“What do you mean? Like the furniture and stuff? The actual house? The grounds?”
“Yeah.”
It wasn’t an answer. Aubrey chuckled. “The kitchen was added to the back of the house in the early nineteen hundreds, and a few of the outbuildings have been redone. The barn and stables out back are brand new, only about ten years old. Some of the slave quarters were torn down, but a few were saved for storage and guestrooms. Most of the main furniture is pretty old. Some of it’s been refinished, and other stuff has been updated. Like my bed. It’s almost two hundred years old, but I bought a memory-foam mattress last year. Obviously the claw-foot tub in my bathroom isn’t as old as the house, but it’s pretty old, like the late eighteen hundreds or early nineteen hundreds when the indoor plumbing was put in. I think the plumbing and electricity was majorly redone again in 1961. And we’ve had other things added, like the cable and satellite. My dad put in bigger water heaters a few years back. My mom is trying to talk my dad into installing a heated floor in their bathroom.”
“Whoa,” Matt said once again as they drove around the side of the house toward the detached garage. “I can’t believe you grew up here.”
“Sometimes I can’t believe it either. It used to be a cotton plantation and my family’s sole means of revenue.”
“When did it stop being a working plantation?” Matt asked.
Aubrey smiled. He could talk about Reynolds Hall all day long. “In the late 1800s. My great-great-grandfather built The Buchanan to supplement income from Reynolds Hall after the Civil War. Eventually, the hotel made more money than the cotton, so Reynolds Inc. was formed and more hotels were opened.”
“Why are the hotels called The Buchanan? Why not the Reynolds?”
“Buchanan was my great-great-grandmother’s last name.” Aubrey pulled around back, waiting for Matt to get his first sight of the big weeping willows along the creek. He’d always loved laying out on the bank looking up into the willow trees. There was a big Spanish moss-draped oak, like out front, that was perfect for jumping into the water. This time of year there would be fireflies at night and crickets and cicada serenading you in the moonlight. Aubrey stopped, put the car in park on the side of the house and pushed the ignition button off. “Come on.”
Matt got out and met Aubrey around the driver’s side.
“Follow me.” He had the urge to grab Matt’s hand and pull him but didn’t. Shoving the car door shut, he took off running across the grounds.
Laughing, Matt gave chase.
Aubrey laughed too, hurrying past the back of the house, the rose garden and gazebo.
Matt exclaimed “Whoa” again, over the garden fountain Aubrey assumed, but he didn’t stop. The clicking of their heels sounded on the cobblestones, then there was nothing as the path turned into lawn again. The clean country air was addicting. Had it been a month since he’d been here last?
“Where are we going?” Matt asked as he caught up.
Pointing to his favorite tree, Aubrey slowed his pace. They stopped a foot away from the creek.
“Oh my God, it’s beautiful.”
Aubrey shook his head and stepped in front of his mate. “You haven’t seen beautiful yet.” Resting his hands on Matt’s shoulders, he urged him to turn around. “This is the best view.”
Matt gasped.
The back of the house looked nearly identical to the front, with the wraparound upper and lower colonnade, but from this point of view the profusion of red, pink, yellow and white roses added to the splendor. Between the house and the jessamine-and-jasmine-covered gazebo sat the fountain. Its spilling water competed with the lullaby of the running creek. Past Aubrey’s car and a silver Jaguar—how had he missed that? And who did it belong to?—was the south pasture where all six of their horses grazed beyond the whitewashed wooden fence. Aubrey peered around Matt to see his expression.
His mouth opened and closed. A serene smile spread over his lips. He was beautiful. “I think I see why you and Keaton talk about this place like it’s a living, breathing person.”
Aubrey just stared, unable to look away from the peaceful expression on his mate’s face. Aubrey rubbed Matt’s back. He wished he could give Reynolds Hall to Matt. To present it to him as his dad had when he’d brought his mom here for the first time.
“Thank you,” Matt whispered, “for sharing this with me.”
“Wait till you see it tonight.”
“It’s better seeing it as a wolf?”
“No, just different.”
Matt nodded absently, still taking in his surroundings. He touched Aubrey’s hand on his shoulder and stepped back, turning.
