Wilde About Brant - The Brothers Wilde Series Book Two

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Wilde About Brant - The Brothers Wilde Series Book Two Page 12

by Cate Faircloth


  “It’s good,” she comments as she eats.

  “This is my favorite thing to eat.”

  “I’m surprised.”

  “Why?”

  She shrugs. “No reason. I guess my favorite food is rice.”

  “Rice?” I laugh.

  “Yes, it goes with everything, and it’s good on its own. Um, it’s also really cheap.” She takes a bite to deflect another question, but I don’t bite.

  “You needed that growing up, I mean?”

  She nods. “Yeah. My parents never really… when I had to make dinner, and there was nothing, I could look under the couch cushions and stuff to find enough spare change for it.”

  “I’m sorry…”

  “It’s fine. You don’t have to say that.”

  “I can’t ever empathize with you because I was a spoiled brat growing up. All my brothers were.”

  “You really don’t seem like it. Even now, with your own money. Otherwise I wouldn’t be able to stand you.” I laugh as she finishes up. I take the plates to the sink.

  “I mean we aren’t pretentious pricks. My mom didn’t grow up with much money. Neither did my dad. New money isn’t as bad as old money.”

  She laughs. “Yeah. Thank you for breakfast.”

  “No problem. You ready?”

  “Yes.”

  Cora hops off the counter, and I purposefully lag behind her to watch her hips sway as she walks. Her calves dip with every clank of her heels, the bottom of her thighs peeking out of her dress. The dress itself is sinful. Cora is just a willing ticket right to hell.

  “You want to drive?” I hand her the keys to one of my nicer cars. She gives it her ‘really’ look, and I laugh. “What, I had to show off at some point.”

  “Uh huh. I’d rather have a chauffeur for the day.” Cora spins on her heels, hips swaying as she walks to the beeping car. I laugh after her and open her door for her.

  “Should I wear a hat?” I lean in close and kiss her. My tongue slides into her mouth as she opens her lips and kisses me back. I break the kiss before we end up not going anywhere.

  She licks her lips. “Just take me home, Brant.”

  Rick has me in a meeting for hours after I left Cora. I’m a little disappointed it’s a lunch meeting and not in his office so I can go see her. But I already know not to push her too hard in the office. She cares about her job, and I’m not going to be the one to jeopardize anything. I can still be an endless flirt, though. I can’t even tease her right because I want her so damn bad all the time, that it doesn’t last long before I just have to have her.

  “What the hell are you thinking about?” Rick snaps his fingers at me. I stare into his beady eyes and shake my head.

  “Nothing, man. Just tired.”

  “You’ve been laying low. Not getting in trouble. That’s a good thing. Is that what’s tiring?” He chuckles, and it doesn’t quite reach me because I know I almost made a huge problem for myself at that club. I am damned lucky I didn’t wreck everything and then almost lose Cora in the process before I ever really had her.

  “Yeah. It is. I wrote three new songs. I’m pretty much ready to record.” I sip my sweet tea. I’m trying to stay away from alcohol just for a little while. I don’t feel anything coming on, but I figure it’s good to keep my nerves at bay. Alcohol messes with that and my voice. It isn’t proven, but I sang a lot better before my last tour. I had to try hard to stay in tune and even took stuff down an octave because I would rather my career be over before I ever use autotune or lip sync.

  “Well, that’s fucking awesome. I’ll set up studio time for later this week. I also have some set dates for the tour, but… food first.”

  I grin. Rick loves his food. First thing he always does is organize the food for any event he books. I do want to get to the tour first, but I am hungry, and he isn’t very nice to deal with when he is hungry too.

  We order the lunch specials from the overpriced place we went to for lunch. Everything is on the agency’s bill but saving money is still a thing. I finish my arugula salad with chicken before he gets through his greasy chicken and mashed potatoes.

