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Wilde About Carson: The Brothers Wilde Series — Book Three

Page 9

by Faircloth, Cate


  “One day, she won’t just be your best friend.”

  “Evan…”

  “No, wait.” He comes closer to me. We’re the same height, and he looks right into my eyes. “I’m not making jokes here. One day, she won’t be Emily. She’ll be someone else’s wife, she’ll be someone else’s, and then you’ll regret it because I may be a comedian by trade, but I know things. My instinct doesn’t just apply to machines. Just… think about it.” He pats my shoulder and laughs to himself.

  I let him get a few paces away before I follow him out, saying nothing all the way back to the room. I get out of my wet swim trunks and shower before I set off to find her. I figure I should come bearing gifts too, so I rush a room service order of chocolate cake. We’ve stayed here before, so I know it’s good.

  “Emily.” I knock on our adjoining door. She doesn’t sleep early in hotels, and it’s only eleven. Soon after, I hear the padding of her feet and then the door swings open.

  “I brought cake.” I hold up the tray and smile, glad that it covers most of her exposed skin in her purple nightclothes—thin spaghetti strap top, very short bottoms. Her dark hair is semi wet, drying out around her shoulders. I can tell from the rosiness in her cheeks and the redness on her chest that she got out of the shower recently. I swallow, getting my eyes back to where they need to be.

  “Thank you, chocolate?” Her voice wavers. She’s hiding something, going through something internally that she won’t tell me.

  “Yeah. I wouldn’t bring you anything else.” I smile softly, and she barely returns my smile as she takes the plate from me.

  “Thanks. I’m going to eat this and get some sleep.” She moves to close the door, I step back to let her.

  “Yeah okay. Goodnight… are you okay?” I ask her.

  “I’m fine, just really tired. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I smile and let her close the door, then stare at it for a few seconds like I want to knock and pry it out of her, but I opt to leave her alone. When she is like this, it means she hasn’t processed what is going on in her head or what is really on her mind. And honestly after tonight, I haven’t either.

  I’m lying in bed wondering why my hands keep pulsating at the memory of her beneath them. It’s… something I don’t understand. I’m trying to sleep, and I keep thinking about her… about touching her. It could be because we haven’t spent much time together these past few weeks, and I am missing her, but I have gone weeks without her, and it wasn’t like this. I was younger then, but… maybe it was all the air pressure making me think crazy things.

  Except it doesn’t feel crazy. It feels…

  It doesn’t feel crazy.

  * * *

  Seeing Brant in all this pre-kid glow is pretty surreal. I mean, he’s old, and I thought it would never happen for him, but here he is doing all these things he seems to be enjoying. I honestly haven’t seen him smile like this unless he was singing or on stage. It’s nice, it’s good for him too. Cora also looks happy.

  “You look amazing, the prettiest pregnant woman I’ve ever seen.” I smile and hug her hello trying not to wrinkle her very pink, very frilly pink dress.

  “Don’t let Brant hear you say that. But thank you.” She smiles back at me.

  “So, the guys get to do their own thing and not have to play the poop diaper game, right?” I chuckle.

  “Your mom planned everything. The theme is music and notes if you couldn’t tell. I had to humor Brant at least once since the wedding was all for me. But yes, the men do not have to play identify the smell with us.” Her smile is mocking, but I hear the humor in her voice. It’s cute.

  “Great, but we’ll be there to make the photos look great.” I wink at her, and she playfully shoves my shoulder like anyone in the family would do.

  The shower is at their new home in San Bernardino—very hilly and a lot of land. The backyard has transformed into balloons, flowers, decorations, and people. It seems like a lot, but it’s the family and Brant’s team. I guess we don’t keep many friends. I spot Emily with Cora at one of the tables set up with the baby games. She’s smiling and having a lot of fun, nothing like the ride over here with me when she was silent. I really don’t get it, but there isn’t much I can do about it now.

  Over by their outdoor kitchen, all the guys are gathered around with drinks and such. No one is arguing, which is good. We are all hounding Brant, but not in a mean way. Not at all. He seems to have this all under control and doesn’t look nervous at all. Actually, he looks like he is about to go on stage and perform—he is always calm at that point. Even when he just started out.

  “Your body count is going to be super high. I mean a girl is going to be a lot to handle,” Fletcher chides Brant. He leans on the granite countertop with his beer and a smug smile on, as always. Mom made us dress nicely, so we are all in slacks and dress shirts. But we were only allowed to choose between white, pink, or turquoise. I went with a pink polo shirt.