They were too close to the creek. “Matt. Wai—” Aubrey lost his footing and fell backward. He landed on his butt with a splash.
Matt’s arms flailed, he gulped in a startled breath and landed in Aubrey’s lap. His upper body slammed into Aubrey’s chest, and his head hit Aubrey’s forehead, knocking them both flat on their backs. Unfortunately, the water dropped off after the first foot, and they went ass over teakettle into the waist-high creek.
Aubrey came up rubbing his head, laughing. When was the last time he’d done something so graceless as to end up fully clothed in the creek?
Popping up about six feet away, Matt spit out water. When the coughing subsided, he slapped a hand over his mouth, and his eyes widened. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry. Are you o—? Why are you laughing?” His wet hair lay limp against his forehead, concealing one eye. He brushed it back, still looking like he’d gotten caught with his hand in a cookie jar.
Aubrey couldn’t help it, he laughed harder. It had been awhile since he’d gone swimming in the creek. This did constitute swimming, didn’t it?
Looking down, Matt shook his head at himself and groaned. A small chuckle escaped. When he glanced back up, his eyes practically sparkled.
Aubrey saw it coming—he’d been around his mate long enough to recognize the playful streak—and prepared to retaliate. He cupped his hands and splashed Matt just as he splashed Aubrey.
In no time, they were engaged in an all-out water fight.
Diving forward, Matt tackled him into the water. They went under in a tangle of arms and legs.
Aubrey grabbed his mate, pulling him close.
When they broke the surface again, Matt clung to him, laughing. He looked so vibrant and alive with his head flung back and soaked to the bone. As he lowered his gaze to meet Aubrey’s, that adorable giggle escaped. As suddenly as it appeared the joyous sound ceased. Their eyes locked and everything else disappeared except for the warmth of Matt’s body pressed to his.
Aubrey’s heart pounded so hard he swore he could actually hear it. Anticipation tingled in the pit of his stomach, and his prick took notice of Matt’s nearness at the same time his wolf senses did. The color faded from his vision, and his gums tingled. He must have leaned forward, because Matt closed his eyes and tilted his head, offering his lips.
A door slammed, sending them scrambling away from one another.
Aubrey’s heart thudded, his chest hurt and nausea settled into his gut. He couldn’t believe he’d let himself get swept away here in the one place he could never show affection for Matt. He swallowed the lump in his throat and blinked. He turned toward the sound, hoping against hope that they’d remained unnoticed.
Boskie stormed out the back door of Reynolds Hall toward the silver Jag, whose presence Aubrey had let slip his mind.
The hair on the back of Aubrey’s neck and arms stood on end. He’d like to have said it was from the chill of being in the creek and the soft breeze, but he’d only be kidding himself.
Orin never even looked their way, but he did miss a step when he caught sight of Aubrey’s car. Which eased Aubrey’s mind a little.
“Who’s that?” The heat of Matt’s body warmed his right side, and a hand lightly rested on his lower back.
Boskie sped away, past Aubrey’s car and up the drive in a cloud of dust.
“Orin
Boskie.”
“The guy who attacked Carson?”
“One and the same.”
“What’s he doing here?”
That was exactly what Aubrey wanted to know.
Chapter Nine
“Boskie is a wolf?” Matt frowned. Why didn’t Aubrey just take up his issues with him instead of hiring Carson?
“Yes.”
“Does he know Carson is your executive assistant now?”
Aubrey shrugged.
“Did you try talking to him? Tell him to leave Carson alone?”
“No. He’d think I was threatening him with telling his wife or something. He and I are sort of business rivals. He thinks I’m too young to take over the company. I think he’s an idiot. It’s better to just get Carson out of his reach like I did.”
That made sense. It also helped Matt understand why Aubrey had hired Carson. He rubbed Aubrey’s back, trying to show his support as they watched the dust begin to settle from Boskie’s rapid departure. He had to hand it to Carson. He had good taste. Boskie wasn’t the old fart Matt had expected. “Well, I see why Carson slept with him.”
Turning to look at Matt, Aubrey growled and glared.
Matt smiled. Was that a little flair of jealousy?
