He presses the lock button twice, and we both look off to the left where we hear it.
“I never thought to try that.” I take the key back, and the flicker of something I feel is short-lived.
“It’s better than letting the alarm go off,” he answers. “Can I walk you to your car?”
I lick my lips with a quick thought. If he was a creep, I think he would have tried something by now. “Yes. Thank you, um…” I trail off, not knowing his name.
“Brant Wilde.” He holds his hand out with a smug grin, and I simply shake it in response.
“Cora Arnold.”
His brows raise in question for a second, he gets this look I can’t place for a hot second, and then it’s gone. His permanent grin is back, and he releases my hand which suddenly goes cold. In fact, as he slides next to me and walks me to my car, at an ample distance away, I still feel that heat on my left side. Who is this stranger? I wonder to myself and concentrate on not tripping.
“So, you committed the crime or what?” he asks.
“Oh yeah. My fifth violation.” I giggle.
“Let me guess.”
“It’s not important.”
I scowl but can’t hold back my smile as I shake my head. I don’t think to ask him what he’s doing in a courthouse as I don’t want to disappoint myself too soon. He’s too pretty. He can at least live as a perfect person in my mind because it’s doubtful anything should come of this. I can read his type easily. I read people in the courtroom all the time and during legal meetings, so I know what I’m up against. And this man, Brant… he screams heartbreaker. It’s so evident that I know with every step I shouldn’t be walking with him, but I am.
When I finally spot the tail end of my car, I walk a little faster, but his long legs carry him in stride easily.
“This is me. Thank you.” I walk in between my car and the plain sedan next to it.
He follows and traps me between them.
“I didn’t take you for this type of ride.” He inspects the black exterior of my car. I only got the Wrangler because it resembles the G-wagon I’m dying to drive one day. But I still like driving on top of everyone else and such.
“Oh really?” I unlock the door and start the engine up with the key and toss my purse on the passenger side.
He doesn’t move to leave, and I look up at him again. His eyes are intense, biting deep down into a part of me that doesn’t know how to look away.
“Yeah. But I accept that I was wrong.”
“Oh, you do?” I laugh and roll my eyes.
Brant smirked and steps even closer to me. Personal space gone again, my senses are invaded by his strong scent I can’t place for anything. I’ve been around so many colognes in my line of work, but not this—a strong tone of masculine embers that almost make me dizzy.
“Right on. How about I take you to dinner tonight? That is, if you don’t lose your car between now and seven o clock.”
I almost gape but smile back instead. I’m not going to get into thinking I’m out of his league. I know I’m beautiful, and people don’t take me seriously because of how beautiful they say or think I am before I can even prove myself. So, he may just want to get into my pants, call it a conquest, and be done with it, but I can’t honestly say I’m not thinking of doing the same.
“A date?”
“Yeah, a date. But I’ll let you meet me there so that you can storm out at any time, no Dutch shit either.”
A complimentary meal. A sexy man… it isn’t rocket science.
“Okay then.” I rest my hand on my hip as I cock my head to the side and watch his smile light up his face.
“Phone, please.” He holds out that fantastic hand, and I hold his gaze as I blindly get my phone from my purse.
His contact is entered, and a text comes in a few seconds later.
“Meet me there at seven. It was really nice to meet you, Cora.” His eyes blaze over my body, and I’m keyed up all over again at that and the way my name rolls of his tongue like a new hit single.
“You, too.” I glance down at the text. “This looks like a home address,” I say as he backs away with his smug grin.
“What, that’s a deal breaker?”
I swallow and loosen my grin. He isn’t wrong… and I think for a comeback, but he is already gone.
He isn’t wrong at all.
3
Brant
I leave the parking garage and not even the rev of my brand new, unnecessary sports car can get the buzz of Cora out of my head. Talk about being in the right place at the right time. I mean, I do write songs about it, but I never thought it would actually happen to me.
I’ve been in clubs, parties, and pretty much anywhere beautiful women would be. I just never actually cared if they paid me any attention. I wouldn’t lie to myself and try to be a gentleman about it, but I spotted her round ass and full body from the other end of the garage. But once I got up close and looked into her deep brown eyes, I knew I was done for.
The first thing I do when I get to the studio is write all this shit down. I already know it could be my new hit single. Maybe she could be my muse, but it isn’t all I wanted from her, definitely not. I always carry around my small notepad in my pocket, so when things pop up in my head, I can write them down. I’ve always done it since I knew I wanted to write songs when I was seventeen but even more recently with…
“Brant, I’ve been waiting for thirty minutes. You know they charge by the minute.” Heidi Nelson has been my personal assistant for years, maybe she is also my handler. Julia is my executive assistant, so I don’t usually see her unless I have a show. But Heidi, she’s the one who has my entire day planned out to the last minute while I’m on tour and if I have studio time.
“Like we can’t afford it.” I rise from the plush brown leather couch I sunk into and tuck my notepad back in my pocket.
“And I told you to dress nicer,” she scolds, coming closer to pick at my choice of clothing. Heidi always looks dressed for the occasion—sweats for studio time and this obnoxious business dress for the press conferences.