  “Okay, so, we are set for the weekend right after Easter. Up through the July Fourth weekend. It’s perfect timing. Last year when you toured the entire year, you did really well on holidays. I think it’s because you’re so wholesome.”

  I laugh. “Sounds good. And what do you mean wholesome?” I finish my tea.

  “I mean, you have a squeaky-clean record. Literally. Your ticket sale records are in bulk meaning when most people buy your tickets, they’re buying for the family.”

  “Oh. I didn’t know that.” I know my music has always been clean. Maybe I’ve done two songs about women specifically or a one-night stand—hence my song called ‘One Night Stand.’ But for the most part, I make ‘clean’ music.

  “How did you manage that? Staying out of the tabloids for usual rock-star shit?” he asks me.

  My neck heats as I scratch my arm nervously. I never expected a question this direct from him. I have kept stuff to myself and Julia. But I never directly lied. I don’t know how to tell him right now, and I sure as shit am not going to. It’s one lie I will have to keep living with.

  My dad raised us all to be honest first. He says he would never have been as successful as he is if he lied his way there and plotted like most other businessmen. We all live by it, and it gnaws at me that for this one thing, I can’t.

  Everything will come crashing down before I can even watch it fall.

  “I don’t know. I’m a family guy.”

  “With no family? I mean of your own.”

  I laugh. “I haven’t met the right person.”

  He sips more of his beer and shakes his head. “You trying to?”

  I grin because I already know I have. Yeah, deep down I already know about Cora. Because the fantasy I have with my wife and kids all piled up in our bedroom isn’t faceless anymore. It’s with her.

  “Not particularly, no,” I lie because Rick is nosy as hell.

  “Hmm. Okay.”

  He finally pays the tab, and I can escape him in the parking lot with a promise to show up for my studio time tomorrow. I have to get these songs down and set for the publicity time to plan single releases for them with an announcement of the next tour. I’m still tired from the last one, but that’s just the job.

  I text Cora in the car before I drive off.

  Brant: What are you doing?

  Cora: How original.

  Brant: Come on, it’s valid.

  Cora: Just work. You?

  Brant: How original.

  Cora: I’m flipping you off right now.

  Brant: Thanks. I just left a meeting with my manager.

  Cora: Um, did you tell him?

  I already know what she is asking before I think about it.

  Brant: No, I didn’t.

  Cora: So I’m still keeping this to myself?

  I read her last message at a light. Of course, I’m not texting and driving, but I decide to call her instead, and she answers on the third ring.

  “I prefer to hear your voice.” I smile.

  “Don’t distract me with your flattery. I’m serious, Brant. How long will this last?”

  I blow out a shaky breath. I don’t know what to tell her or how it will let her down in some way. Cora doesn’t deserve all this, what I’ve asked her to do. I’m surprised she agreed to it but even more grateful. There are some people out there who will sell a person out for no reason. I know we’ve had a little bit of history, but she could have put herself first—her career. But she didn’t.

  “Cora, I’m sorry. I don’t know. Rick won’t… I don’t know how he’ll be after this thing I have coming up. He didn’t know about it before, and it didn’t change much.”

  “You can’t guarantee he won’t find out. Do you have any idea how this could come back on me?”

  “Well, you didn’t have to agree to it, Cora.” I snap and immediately r
egret it. “I’m sorry,” I breathe. “I didn’t mean that, Cora.”

  Her line is silent, but I know she is still there. I pull into my driveway and stay inside until she says something.

  “I know I didn’t. I tend to overreact.”

  “You’re not. It is completely understandable. And if you aren’t comfortable with it anymore, I won’t be mad if you tell him. Really, I won’t.” I don’t give a shit if it destroys my career, not if this will drive a wedge between us. We already aren’t even that close. Not as close as I want to be.

  “I wouldn’t do that, Brant. I… I care about you.”

  “I care about you, too.”

  I hear her sigh and try to picture her in her office.

  “Can I see you tonight?”

  “I have to do this thing…”

  “Okay. I won’t beg.”

