They had eye contact, communicating all the things they didn't needed to say because they were often on exactly the same page. Sisters on a soul level.

Lo paddled out, keeping track of the younger girl ahead of her. Once she'd reached her and had righted herself on her board, the girl was aware of her as well.

Nice morning, Lo greeted, pushing her wet hair back.

The girl was probably only eight or nine. About the same age Lo had been when she'd started surfing. The look of fear obvious in her round eyes.

My name's Lo. What's yours? she asked, bringing her board around to be parallel with the young rider. 

Whitney.

Nice board, Whitney, Lo observed. It was old, used, and too big for such a tiny person. Whitney's wetsuit wasn't hers either. It was three sizes too big and bunched in ways that must've been uncomfortable.

It was like looking at a live snapshot of herself at that age.

It's new. Whitney swallowed and looked down at the board, second-guessing her decision to paddle out.

First time? Lo guessed.

No. I tried all day yesterday but couldn't even get on the board.

Lo nodded. No one makes it up the first time.

Whitney's bright eyes snapped up to hers.

Let me be the first to welcome you to this beautiful life. Lo swung her arms out to encompass the ocean and all it contained. 

Whitney cracked a smile and Lo grinned. 

For real. The ocean has restorative powers. Stick with it, Whitney. It is an amazing place to find yourself. Lo felt the familiar movement in her belly. 

Here it comes, Lo instructed. Get ready.

Whitney's eyes got round again but she swung to her belly. Now?

In three... two... paddle, paddle, paddle!

Whitney's little arms pumped wildly. Lo paddled alongside her. 

Now? Whitney wheezed. 

The wave grew under her and Lo's taco-shaped heart grew two more sizes with excitement for this girl to experience her first ride. Okay, now!

Whitney popped to her feet, wobbling to find her balance on the big board. Lo held the rails on her own board and swung out of Whitney's path. She watched the young girl manage to ride nearly all the way back to the beach before falling off. When she emerged from the water, her face beamed with well-earned pride and gratitude.

She looked around for Lo. When she spotted her, Lo lifted her hand, thumb and pinky extended in the shaka sign. Whoooo! she called over the water.

One more person converted and added to the greatest family on earth.

TWO

BRADY

Brady straightened his bowtie again. 

Again, he watched it slowly rotate to the right. 

You know what kind of tie didn't spin around like a propeller on his neck? A clip-on.

But if he wore a clip-on, his dad would make The Face. The special one he reserved for social events and crushing disappointment. 

Okay, maybe it wasn't as severe as that. 

Doctor Elliot Samson was a respected vascular surgeon. One of the best in his field. Ironically, he believed his profession made him an expert in all areas of the heart. And since Brady's mom was world renowned neurosurgeon Doctor Cassandra Samson, his parents had brain and heart covered. 

Practically, efficiently, corporeally.

Both parents had had high hopes of one, if not both, of their sons going into the medical field. 

You always go all out for these things, Bo remarked, barely glancing up from his video game marathon on the couch when Brady came downstairs. Your tie is crooked.

Brady glanced down at his tux. He felt less 007 and more penguiney. Like a boy borrowing his dad's clothes to play an adult in a show.

You were invited, too, Brady reminded.

Yep. Bo paused his game and grabbed his beer off the end table beside him, unconcerned.

Only a year apart, and often mistaken for twins because of their similar build, blond hair, and blue eyes, Bo and Brady couldn't be more different in personality. 

Bo looked his brother up and down as he swallowed. But I don't feel like answering all the questions about my future and what I'm going to do with my life. What about you? Has dad found you a rich wife yet?

Brady grimaced. Not only did his parents fear he couldn't get a life partner on his own, but they also believed she would need to be the sole bread winner. He would like to say it was because he had chosen to live in a beach house with three of his friends and surf instead of pursuing a major career. But his parents had been talking about his future since he was ten and how they would like to see him and his brother taken care of. It was like a bizarre role reversal of Pride and Prejudice.

They had backed off briefly while he was attending San Diego State. But after his injury and subsequent drop-out, they had upped their efforts. He went to these things because he wanted to show them he was doing fine and didn't need their help. Also, because it was family. You show up for family, even if it makes you itchy. He tugged at the collar of the tux.

Bo grinned at his movement. You're purdy.

Suck it, Brady muttered, turning around and nearly colliding with Steve coming through the front door.

Whoa! Steve exclaimed, holding his hands up defensively. Careful, DiCaprio. I don't want to wrinkle you.

Kip came in behind him and lifted his chin. Oh, yeah. Your cousin's engagement party is tonight. You look good, man.

