Seeing this happy, relaxed side to his PTSD-plagued older brother gave Cal hope for his own dicey future. Once the wedding hoopla was over and it was just him and ‘tessa here by themselves, maybe just maybe they’d reconnect in a meaningful way. Either that or she’d be the death of him. Take your pick.
TICK. TICK. TICK. TICK.
The house was so quiet without the noise and commotion from the wedding. The faintest of sounds came from Grandpa Wilde’s antique boudoir clock. It was a garish thing, French Rococo style, with a swinging pendulum that, for some reason, her practical sister loved.
Charlie looked around at the beautifully decorated master suite and aside from the unusual clock, couldn’t find fault with Brynn’s fabulous sense of taste. She’d made a comfortable nest for her and Jax in the renovated room. A surprising palette of earth colors, some vibrant and others muted or decidedly vintage-looking, lent a warmth and homey comfort to the large but cozy space. The room reflected both people living in it. There was Brynn’s impeccable sense of order and balance. And Jax’s rugged outdoorsman vibe. Somehow, the two things worked.
Taking a beaded pouch out of her bag, something she’d rummaged in an antique market in Paris, Charlie went to the curved built-in bench seat beneath three tall windows and plunked down on the cushion. The view from the window was in the direction of the garage studio. Odd. She hadn’t really thought it through before but the enormous arched window in the studio’s loft looked right into the master suite.
Pulling the silk ties on the pouch, she opened it up and dumped out the contents. Three good-sized crystals tumbled out. A long cylinder of clear quartz that fit perfectly in the palm of Charlie’s hand called to her like an old friend. Picking it up, her fingers closed around the cool stone. A subtle energy vibrated as she held on. An energy that sparked a tickling sensation on her wrist.
She didn’t care what the naysayers said. Just because someone was too tight to pick up on the vibrational energy didn’t mean she was crazy because she felt it.
A large chunk of amethyst sparkled in the light streaming through the window. The purple beauty was her go to when she needed calm and balance. Plus, she naturally gravitated to all things purple in color, or blue and metallic green. Just like the dragonflies she chased as a girl.
Laying the two substantial chunks on the windowsill, she glanced skyward. This was just what they needed. A chance to air out and soak up the sun and moon light.
The third chunk was a beautiful pink quartz. Charlie frowned at the pretty stone. She’d kept a rose quartz nearby since she was a teenager. Brimming with soft, female energy, it was a heart stone and helped circulate love to and from.
Bah humbug twice and then half a dozen times on Sunday. Love? Yeah, right. Fat lot of good it’d done for her. Instead of leaving the pink beauty to absorb the same energy as the other stones, she made some disapproving sounds and shoved it back inside the bag—yanking the drawstring taught and tossing it aside.
A movement from the corner of her eye caught Charlie’s attention. A large, black SUV pulled up to the garage. It wasn’t Jonas—the guy Jax left in charge of the house renovation. He drove a classic Dodge Charger in the same obnoxious orange color as the General Lee of TV fame.
The General Lee. Ha! Her dad was a card-carrying Dukes of Hazard aficionado. He even had a Boss Hoggs T-shirt he wore to piss Mom off. Thanks to Dad’s influence, Charlie was an unabashed fan of Daisy Duke and could drive better than half the boys she grew up with. Until dropping her panties for a lothario in a racing suit, she’d never known anyone she couldn’t race—and win.
When the door of the SUV opened and a booted foot hit the ground, she groaned into the silence. Dammit. Had thinking about him conjured Ty up out of the air? This was getting ridiculous.
Several days had passed since the wedding and things were getting back to normal—or whatever normal looked like in Brynn’s world. Jax’s parents and her mom and dad took off for their respective homes, all of them happy as a troop of monkeys with a crate of bananas.
Rhi bolted back to the city—something about a big event on New Year’s Eve she had to manage. Charlie picked up the amethyst and closed her fingers around the big stone. She was worried about Rhiann. This thing with Liam Ashforth had disaster written in magic marker all over it. There was nothing she could do and that bothered her greatly. Getting any information out of her sister on the subject was worse than trying to herd ducks.