“I’m a musician. They’re lucky I’m not wasted,” I joke, but she doesn’t like the dig in the words because of how close to home it gets with me. I raise my brows and smile at her to get her to chill out. My smile always works. I sold millions of magazine covers with it.
“Right. Let’s just get this done.”
We leave the lounge and go down the wide, panoramic hallway leading to the conference room. The studio itself is lined with the awards of anyone who ever recorded a song in here. I have my own little section, but this is big. The biggest thing I’ve accomplished. A platinum album could be the last thing I ever do, and no one would bat an eye. That’s why the conference room is packed with every news and media outlet that has anything to do with music, their mics pointed my way, their mouths already running.
I get mics put in front of me, and I take my seat at the long table in the front of the room with Julia by my side and Heidi on the other. Rick is on either side but engrossed in his phone. I think he comes because he has to. I let Julia officiate the questions and try to remember everything from media training, so I don’t give too much away.
“Brant, what was the big gap in your tour from? Is it related to why you haven’t announced any new events?” I don’t get the name of who the guy is with, and I can barely see him in the crowd of people.
“One question, please,” Julia snipes. I chuckle and nudge her knee. She’s way too serious about this stuff.
“I took a four-week break in November for the holidays. Am I not allowed to celebrate with the general public?” Some people laugh, but mostly more pictures are taken. I can’t wait to see how they’ll spin that one. “And no, it isn’t. I just decided I need a little break, but my manager and I agreed it would be short. I’m recording a single to launch in about four weeks,” I answer easily and take back some of the water sitting in front of me.
I’m waiting fo
r the drop, for someone to pry too much and ask too deep a question. But no one does. I end up getting the usual—new music, tours, endorsements, women—everything is just in the ordinary. Heidi looks at me as if she knows what’s going on in my head. I’m not obligated to share everything just because my life is so public. I can keep some things to myself.
A few select media reps are invited to the private signing of my platinum record. Photo ops happen as I sign it, and it gets hung with all the others.
“So, what do you want to do to celebrate? Your usual at the club?” Julia asks. I’m flanked by her and Rick on the way out.
“No, I have plans.” I grin to myself.
“Plans?” Rick asks like I’m not allowed to have a life.
“Yeah, plans.”
He snorts, and I get eager to lose them as I spot my car where I left it. I don’t think I’ll ever look at a parking garage or parking bay the same way again.
“You have studio time next week. Do you have a song to record yet?” Rick asks, and Julia curiously looks on. Heidi has already left, and I think she’s the only person on my team I don’t know personally. She knows everything about me, but it isn’t reciprocated.
“No, it doesn’t really work that way.” I unlock my car with the sensor by the door and patiently wait for them to go their separate ways.
“It won’t be one of those times you just sit around in the studio for hours until you have something, will it?” Julia asks.
I smile down at her and shake my head.
“No.”
She frowns.
“I promise. Look, I’m off the clock. Let me know when I’m in the papers.” I get in my car before they can ask me anything else, and I peel out of the spot and wave over my shoulder as I do.
It’s a fast drive on the interstate to my house buried in the hills of Brentwood. I’ve only lived here two years, but collectively two months since I’ve been on tour. The house is over-the- top flashy, enough to remind me of either how hard I’ve worked or how lucky I got. I’m three miles out when my mom calls, and I know it’s to congratulate me.
“You don’t have to worry about me, Mom. I’m still your humble son as ever.” I snicker.
“Brant, that could never be true. I could see how smug you were during that whole interview. But are you really not going on tour again?”
I sigh. “I don’t know. Time off isn’t too bad. I can come visit.”
“I would love for you to visit, but only if it’s really what you want.”
“I’m not missing your birthday this year. You should be happy about that.” I swallow hard. “It’s the first one without Dad.” I pull into the garage under the house and stay in the car.
“Yeah, I know. I think Holden planned something, but you know how vague he is.”
“Because he thinks he’s the original patriarch.” I laugh, and she giggles.
“Brant, he’s trying his best. And did your brothers congratulate you on your platinum record?”
I almost roll my eyes. Our group chat is more nonsense than anything. “Yeah, they did.”
“Good. Now you think about this tour thing, and if you really want a break, you should take it.”
I smirk. “I will, Mom. I’ll talk to you later. I just got back to the house.”
“Okay. Hopefully, I’ll see this new place one day.”
I laugh. “We’ll make plans. I love you, Mom.”
“I love you, too. Bye, Brant.”
I hang up glad that she sounds a little better every time I talk to her. When Dad passed away, it was hard on everyone but especially her. Those two were crazy about each other. Even with the shit that went on with Alec and his real birth father, it didn’t put a dent in their relationship at all. I couldn’t lie and say I didn’t want that.
Once inside the house, I call the small catering team offered by my favorite sushi place downtown and get ready before they arrive. I’m all about impressing women, but with Cora, it’s something different.
