Wilde About Dylon: The Brothers Wilde Series — Book Four

by Faircloth, Cate

  Wilde About Dylon

  The Brothers Wilde Series — Book Four

  Cate Faircloth

  Contents

  Important!

  Description

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Epilogue

  Connect With Us!

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  COPYRIGHT 2018 PRISM HEART PRESS

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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  This book is for families and friends who have remained strong in light of the hardest times. Continue to lean on each other, love each other, and trust that someone will always have your back.

  Description

  What he did made me hate him. It was why he did it that made me love him.

  I have spent years thriving on the only emotion I could count on. For my mother dying before I got to know her. My father dying after we made so many memories. For my own illness that has made my father a part of my body and soul, never to be taken away from me.

  Hatred is the only reason I keep myself going every day, in hope of finding the truth.

  I didn’t know that truth would be Dylan Wilde--a man with a darkness to match mine, a part of him missing. Torn from the same cloth, I never thought I would fall for him; that he would matter to me.

  I have always only been Forbes Walters, the girl with no mother and now no father, but Dylan makes me feel like so much more.

  Despite everything, I have learned that there is a very thin line between love and hate.

  1

  Dylan

  I still ask myself why I bother coming to these things at all. Plenty of leaders don’t show up at their company functions, so I don’t know why I should. It might be that deep down, I love my family and this company. And it’s easier when we’re not actually within the walls of the building. I took a long leave after Dad died, longer than anyone else. It has been over a year since he passed and the memory—

  “You drink too much.” Evan. I could pick his nasal voice out of a landslide.

  “That’s subjective.” I turn the cold glass around, empty with no more gin. It’s my drink of choice since I can have it during the workday, and the smell is undetectable.

  “Right.” He drops next to me. I stare forward at the old wood walls, and he stares at me.

  I figure I’ve had enough of the company parties. I could pick out a uniform for it and stick with it. But since this is for Christmas, we were all obligated to be festive. So black slacks and a white dress shirt fit the bill for me. Evan is probably the only one out of all of us who would wear red.

  “Holden is getting ready for the silent auction,” he tells me. I nod in response, not particularly interested in keeping tabs on everyone. That’s for the party planners and PR assistants to do.

  These things are mainly for fundraising anyway. We charter for charities, so these events get all the money in the same room and raise funds for the charities we own and represent. The silent auction is one of them including having to buy a plate to attend.

  “And Carson?” I ask, motioning to the bartender. He comes back quickly with my refill.

  “Um, off somewhere with Emily, I think.” He does some tapping on his phone. I see him out of the corner of my eye.

  When I finish the drink, I decide it will be my last and tip the bartender even though it’s an open bar. We use the same galleria in the hotel downtown that we own land shares for.

  I chuckle to myself. If we’re not working, Carson is always with Emily. He has been doing that for the year they’ve been together, ‘officially’ been together. When we got back from the birthday party for Malia, we all got back into our normal routines. But the year was silent, normal. And now it’s been three years since Dad died. Three long years that still make it feel like it only happened yesterday.

  “He’s always off somewhere with Emily.” I manage a small smile.

  I stand, rubbing the edges of my beard down when I do. Evan regards me cautiously with this look in his eye that I ignore.

  “True. But did you see who Emily brought?” He follows me when I weave through the crowd to go back to our table. I shake my head at him waving over my shoulder for him to leave me alone.

  I lied though. I saw what Emily brought. What and not who.

  Because I’m not sure Forbes Walters is an actual person. She is mean just for fun. She looks at me like I brought the plague. With her being Emily’s only friend besides Carson, we cross paths a lot. We have since college when they first met. But recently, I see her a lot more, and she seems to hate me even more. I never had a problem with her until I found out she has some invisible problem with me.

  “She’s gorgeous, a real spit-fire, though.” Evan sits next to me at the table leaning back like me. Our legs spread, he nudges my knee, and I nudge him back. We go back and forth like kids for a few seconds.

  “That’s… her business.” I turn my attention to the live jazz band. They seem to be having way more fun than me. The employees are too, though, chatting each other up, hovering over the silent auction. We got good things this year—cruises, trips—it’s
good in my opinion.