Brynn leaving Charlie in charge at Wilde House was something of a joke. Jonas and his crew were a well-managed team thanks to Jax so all she really had to do was get the hell out of their way each day. And the bakery? Yeah, whatever. Amy was so damn efficient and on top of every little thing that there was quite literally, nothing for Charlie to do.
So here she sat. Playing with her crystals in the big house while much to her ever-loving chagrin, Ty moved into the studio loft.
Jeez-Louise, she shook her head and rolled her eyes for the thousandth time. And then she went back to observing the driveway activity.
He was bent over, reaching into the back of the SUV, leaving Charlie to stare at his ass. Grinding her jaw she couldn’t help but sigh. The suave devil she knew in Rome had transformed into … what? She struggled to put in words the changes she saw in him.
Instead of Italian leather shoes, he sported work boots. The tailored slacks were gone, too. Replaced by jeans that fit him so well she was sure they were illegal. The soft cashmere sweaters, button down shirt and sexy vests? Also gone. From out of nowhere he had a wardrobe of flannel shirts and long-sleeved tees that clung to his muscled body like a second skin.
Oh. And the leather jacket? Come on. That was so unfair. How the hell was she supposed to keep her cool and ignore his ass when right before her eyes he was morphing into her version of a modern Prince Charming? What made it all worse? He wasn’t shaving or concerned about his hair.
That’s right, she scolded her laughing inner voice. I’m a friggin’ voyeur now.
She watched with the crystal clutched to her chest. A huge black bag got tossed on the snow-cleared driveway, followed by two smaller ones. Slamming the back lift gate shut, he went around to the side of the car she couldn’t see and opened a door. When he walked back to the stack of bags, he had another bag that he slung across his chest by a long strap.
In that paltry second, before he picked up his bags as he bent over to get them, he looked up. Straight at the window where she sat. Crap. She was practically pressed against it and licking the glass.
Charlie froze. So did he. And then his expression shuttered and he went back to dragging his stuff into the garage.
Dismissed.
Or was his reaction something else?
She knew perfectly well he was furious with her for the kamikaze blowjob mission. Having taken extraordinary steps to ensure that they were never even remotely close to being alone together after that didn’t mean she was unaware of the expression on his face whenever she was around. Charlie didn’t know a jaw could take such abuse, ‘cause his was constantly clenched tight.
And he scowled. She didn’t care for the scowl, I mean after all—what the fuck did he have to be mad about? She wasn’t the one caught being a lying cheating bastard. That was all on him.
Carefully putting the crystal down on the windowsill next to the other one, she turned from the window and slid off the bench seat. Could this be any more messed up? She thought.
When she came home, determined to put Ty and their Roman affair firmly in the past, the last thing she expected was to find herself living just a couple of yards from him.
Making matters worse, dammit if Nana wasn’t acting like Ty, or Caleb as everyone else called him, was her best friend. Next to Jax. Nobody quite shone as much as he did in her grandmother’s opinion.
When she discovered Ty was taking up residence in the studio, she bitched him out for it right to his face. His reply? He didn’t care what she thought. He was doing a nice old lady a proper an
d if she didn’t like it, he had a hat she could shit in.
At least one Merrill brother almost died at that moment. She was so mad, it was a wonder her anger hadn’t melted him like dollar store wax.
Since then, she’d kept her distance. From everybody. Jonas made a point to speak to her every day. He was a nice guy. Pleasant enough. And closer to her age than that snarling asshole setting up camp in the garage.
He tried to flirt with her but she shut him down pretty quick. Had to, and not just because he was a good guy. He could parade around naked wearing nothing but work boots and a tool belt and she wouldn’t care.
Enough was enough, though. This hiding away in the bedroom was plain silly. Maybe she’d pull on some boots and wander down to the bakery. Grab a muffin or something. Charlie knew she wasn’t needed down there. Amy would text or call if something was up.