I saw the fire in her eyes. The sated little minx that I know is underneath her uptight attitude is just begging to get out. I’m hoping for it tonight, and I’m not planning to stop until I’ve got her wrapped around my guitar-playing womanizing fingers.
4
Cora
If I had girlfriends to talk to about this kind of stuff, I would. It isn’t that work keeps me too busy because even before and in college, I just didn’t have time for social interaction, and I was never very good at it.
Damien was three when I started college, and it was rough finding a good daycare, but I ended up working at the kids’ center of the university hospital, so I got it for free there. But there was still the taking care of him before and after school and work, so, needless to say, free time wasn’t a thing.
He is grown now, so I can pretty much let him be independent unless he is getting into trouble somewhere. So, I do have that extra time to go on weird dates and have fake conversations at PTA meetings, but not enough that I can ask for a second opinion on what dress to wear or how to do my hair.
Brant is… extremely hot. A sexy stranger from a parking garage I plan to just let loose with tonight. Well, not too loose. Respectably loose, taking control of my sexuality and all that.
“Cee, you didn’t cook?” Damien yells through my door, and I groan internally.
Maybe I spoil him too much making dinner every night. By the time I left the office, it was after five, yet he has been here all day as I asked with his friend, Jude, on the Xbox. I got it for him for Christmas and regretted it every day since.
“No. Order pizza or whatever,” I shout back. I feel him frown before I hear him shuffle away and the murmur of their voices a few seconds later.
I only have one hour to get dressed and leave, yet I still sit at my desk and organize some client case files. The firm has been excited about some singer getting a platinum record, but since I don’t usually work with clients that big, I never paid attention to it. But, the extra stuff got dumped on me by my boss. Soon, I hope for a promotion that lets me dump stuff on other people’s desks. Until then…
Once I’m satisfied with my briefcase and done stalling, I get back up to find the perfect dress to wear. I always feel this need to top whatever I did before, so I know I have to look better than I did earlier. A red halter dress and wavy, curled hair with dramatic makeup completes my look plus black strappy heels. I spritz a little bit of perfume and pick out a clutch purse before I walk in the main living room to find two teenage boys trashing the place.
At least I raised Damien decently enough to know he’ll clean up after himself.
“I’m going out, don’t stay up too late.” I dig in my purse and find a twenty to drop on the table for him to order food.
When I look up, they’re both staring at me like I have two heads. Well, Jude is staring at my breasts. He’s a rich-looking society type, much like the other kids at their school. His quaffed blond hair and always pressed and starched uniform used to annoy me, now it’s his wandering eyes, but pubescent teen boys can only be so tolerable.
“You never go out. Where are you going?” Damien asks.
“Out…”
He arches a brow with questions in his eyes. “Dressed like that? Is it a date?”
“No, and it’s none of your business.”
“That’s girl talk for a planned one-night stand,” Jude chides with a boyish grin.
“Oh, you’re an expert on women?” I entertain him, hitching my hand on my hip and cocking my head.
“Pretty much.”
“Okay then. Don’t start any trouble.” I make my way to Damien to hug him, but he crouches behind the couch.
“Ew, no hugs with your tits out like that.” Damien screws up his face. I laugh and look down at my revealing top, but he’s just weird like that.
“I’ll take a hug.” Jude smirks with outstretched hands, and I frown at him before taking my leave. I remind them to order something to eat before I go, but e
ven as I get into the car and drive off, I feel guilty.
I know Damien is more than capable of taking care of himself for a few hours, but I always feel an obligation to be there for everything. I don’t think I started leaving the house without him until he finished junior high.
The GPS takes me to a part of Brentwood I would have never seen myself in, up in the hills. I don’t even know what Brant does for a living, but it is obviously rewarding because his house is the most exclusive one on the block. And the biggest I’ve seen on the way.
“Wow,” I murmur to myself as I pull into the driveway.
It curves just before a hedge of bushes and then disappears under the house. Who has underground parking?
I’m intimidated just to walk up to the door and knock, but I text him on the way up to it. The landscaping is gorgeous, a desert-type look with mini cacti and palm trees. The sun has just about ten minutes left, so everything is glowing and setting the mood. When I hear the click of the door, my heartbeat flutters in response, and I feel my belly turning like before in the garage.
“I thought you were an intruder.” Brant swings the door open, revealing the bright lights of his foyer behind him. In khakis and a casual white button-up, he looks absolutely delicious, and I force my eyes to meet his.
“Why would you say that?” I get three paces away from him.
“You just look like you don’t belong here.” He licks his soft lips and looks at me from the ground up making an extra show of it.
I swallow nervously at feeling so on display and get within scent’s length of him, his crisp cologne swarming my senses. “What do you mean by that?”
His blazing eyes meet mine as he smirks. “You’re way too gorgeous.” Stepping to the side, he lets me in, and I circle to face him as he shuts the door.
“Thank you. You look all right yourself.” I smirk.
“Hmm, I don’t get any credit, Cora?” Brant steps so close I could almost feel the heat radiating off him.
Wilde About Brant - The Brothers Wilde Series Book Two Page 3