  “Whatever.” He shrugs and picks at the first course of the dinner set off by the waiters walking around.

  “Why don’t you go bother one of your other brothers?” I murmur.

  “I’m older than you, you know. I get to bother you if I want. Eventually, you’ll tell me what it is that’s bothering you, though.” He smacks and chews through one of the mini… whatever they are. I cringe at him and roll my eyes. He laughs.

  They have all tried their hand at getting through to me by pestering me about acting weird. I don’t feel like I’m acting weird, but I know I haven’t been myself for a while. Actively knowing I’ve been down and not knowing what to do about it is worse than the denial they are accusing me of. First, it was growing the beard. They acted as if they’ve never tried themselves. Maybe that’s what they’re fussing over, not being able to. Or it’s probably me, and not wanting to be all smiles, not that I ever was before.

  “Nothing is bothering me. I’m getting old, tired.”

  “You’re barely twenty-eight.” He flicks my shoulder, and I flip him off discreetly.

  Holden shows up then. “Already? We haven’t even gotten to the main course.” He walks behind us, grapples both our shoulders before sitting on the other side of me.

  “Evan here is just shrinking again.” I sigh. “Where is Carson?”

  “Don’t know. Emily is by the Paris trip, though, with that girl. Who is she again?” Holden asks.

  “Her friend from college,” I answer.

  I first met Forbes in the winter of my senior year and the freshman year of Carson and Emily. At first, I thought she wasn’t a people person when we were all out by the firepit and talking because she didn’t say much. That much was fine. It was completely different the next time I saw her a few years later when they graduated, and the look she gave me could sink ships. I only met her once and didn’t care enough about her to figure out why because I didn’t know her, and I still don’t.

  “Oh. She’s hot.” Holden chuckles. Evan does too. I raise my brow and don’t give them the satisfaction.

  But she is.

  Emily starts walking over with her as Carson shows up. Everyone has to sit for the Master of Ceremony speech and dinner. They talk with each other, and my eyes stay trained on this Forbes girl. Maybe she is so mean because she’s so pretty. Not just ‘pretty,’ I mean…

  Her striking golden hair isn’t dramatic, it’s natural because her eyebrows match them, full and spread long over her sizable green eyes. Her features are dramatic, unnaturally sharp yet feminine, and the red lipstick she has on makes her lips look even fuller—kissable as hell. Then her dress—red and long—fitted at the waist but open through the deep ‘V,’ a silver chain is latched to her chest disappearing into her dress.

  When she catches me staring at her, I keep staring. She sits down and glares at me like she wasn’t dressed for staring. I glare right back at her. It would be easy to ignore whatever her issue is with me if she weren’t so damned beautiful.

  “When is the real food getting here?” Carson asks, and I tune back into the conversation. Tearing my eyes from Forbes, I see him sitting next to Emily, his arm around her back holding her close. It’s odd seeing them like this even after a year.

  It serves well that they don’t work together anymore. It isn’t because of the company policy we have, but if I were Carson, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands or eyes off of her either. As brothers, we automatically turn our eyes off to the women we bring around, but in hindsight, Emily is really pretty.

  “When you stop asking about it,” Evan retorts. They go back and forth, and I tune out again.

  If Mom were here, they wouldn’t be arguing so much. She used to come to all of these functions, but she hasn’t been able to since Dad died. Mom is probably the only one who knows the truth about Dad’s death. It’s also the reason why she is the only one in the family who hasn’t been down my neck about my changes since he passed.

  There haven’t been many, though.

  Besides the beard, I work out more and have put on a lot of muscle mass. The distraction is beneficial and keeps me from drinking too much when I want to. I read more, so I see how they would be inclined to irritate me about that.

  At work, I’m not as nice or easygoing as they would like me to be, but I only worked there for a year before Dad passed. Holden had been training under him for a while to take over his work. He planned to retire anyway—soon.

  Me aside, we’re lucky Holden was the only one remotely interested in taking over this empire and not screwing it up. So far so good.