Text or call. That’s right folks. Over her belligerent objections, the newly married couple confiscated her ancient cell phone after Rhi declared it a relic from the dark ages. Forcing a brand new iPhone on her, she endured being walked through all the bells and whistles and even on on-line tutorial. Seriously. It was a phone. Not a jet airplane. What was the big deal?
She discovered pretty quickly what an annoying big deal it was when Brynn gleefully entered Ty’s contact info along with an admonishment to call on him for anything. Anything at all.
“I really don’t understand why you two didn’t hit it off,” her sister muttered as Jax stared a hole through Charlie. It was a wildly disconcerting moment. Her brother-in-law studying her like a bug under a microscope and Brynn blathering on and on about what a great guy Caleb is. She must have shown off the necklace he gifted her a dozen times.
The necklace was nearly a deal breaker for Charlie after Brynn, and Jax, went into excruciating detail about the egg charm, the turquoise stone and what it all meant. Praising Caleb’s enlightened outlook was Brynn’s new obsession. The irony of it all was far from lost on her.
Adjusting the thermostat on the wall, Cal knocked the temp back a few degrees. It was cold, that’s for sure, but he didn’t want to roast.
It was easy to like the converted garage. Whoever did the actual renovation did a damn good job. It wasn’t his brother. He knew that at first glance. Jax had a flair for redesign he didn’t see in the final layout. But the space was well thought out and functional. Staying here was going to be easy. As long as there was at least half a kitchen, a decent shower and a place to crash—he was good.
Going to the galley kitchen, he yanked open the full-size refrigerator and immediately arched an eyebrow. For lack of a better way to put it, the frig was full of chick food. Yogurt, hummus, bottles of coconut water, stacked containers filled with cut veggies and about six different kinds of salad dressing. He found two cans of whipped cream, a baggie filled with wrapped chocolates, a jar of homemade jam with a Baron’s Tea Room label and fat-free half-and-half.
Fat-free. Definitely a chick.
There were also two bottles of Pinot and another of Moscato. Cal’s eyes swung to the condiments on the door shelves. Right in the middle were two opened jars of Trader Joe’s olives. The big ones. His hand went to the freezer door and hesitated. He wasn’t sure why he was nervous. It was a combination of things, really.
Cracking open the freezer door, he peeked inside and scanned the contents. Two containers of ice cream were the first things he saw. And then, there it was. A bottle of Grey Goose vodka.
His throat immediately shut. He tried swallowing to lessen the tension. In slow motion, he shut the freezer and turned around. Frightened by how much he needed to see one more thing, Cal’s eyes searched the room. Tucked out-of-the-way in a space beneath the stairs to the loft, was a bar cart. The usual stuff cluttered the top tray. An ice bucket. A shaker. Bunch of wine glasses. But there, on the bottom shelf—next to some Kahlua was the distinctive green bottle of his favorite Vermouth. Noilly Prat. No way was the classic French Vermouth easy to get out here in the boonies. ‘tessa had to make a real effort.
Either the universe rippled or his vision went momentarily wonky.
Shaking himself—he had no idea how long he’d been frozen in the same spot—Cal struggled with what it all meant. Thoughts ticked off one-by-one. The best he came up with offered a hopeful opening. Maybe she wasn’t as closed off to him as she appeared. Had to be a good thing, right?
Then what the fuck was all that stubborn dominance about the other night? It didn’t matter what the outcome was, she’d been an angry bitch and made sure he got that part of the act. In retrospect, he concluded that’s exactly what she’d been doing. Acting. All that big, bad ‘You will come in my mouth’ bluster wasn’t her at all.
When he saw her blissed out and moaning on his cock—that was the woman behind the act.
God dammit. She had him so tied up in knots he could barely walk.
Having a sudden urge for a lungful of frosty air, he went to the door and pulled it open at the exact second ‘tessa’s shadow moved in his field of vision. She was moving slowly along the path leading to the back of the bakery. Tempted to follow, Cal hemmed and hawed until she slid from sight. He didn’t trust himself at the moment. Not with her when they’d be around other people.