The back door slammed shut again, and Matt let his hand slide off Aubrey’s lower back.
On the porch stood a man with mostly dark hair and a few streaks of gray. Was this Aubrey’s dad? He turned toward them with a sour look, then his eyes widened and a huge grin lit his face. Strolling toward them, he raised his hand and waved. “Aubrey. When did the two of you get here?”
“About ten minutes ago. What the hell did Boskie want?” Aubrey started trudging out of the water with his hands balled into fists and his lips in an angry line.
Matt followed, not knowing exactly what to do. He wanted to make a good impression on Aubrey’s family and here he was looking like a drowned rat, wallowing around in their creek.
The tall man shook his head, and a no-nonsense expression crossed his face. “Later.” His nose twitched, and he turned his attention fully on Matt.
Great. His nervousness was obvious, which made Matt even more nervous.
Reaching out a hand, the man approached. His features softened into a smile.
This was, without a doubt, Aubrey’s dad. They had the same smile and the accompanying twinkle in their eyes. The aura of power radiated off this man. He was an extremely strong werewolf, but that smile made him approachable. “You must be Matt. Welcome to Reynolds Hall. I’m Howard Reynolds, Aubrey and Keaton’s dad.”
Exposing his neck in respect, Matt shook the older man’s hand. “Thank you, Mr. Reynolds. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Please, call me Howard, Matt.” Unconcerned with Matt’s sopping state, he pulled Matt to him in a half hug and patted his back. “It’s a pleasure to meet you finally. Keaton has told me so much about you. I feel like I know you already.” Releasing Matt’s hand, he stepped back and his gaze raked over Matt and Aubrey. “What happened? Why were the two of you in the creek?” The amused expression was one Matt had seen often on his own father’s face. It was that expression that said he thought he knew what happened, but he was asking anyway, even though he didn’t expect a straight answer.
A pang of homesickness hit Matt, but with it the trepidation left him. It was hard not to be at ease with the fatherly manner Howard exhibited. The same urge Matt got with his own father, the urge to make him laugh, niggled at him. So he answered exactly as he would if his dad had asked the question. “Aubrey pushed me in.”
Howard threw back his head and laughed, his shoulders shaking.
Aubrey sputtered. “I did not.”
A giggle burst up inside of Matt and spilled over. The next thing he knew he was back in the water.
Matt loved the Reynolds. To think he’d been worried seemed silly now. Being with them was like watching an episode of Leave it to Beaver. They weren’t as loud and rowdy as his family, but they loved each other and it showed. They were down to earth and fun. And there was Martha… Matt took up the spot she’d just vacated at the stove, stirring the sauce while she got more spices from the cabinet.
“Matthew, if you don’t stop that I’m gonna swat you.” Martha shook her spatula at him for the dozenth time. Her tone said she meant business, but the smirk on her full lips and the gleam in her eyes belied the threat. If she weren’t such a tiny, loving thing, he might’ve been concerned, but the elderly black lady had practically smothered him with affection since the moment he’d showered and changed.
“I can’t help it. I’m supposed to help.”
“You are not, sugar.” Joanna patted him on the way to the refrigerator. “You’re a guest.” It was quite easy to picture Aubrey’s mom on the porch of Reynolds Hall in hoop skirts, with a lace fan and a mint julep. Aubrey and Keaton had both gotten their height and coloring from her. But Aubrey had also inherited her charm.
Matt groaned. He didn’t feel like a visitor, even though they’d actually set him in the kitchen with cookies and milk when he arrived. Was this what it was like to have a mother? He had a mother, but she was way different than Joanna and Martha.
“Aubrey says you’re a fantastic chef.” Joanna pulled out a glass pitcher filled to the brim with tea and shut the fridge. “You can help cook next time.”
Aubrey said that? “I’m going to hold you to it.” Grinning, he stole a homemade roll and took a bite. Mmmm…
Martha laughed and popped him on the hand with her spatula. “You bad boy. You’re just like Aubrey.”
Joanna bussed his cheek on her way out of the kitchen with the pitcher of iced tea. “He is not. He’s a sweetheart, more like my darlin’ son-in-law. He’s even pretty like Chay.”