Thank you. Brady made a pointed look at Bo, who shrugged. I'll be back later. No parties while I'm gone. He grabbed his keys off the hook by the door. I'll be back in a couple hours.

Standard photo op with the 'rents and crab cakes to go? Bo asked, turning his game back on.

Yeah. Brady sighed again. 

Why did he have to be the responsible one? Maybe Bo had the right idea. 

Live and let live.

LO

Would you hold still. Seriously, two more seconds.

Lo held perfectly still as Tessa dusted her all over with some sort of magical sparkly fairy dust. At least that's how she treated it. It was just one more thing Lo would have to wash off in the shower.

Let me get your back too.

My back? Lo frowned but turned around anyway. It was often best to let Tessa do what she wanted. She had a vision and Lo had learned early on in their friendship that interfering with Tessa's vision wasn't awesome but letting her have her way never actually hurt. It was just confusing. For Lo. Lo was the only one confused.

Yes, your back is exposed. Men will look at your back. It should sparkle.

Whatever you say, mama jama.

I have a good feeling about tonight, Tessa said, stepping back to observe her masterpiece. That being Lo in evening wear and full makeup. 

Lo smiled widely at her best friend. You always say that.

Tessa bounced her head from side to side, rolling her eyes. Yes, but the feeling is stronger tonight. 

Spin for me, Spencer instructed.

Lo stepped further into the hallway and spun around. Do I look presentable?

You always look presentable, Tessa corrected her. But we've successfully hidden the vagabond. Instead of gypsy princess, you're just princess. 

You look amazing, Spencer agreed and winked. Maybe you'll meet Prince Charming tonight. 

Lo grimaced and hiked up the long dress so she could make her way into Tessa and Spencer's living room where the killer shoes waited for her.

Not looking to be rescued, ladies. Remember, I like my life. Love it, in fact.

Tessa and Spencer exchanged a look Lo didn't miss.

Really. We've been over this so many times. Is it so hard to believe I'm happy? I've worked really hard to get here. I'm good at my job, I pay my own bills, I make my own decisions. I'm no longer at the mercy of whichever way the wind is blowing.

Tessa frowned, concerned for her friend, but Lo couldn't figure out why. It was a good life—a great life. 

All of that is true, Spencer said quietly, taking a seat on the couch. But you know you don't have to lie to us. We're not going anywhere.

Emotional sucker punch. Lo's mouth may have fallen open a little. I don't... that's not... She huffed a heavy sigh and clenched her hands at her sides to keep from touching her face and messing up her makeup.

She closed one eye and squinted with the other. 

All we're saying, Tessa jumped in, ever the peacemaker and reminding Lo why these two were the most important people in her life. Is leave room for love. That's it. Not everyone is a turd.

BRADY

Brady found the happy couple first. 

His first cousin on his mother's side. Recently promoted to CEO at his dad's software company and engaged to the daughter of a banker. 

The engagement party was more than friends and family, it included colleagues and potential clients to keep both sides of the family busy for the rest of forever.  Which was probably why they had decided to have it at the most luxurious hotel on Newport Beach. 

As Brady crossed the Grand Ballroom to intercept the happy couple, he couldn't help being distracted by the sight of the moonlit bay outside the floor to ceiling windows. It was bright enough; he might go for a midnight surf after he left here. 

Brady offered best wishes, hugged his cousin, and went in search of his father. The sooner he was out of there, the better.

He used to think he would have fit in among these people if only he hadn't blown out his knee in college. He had been eyed for the draft his freshman year and was expecting to get a second round pick by his junior year until his ACL decided it had had enough basketball and quit without notice. 

The recovery and rehab cut into the classes he had already been struggling with and after a few weeks he'd given up entirely. He didn't want to go into business anyway. He thought he'd take a couple years off to figure it out. 

In the meantime, he worked at Shane's surf and snow shop.

And he was content.

But he still felt the blight he'd created in the family tree with his lack of ambition. He'd started to limit how many events he attended and had finally managed to only get invited to two or three a year. 

He snagged a glass of champagne off a nearby tray and took a healthy swallow.

He nodded cordially to a few familiar faces, searching for his dad among the glitz, gowns, and black ties. Spotting him near the door of the veranda, he took solid strides in his direction. 

His dad glanced over his shoulder and spotted him, smiled and waved him over. Brady was no doubt going to be introduced to yet another wealthy, widowed, middle-aged woman who needed a trophy husband. He tried not to let his lack of excitement show in his expression.

It was weird. Brady's parents were always trying to marry them off to someone financially stable. It was almost as if they didn't think their sons were ever going to grow up. 

Bo sitting in his underwear playing video games and drinking beer flashed through his mind. He shook it off and put on his game face. 