  “You love to beg.”

  “And you love to make me beg.”

  “You have no idea.”

  I smirk. “Have you got a dominant side, Cora? I’d like to see that.”

  She laughs. “You submitting? That’s laughable.”

  “Maybe. You just have to see.”

  She whimpers and finishes it with a sigh.

  “At least tell me what you’re wearing.”

  “No.” She laughs again.

  “Come on, I can’t see you tonight unless you would rather send a picture instead.”

  “Hell, no… um, a shift dress and heels.”

  “I bet that makes your tits look amazing.”

  She scoffs at me. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  “Fuck, yeah, I would.”

  Her giggle dies down. “Okay, Brant. I have to get back to work.”

  “Meet me for lunch tomorrow then.”

  “Oh, I don’t get a say in this?”

  “No, doll. I’m not asking. I have to see you.”

  “You have a problem.”

  “I have you, same difference.”

  “Brant,” she chides.

  I chuckle softly. “Cora, will you accompany me to lunch tomorrow?”

  “Yes, I will.”

  “Then I’ll see you tomorrow, doll. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

  I hear the smile in her voice. “You, too.”

  Back in the house, I get out of my clothes and lay around in boxers like any self-respecting man my age and watch some home improvement show. Like every day at three, my mom calls. She likes to talk to me at the end of the day, and I don’t mind. I am a momma’s boy after all.

  “I haven’t heard from you in a while, sweetheart.” Her warm, bell-like soothing voice tries to scold me.

  “It’s been two days, Mom.”

  “Really? It seems like longer.”

  “Because we’ve talked every day since I left the house seventeen years ago.”

  “Okay, maybe that’s why. How are you doing?”

  “I’m great. I have just been relaxing since the tour ended. But, how are you?” I ask, a deeper meaning in my own question that she understands.

  “I’m doing well, sweetheart. I’ve been busy with my students and planning Alec’s wedding for him.”

  “He couldn’t hire a planner?”

  “He knew I wanted to do it. Be nice.”

  I roll my eyes. Alec might be my favorite brother because he is quiet and didn’t have any drama until last year when he left.

  “I am. But I’m glad you’re doing better.”

  “Me, too. I mean it’s still hard especially with the wedding because I know how much your father would have liked to see it. He’s the first one to get married.”

  “Yeah, I didn’t think about that. Just try not to get too upset, Mom. I don’t like it when you’re upset.”

  She laughs sadly. “I know. But my husband is dead. When you find something like that, you’ll understand. I’ll always be upset from now on. A little less some days than others, but I’m a work in progress.”

  “Yeah, I understand. I’m sorry, Mom.”

  “I know… but nothing exciting is happening with you? My son is rich and famous, and no one even knows about it.”

  “Well, you don’t want the paps at your door every day, Mom. And nothing except the new tour. I can stop by for the Easter weekend before I leave. It starts that Tuesday.”

  “Oh, okay. I’m so glad you’re coming home. I can’t wait.”

  “Me, too. I’m excited. I get to hound my kid brothers again. It’s been a while.” Last time I was home, I was getting clean and wasn’t all there. I don’t want to miss out on any more memories.

  “I know it has. I want to make it really special.”

  “Don’t get too stressed, Mom.” I know she isn’t too old, but I want my mom to be around for a long time too.

  “I won’t. It makes me happy. What else is going on? I hear it in your voice.”

  I smile sadly. I wish I could tell her about my drug problem, but I’m just not ready yet. Not ready to disappoint her.

  “Not much,” I lie but then give up.

  Because it’s about time I tell my mom about the woman I’m falling for.

  16

  Cora

  “You look sexy as hell. You go to work like this?” Brant brushes his fingers over the outside of my thigh.

  “Yes,” I lie. I never wear a pencil skirt this tight. Or a blouse cut this low. But I knew I was having lunch with Brant, and I like the way his eyes darken when he looks at me, the way he reacts to me.

  “I don’t like it,” he seethes.