  “Finally.” Carson acts like a kid when the food comes.

  The music plays over dinner. People thoughtlessly interrupt our dinner to talk to Holden or Carson—their stuff goes hand in hand. No one cares about finances, so I’m not bothered much being the CFO unless it’s payday. And technology is gone to everyone, so Evan—well, they probably don’t even know who he is.

  When I’ve had my fair share of overpriced chicken, I finish my drink and notice that Forbes is gone. I find her over by the silent auction, not hard to do with her golden hair shining. Maybe I’ve had too much to drink or am looking to keep myself busy, but I decide to go over and talk to her thinking maybe I can get something out of her.

  I corner her by the cruise trip, but it seems like she is staring at the table arrangement for it. My eyes rove over her bare shoulders, squared off and broad, yet feminine. It gives the allusion her waist is smaller. It dips in, and I follow the line down to her hips, the curve peeking out of her frilly gown, so long it covers her feet and sweeps the ground. She shifts on her feet, the motion making her hair sway down her back. Her hand comes up and swipes her hair over to one side exposing more of her shoulder and back. The chain of her necklace dangles between her shoulder blades. Her skin is barely pale, but it isn’t too tan either—like she doesn’t have to do anything to make her flesh so smooth and even. The more she moves, the more it feels like she knows I’m here.

  Someone behind me bumps my shoulder by accident.

  “Excuse me.” I fake a smile. It announces my presence too.

  “How long will you just stand there and stare at me?” Forbes turns on her heel, her icy gaze peeled on me.

  I stare back, my mouth open waiting for a response to fly out. But it doesn’t. She purses her lips at me, hoists her hand on her hip and waits. Her left brow raises, just the one.

  “I’m not. Why do you give me that look?” I walk forward, not stopping until I get close enough her perfume stings my nose but not in a bad way in the slightest. Her stare makes me feel like someone poured ice water down my neck while her scent makes me want to put her back in a spring meadow where she belongs.

  “I give you no look.” She clears her throat and turns back around.

  I gape, mouth open in shock as I process her turning her back to me in the middle of a conversation. I walk up to her, my arm brushing hers when I stare down at her. She must have heels on because her head stops under my chin.

  “Forbes? That’s your name, right?”

  “You’ve known my name for years, why are you playing dumb?” She turns and looks up at me, her artic gaze back on full effect.

  “Okay. What’s your deal?”

  She laughs, it sounds close to an evil laugh if my imagination were wild enough. And I wait for whatever she is thinking to come up with. When she turns back to the table, I don’t think it will, and I don’t know why I am still standing here.

  “No deal. I’ve got no deal.”

  2

  Forbes

  Dylan Wilde smells like cold cinnamon and warm cologne, and his rugged yet refined look is equally easy on the eyes.

  I hate that he’s so damned perfect, and I hate him. Not because he is an obscenely rich heir, pompous and privileged, but because—

  “It seems like it. I don’t think anyone here has as cold a shoulder as you.” His deep voice is piercing and grungy inside and wrappe
d with velvet on the outside.

  I have half a mind to ignore him.

  When you ignore things, they usually go away. So, I wait for an entire song led by the saxophone. And he is still here. I’m not even reading the bullet-point list of this amazing cruise. I don’t even have the actual bid amount in my checking account. The only thing I’ll probably bid on is the spa day or brewery tour.

  “I don’t want to talk to you.” I clear my throat, pressing my lips together, so my lipstick doesn’t over dry, but I already feel like it’s caked on.

  This is all Emily’s fault anyway.

  We were having a nice day at work. I don’t usually cross paths with her unless we have lunch together which is almost every day. The two of us work at Arnold together, the knock-off, second-hand, or any other word, company to Wilde Enterprises. We both matched there at a career fair in college, and it was the first time I told her of how I feel about the Wildes.

  It used to be all of them as a whole, then the ones who work for the company, but once I got all the information, it progressed to Dylan—the reason for every tragedy I’ve had in the past few years, the only one besides my mother dying when I was too young to remember.