Besides, he would never find the girl of his dreams in a place like this. Not among the money and the life plans. If she was out there, she was a feather in an offshore wind. 

Ms. Salinas, this is my son, Bradach.

Again with the full name. 

Brady cleared his throat, smiled tightly, and corrected his father, Brady.

He extended his hand to the dark-haired, mid-fifties, elegantly dressed woman. 

Pleased to meet the oldest son of the good doctor. Ms. Salinas smiled and her brown eyes flashed with surprise. 

Brady let go of her hand and nodded with a small smile. 

Thus began the small talk, the awkward, zero subtle hints his dad tried to give, and Brady's stare down of the ornate clock on the far wall of the ballroom.

Ah, Ms. Fredericks, have you met Dr. Samson's son? 

Brady dropped his eyes from the clock to the woman now joining their small group. 

See? Now why couldn't his dad introduce him to someone like this? Someone at least born in the same decade. 

I don't believe so. Ms. Fredericks shifted her champagne to her other hand. Her pale green eyes connected with Brady's and her head jerked slightly to the left.

He grasped her outstretched hand and narrowed his gaze. Pleasure, he murmured. 

Ms. Fredericks' dark eyebrows lifted. Uh-huh. She shook her head and blinked rapidly. I mean, yes. Pleasure. Happening. She jerked her hand away from him and took a swallow of her drink as she averted her eyes.

Brady's lips twitched as he witnessed her overtly flustered behavior. Either he looked better in the tux than he had thought, or she wasn't as comfortable at these types of events as her dress otherwise implied.

Ms. Salinas continued, Ms. Fredericks is one of my more driven representatives. She had record breaking sales last quarter. She's an enormous asset to the company.

Is that so? Brady's dad tilted his head in interest.

It was just like his dad to be interested in the one thing Brady couldn't care less about. 

You can call me, Lo, she said, before clearing her throat and taking a deep breath. As if her words were compulsory and she was chastising herself internally for handing out that little tidbit of information.

As his dad and Ms. Salinas discussed what Brady hoped was medical business and not his dowry, he tried not to be too obvious while he totally checked Lo out.

She didn't seem like she didn't belong. No, her emerald green dress fit her body like a glove, her dark hair was tied into an elegant side knot, perfect makeup, perfect poise, even the way she held her champagne was perfect. 

It was the hint of panic in her eyes and the way those same eyes danced around the room, landing on everyone except for him. 

Ms. Fredericks is the future of our company. I hope to make her partner in the near future.

Ms. Salinas' announcement clearly caught Lo off guard because her dark eyebrows snapped into a sharp V. She relaxed her features as soon as it happened and smiled demurely. She opened her mouth to speak but her boss kept going.

As you can imagine, we'd like to see her future in a very stable place.

Brady maneuvered around his dad, bringing him alongside Lo as his dad replied with, Of course. We all want the best for our kids. Brady here has very strong paternal instincts. I could see him easily slipping into the role of at-home caregiver.

Brady nodded with this assessment. It was a pitch his dad has tried out numerous times. Lo shifted uneasily beside him, her mouth open as if to interrupt the proceedings. He bent slightly towards her ear.

It's best to let the negotiations play out.

Lo glanced at Brady and visibly swallowed. 

He flashed her a smile. Let me guess, this is your first marriage arrangement?

She licked her lips and huffed a small laugh. Uh, yeah, you could say that.

He sighed. I lost count of how many I've been through. I'm beginning to think I'm going to die a spinster.

She snorted, her hand flying up to cover her mouth. Brady grinned, inexplicably pleased he could make her laugh. It added to his theory she didn't want to be there. 

What is the male equivalent for spinster? he asked, his eyes narrowed on his dad and Ms. Salinas as they mapped out the ideal future for the two adults left to wait for the outcome. The party continued on around them. Brady set his glass down on a passing tray and slid his hands into his pockets. 

Hm, I don't think there is one. Lo shifted enough so her body was angled more towards him. I believe it's socially acceptable for men to never marry, so no one has ever created a derogatory word for what happens when they don't.

Tell that to my parents, he grumbled more to himself than to her. She hid her smile behind her glass. Spinster would a very inaccurate description, I think that's what really bothers me. I mean, I don't even know how to spin.

She coughed while swallowing and Brady turned his face away so he could maintain his flat tone. 

And Old Maid is, well, I suppose more accurate. I do like a clean living space.

Lo's shoulders began to shake with her suppressed laughter. The remaining champagne in her glass sloshing up the sides. 

Goodness, dear, are you all right? Ms. Salinas asked in alarm.

Lo coughed, covering her mouth with one