  “I know that. I’ll have security on her until she is forty.” Brant rubs his face hiding the actual mortification behind his statement.

  “Dude, she has to live a normal life. Don’t maim her.” Jeffrey laughs.

  “You say that because you have no idea what it’s like. You and Gretchen have been married for almost ten years and don’t have kids,” Brant tells Jeffrey, who just shrugs in response and plugs his mouth with a sip of beer.

  Sometimes I even forget that Jeffrey is married because I only see his wife on holidays, even though she hasn’t been for the last few years. And it’s been eight years. They got married when he was still in med school. I don’t really know what is going on between them because he doesn’t talk about it, and I don’t see him often. Something is going on, and I wish he would ask for help about it. Instead, he distracts himself with cutting-edge surgeries, work, and nothing else.

  “You aren’t supposed to ask about kids, there could be fertility problems. You never know,” Holden says. It makes us all laugh a bit. I lean on the edge of one of the chairs stealing glances over at Emily.

  “No one is having problems. We’re both just… are at an impasse. But today isn’t about me, it’s about Brant having a kid.” He effectively ends the conversation.

  “That’s true.” Evan breaks in. “A kid who is worth a few billion dollars at that.” He is always the one to make a joke to bring everyone to laughing.

  “She’s a lucky kid. Have you thought of a name yet?” I ask him.

  He scoffs. “Nope. Cora will probably think of a good one, and I’ll just go along with it.” He sighs.

  “And you aren’t worried, you know, about making sure your baby stays alive?” Evan chuckles softly.

  “Not really. I read some books, went to the classes, but Cora’s done this before, so she is my security blanket.” Brant laughs to himself.

  We all know about how she raised Damien, her kid brother, on her own when she was only eighteen. Brant easily reminds us of how amazing Cora is and how lucky he feels. I don’t mind him doing it. I’m really glad he found someone especially someone as good as Cora. When I was eighteen, I was kicking back at frat parties. I kept my grades up, but I kept Saturday clear for wild parties. Needless to say, I wasn’t as responsible as Cora. Her entire life was like this with her parents. I don’t know if she intended it to be a secret from us, but as brothers, we tell each other everything. So, we know everything there is to know, and to say I highly respect her is an understatement.

  “Well, you can’t leave it all to her. Even I know that,” Fletcher says.

  Jeffrey chimes in, “Yeah. She will have literally pushed a human out of her body, the least you can do is… well, do all the work.” He laughs, and Brant nervously laughs with him. I don’t think he thought much about that. I’ve always looked up to him as an older brother, always believed he was right even if he wasn’t. I’ve never seen him lose his cool. He isn’t exactly there yet, but it looks close.

  “I will take that into consideratio
n.”

  We are drowned out by the women shouting, suddenly screaming and laughing. It looks like they are having more fun than we are. For a while, we just talk to each other and catch up. It’s been a while since this many of us were together, but we are missing Grayson, constantly worried about him especially with all that is going on over there. He got deployed again, another insurrection or something. I don’t really understand it all. I don’t even know who it is they are shooting at. All I know is he has to do it because it’s the life he chose. And we support him through it. Alec is being overprotective as always, sticking to Mia’s side, so he didn’t come, but Isaac is nothing new to us. That’s… it will never be water under the bridge.

  When the sun starts to set, we eat together under the canopy tent that was set up. I sit next to Emily, and she doesn’t say much. I brush against her, and she acts like I’m a heating rod. I know I have to get to the bottom of it, but right now, I just want to enjoy this. Not the Brant kissing on Cora’s neck part, the happy part. Mom is smiling, really smiling again. This all makes her really happy, makes her see some light again—the two weddings, the two births coming soon. When Dad died, we all thought we would never get to this unit of happiness again, but here we are.

  “Did you have fun?” I ask Emily as we are walking back to the car parked a little way up the hill.

  “Yeah.” She smiles up at me. At least she looks at me. I stare down at her walking a little bit in front of me, her off-white dress billowing in the wind, her brown hair following it. The glow of the sun hides in front of her, and I try to think of a time that I didn’t really look at her this way.

  “Good. Me, too.”

  She doesn’t say anything back. She doesn’t say much of anything on the way home either.

  * * *

  Emily is the same through the lunch we always have together at the office. Maybe it’s just that it is Monday, and she is tired or something.