This predicament called for some finesse. ‘tessa was a beautiful, sexy high-end sports car not a demolition derby junker. She required special handling and needed a wide berth to allow for spontaneous maneuvering. Running after her was a desperation move—one she’d use to kick him in the teeth.
No. What he needed was an actual plan. And that plan had to begin with a face-to-face conversation. Until that happened, he was pissing in the wind.
“ARE YOU SERIOUS? FOR REAL? What does that mean exactly?” Charlie wiped some crumbs off her black sweater and pushed the last morsel of a to-die-for cinnamon crumb muffin into her mouth.
Amy, Brynn’s intrepid right hand was calmly stowing baskets of goodies into a glass display case. She chuckled at Charlie’s distress. “It’s just snow. But this storm is going to hang on. That’s why I’m warning you. Be prepared to be snowed in for a day. Maybe two. They take their time plowing the main roads but the guy we use to do the parking lot and driveway up to the house is pretty good about showing up once the white stuff stops falling.”
Charlie laughed. “Yeah. I’m going to murder Brynn for getting married in the dead of winter. Soon as I saw the shovels up at the house, I knew I was doomed.”
“There’s a snow blower in the shed but unless you know what you’re doing I wouldn’t suggest trying to use it.”
“What about you, Amy? And this,” she waved a hand around. “The business. Do you try to open in bad weather?”
“No. People around here know the drill. The convenience store at the Lucky Mart will stay open and the diner at the crossroads. They’re the only twenty-four businesses out here. The locals will be cool for a day and when the roads are snow covered there’s little chance of tourists.”
“Well, hell. That’s a relief.”
“The kids’ll be furious that they’re missing out on a snow day! It’s winter break and they’re not in school anyway.”
“Aw, man. That sucks,” Charlie giggled. “I remember snow days! Best part of living here.”
“Word,” Amy sniggered.
“Well, I better get into town then and grab some supplies. I’m over all the wedding leftovers, y’know?”
“Brynn keeps the chest freezer stocked. Long as we don’t lose power, you’re good. I’d have Cal move a pile of logs onto the porch, though. Jax fixed the chimney and fireplace and it’s good to go. We drag the kids into the living room and have a snow camp out in front of ours when a big one hits. Brynn showed me how to load a crockpot full of hot chocolate and keep it topped off. Best mom-hack ever!”
She tried not to growl when Amy mentioned Ty. There was no way she was asking him for anything. She’d die, frozen and hungry before going to him for help.
Although. A damsel in d
istress performance might prove fun. She could ask for help and repay the kindness with her body. Charlie shivered at the salacious thought. What would the big deal be if she turned the tables? He took what he wanted. How come she couldn’t do the same?
Because that’s not who you are.
Shut up. I’m horny.
Just horny? Or is there something else? Something you don’t want to admit.
Damn. She missed him. It was true. The time they spent together changed her life—and she didn’t just mean the surrendering her virginity thing.
Something about Caleb Merrill called to her. Trying to ignore it wasn’t working.
“Okay, well like I said. I’m outta’ here. Will you keep me informed, though? Let me know what’s going on so I don’t worry for no reason.”
Amy gave her a big hug and squeeze. “Don’t worry so much, Charlie. I’ve got this. You go and get ready and then enjoy the magic. And don’t forget, snow angels are a must! Your crazy sister does ‘em on the side of the house—then runs upstairs and hangs out a window to take pictures.”
“Y’know what?” she chuckled. “I’m glad to hear that. It’s fantastic seeing Brynn so happy. None of that stick-up-her-butt stuff anymore.”
She started for the door, smacked her forehead as she remembered and dashed to the case where the pastries and cupcakes were displayed. “Please, please, please,” she begged with her hands clasped. “May I have a box of sweets?”
Ten minutes later she waved good-bye to Amy and started the trudge back to Wilde House with a bakery boxed tied with string. If nothing else, she could indulge in a sugar coma.
A light dusting was falling from the sky. She looked up and a snowflake stuck to her eyelashes for a second before melting away. Charlie sang a playful childhood jingle as she trudged along.
Wilde Magic (Wilde Women Book 3) Page 28