  “You do like it.” I trail my finger up his thigh and stop just before his crotch. We are way too close for a public restaurant, but he always gets tables in the back or more secluded.

  “For my eyes only, yes.” He kisses my neck just below my ear. The spot that makes me mewl in pleasure. My sex is always clenched around him threatening to spill over.

  “You don’t know how perfect you are.” He kisses my jaw and goes back down to my I neck.

  “Hmm. Don’t give me any hickeys.” I smile.

  He grips my inner thigh harder as he chuckles like he knows no one will see bruises there. His fingers inch up further, and I grip the table with the hand not inching toward his cock. I feel him hard through his jeans, and his finger brushes the edge of my panties.

  “Brant…” I silently beg him not to let me soak my only pair of panties I have with me.

  “You want me to stop?”

  I don’t know.

  “I… want to eat my lunch,” I lie.

  But he laughs and pulls away from me not touching me anywhere but his thigh on mine. He takes one of the fries from my plate and feeds it to me, going further as my lips close around his fingers as he draws them out.

  “Now I have to feed you, too? So spoiled…” he jokes. I giggle and shove him playfully.

  “Shut up.”

  “That’s okay. I like to spoil you because you’re my girl.”

  “I’m your girl?” I beam at him.

  “Yes, doll. Mine. Unless you want me to share the attention I give you with some other girl.”

  I frown at him, and he kisses it away. The joke leaves his eyes as he stares at me intensely.

  “I mean it, Cora. I’m crazy about you. Only you.” His thumb traces my cheek, and I melt into him.

  I never felt like this with anyone, and I don’t know what do with it. He just gets under me and takes control—inside me. I haven’t had a normal train of thought since we met.

  “Brant… I’m a little crazy about you, too.”

  “A little?”

  I nod. “A little.”

  My phone interrupts the sweet moment between us. I groan at the name showing on my screen. Damien must have done something again.

  “Excuse me,” I say to Brant. He nods, of course, and I answer.

  “Ms. Arnold, I need you to come down to the school immediately.” His principal and her chipper voice irritate me.

  “What happened? Is Damien hurt?”

  “
No, but he is in a lot of trouble.”

  “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” I hang up and start leaving the table.

  “Who is Damien?” Brant asks.

  “I’m sorry, I have to go, Brant.”

  “Are you okay?” He stands with me and walks me out to my car.

  “I’m fine. I have to take care of something. I’ll call you later.”

  He takes my elbow softly before I climb into the car. “Be careful.” Brant kisses me goodbye, and I open my lips to taste his tongue on mine as he deepens the kiss for a good few seconds. He pulls away and watches me race off.

  I am going to really hand it to Damien this time.

  “I am so angry with you, Damien. I could literally ring your neck.”

  “It wasn’t my fault!”

  “No, you don’t get to talk yet.” I hate yelling. I lower my voice as I glower down at him. “What the hell were you thinking?” I throw my hands up, and the slap as they fall on my thighs is the only noise in my office.

  I had no choice but to bring him back to my office since he got suspended. It was almost an expulsion. I could scream for days about it. His principal was not happy, and it’s only because I blindly threatened a class action if she expelled him that she moved it to a one-week suspension and community service for the school.

  “I wasn’t thinking,” he mutters.

  “Oh, you’re lost for words now? It was only you who did this. At least it would be better if you had accomplices,” I scoff at my own words.

  “It wasn’t like that.”

  “So what, you just decided to hack your teacher’s computer and change everyone’s grade? And you didn’t even change yours. Did you think you would look less guilty?”

  “It was barely hacking. She had her password on a sticky note next to her computer.”

  I glare at him, and he cowers back.

  “It wasn’t about my grade. She gave us all a dubbed exam and then lowered the percentage so she wouldn’t have to curve it.”

  “So?”

  “You don’t get it, sis.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “She only did it so we wouldn’t pass. The course is required to move on to the next grade.”

 

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