“Oh, good gawd. Is she singing Chay’s praises again?” Aubrey came in through the back door. He strolled past where Matt was perched on a barstool and swiped the roll right out of his hand. He looked gorgeous in his faded jeans that hung on his hips. The polo-type shirt appeared navy blue, but Matt wouldn’t swear to it. The color he saw really brought out Aubrey’s eyes though.
“Hey.” Matt reached for the roll, but Aubrey smiled and stuffed the whole thing in his mouth. The way those pretty eyes flared a little as he made eye contact gave Matt a thrill of excitement. Nothing could come of it here with family around, but the fact that Aubrey wanted him went straight to his heart. Matt loved this playful side to his mate. He was so much more relaxed here than he was in Atlanta. It was odd, but he fit the image of laid-back country gentleman as well as he did corporate tycoon. His mate was a fascinating man. It was going to be hard not getting aroused this weekend.
After a few chewing motions and a swallow Aubrey said, “Chay is such a suck up. Mom and Martha always take his side over mine and Keaton’s.” A few crumbs dropped onto Aubrey’s shirt, and he started chewing again.
Matt wanted to kiss that smirk. He needed to stop thinking like that because his prick was all too aware of Aubrey’s nearness without the stray thoughts.
“Aubrey Ian Reynolds. Are you talking with your mouth full?” Martha shook her head and clucked her tongue.
Aubrey swallowed the rest of the roll without breaking eye contact with Matt. “Why do you even ask me that? You know I am.”
Martha tried to clobber him with her spatula.
Dodging, Aubrey laughed and dug into the big stainless-steel fridge, pulling out two beers. He handed one of them to Matt. His fingers lingered, brushing Matt’s palm.
Oh man. He loved Aubrey’s hands. Matt closed his eyes and prayed for strength. He had to quit thinking like that.
The saloon-style door between the kitchen and dining room swung open, and the scent of jasmine wafted by, jarring Matt out of his daze. As he tried to pull the tab on his can, Joanna snagged the beer and put it back in the fridge. She swatted Aubrey on the butt. “Matt is underage.”
“So? It’s not like he’s going to drive anywhere.” After opening his beer wi
th a click and a pssft, Aubrey took a drink.
“That may be, but his father is trusting us with his well-being and that does not include letting him break the law.”
Matt wished he could tell her that it was now up to Aubrey whether he drank or not, but he didn’t dare. How would they react if they knew? Would they still welcome him as warmly?
“Listen to your mama, Aubrey.” Martha nodded her agreement with Joanna and handed Matt a roll without looking away from the stove. “And stop stealing from this sweet baby, you rascal.”
Preening, Matt stuffed the bread in his mouth just as Aubrey had done. He immediately regretted it because then he needed a drink. His mouth was dry and way too full. He could barely chew, and no way could he swallow. The awkwardness certainly took care of his impending erection.
Noticing his predicament, Aubrey stuck out his tongue.
Matt winced and pleaded with his eyes. Good grief, he felt like he would never stop chewing. That would teach him to be a smartass.
Biting his lip to keep from laughing, Aubrey came to Matt’s rescue and handed him the beer. Just as soon as Matt was able to swallow, he handed it back, but not before Martha saw.
She clucked her tongue at Aubrey again and retrieved a bottle of water out of the fridge for Matt.
“I could get used to this. I kinda like him getting in trouble for everything,” Matt mused.
Martha laughed. “Well, he’s usually guilty, so it’s natural instinct to get on to him.”
“Hey. That’s not true,” Aubrey protested. “I’m an angel.”
Joanna scoffed on her way into the dining room again. “With ten-foot horns. Come eat, boys.” As the door swung behind her, she called out, “Howard, get Thompson in here. Supper’s ready.” Matt liked how they treated the servants as part of the family. It said a lot about them.
As they sat down to dinner, Matt glanced around the lavish dining room with a bit of trepidation. The silverware was probably real silver, the plates fine china and there were even candles on the table. How was he supposed to act? Dinner at home was a loud and often energetic event with everyone trying to talk at once. Their dad’s only rules at dinner were no arguing, no throwing food and no talking when your mouth was full.
With Abandon: With or Without, Book 4 Page 11