  “What do we have on Lagos? Any progress there?” Holden is holding a meeting with the department heads and associates to discuss the upcoming acquisitions we have planned. Emily is here for our international accounts sector sitting three chairs away from me on the curve of the table so I can see her in her ‘meeting’ outfit—a navy-blue skirt suit and white chiffon shirt underneath.

  “Yes, we are onto Human Resources planning the next phase which is just repositioning the employees,” Emily answers. She barely looks up from her notes which is something she always does.

  “Good, keep me updated on that. I want daily reports,” Holden responds and moves on to the next thing.

  All talk of Taiwan is gone, and no word or hint of the bankruptcy that almost left us at fault for millions, which is good, no worries there. Dylan is still brooding, growing his beard, and closing himself off. He still does his job, of course, going over the account financials. Then there is Evan talking tech shit no one understands. I think he gloats himself on that.

  “Hey, you should hit the gym with me tonight. I’ve got dinner and dessert at the house.” I corner Emily after the meeting.

  “I did yoga this morning, but sure, just to use the erg.” Emily smirks.

  “You haven’t rowed since college.” I laugh.

  “I was good at it, though.” She laughs.

  Things go normally as usual. Once she comes over, we work out in my basement turned gym. And everything feels normal again. I’m working out shirtless as always, and there is no awkwardness. She’s in yoga pants and her sports bra as always, the outfit bright blue this time. She’s Emily again. But we still need to talk about what happened.

  “Why did you get all weird on me this weekend?” I wait until she has half a bowl of frozen yogurt in her, our dinner of stir fry which is the only thing I know how to cook is done. She picks at her black shirt she put on after averting my gaze and chewing her lip.

  “I wasn’t.”

  “Liar.” I nudge her from under the table. Sitting at the island, she is only inches away from me, facing my wide kitchen oddly colored with blue cabinets, silver appliances, and gray quartz countertops. All Emily.

  “I just… it was different. But it was just me being… celibate.”

  I laugh out loud almost spitting out yogurt in the process too.

  “What?” I spit out with a laugh.

  She giggles and turns to face me. I turn my torso to her and wait for this wild explanation.

  “I just mean that my body does weird things beyond my control. It’s been a while since I have been with anyone, so I just reacted to you. You know, as a man.” She burst into giggles. We both do. The kind that makes your body double over and your eyes water.

  “That’s… why did that make you avoid me?” I tilt my head at her.

  She shrugs and wipes her eyes. “I don’t know. I didn’t think I would react that way to you again. I mean it has happened a few times before when we were younger, but I thought we had walls. So, I just… freaked out a little. But it’s nothing, I’m all good now. I watched you dripping with sweat with your muscles all out for over an hour, and I was fine. Just some factory problems.”

  I chuckle once.

  “That’s it? Em, that happens to me all the time. It’s nothing. We can talk about that kind of stuff, we are supposed to call it. I don’t all the time because you would just think I am a horny bastard, which isn’t the case. I get enough. But like you said, we’re both attractive people, lines get blurred sometimes, and that’s okay.”

  She smiles at me, and I return it.

  “I didn’t know that,” she says.

  I shrug. “Well, it’s true, especially in your tight little skirts at work and then your half-naked yoga outfits. I can only ignore my biology for so long.” A laugh escapes me, and we get to laughing again until we cry.

  “Wow. We’re a mess…” Emily finishes her last giggle.

  “A little bit. But… jeez how long has it been?”

  She talks through her mouth full of yogurt. “Months. Such, long months.” She groans throwing her head over her arm on the counter. I laugh and pat her back.

  “You should scratch your itch. I could help you,” I joke, and she laughs aloud again.

  “Yeah, right, that’s a wonderful idea.”

  “I didn’t think so either. Glad you still have your sense of humor.”

  She eats another spoonful. “I feel like sex with you would scar me for life.”

  I gape. “And how is that?”

  “Just… you know. I had friendships with the women you have once slept with. They… when we were friends, they made it a point to express how much their world was rocked. So, yeah, it would scar me for life.”

  We laugh together for a second and finished our yogurt.

  “I get your point there. But… it wouldn’t be good for either of us considering the friendship we have.”

  “I know, it was a joke. A funny one. But… I might just help you with this issue you’re having.”

  “Okay, don’t count on it too much.”

  She helps me clean up. We make a huge mess of water and bubbles, but we finish it out somehow. It gets pretty late, and she has to leave. We laugh over everything again—a simple thing that turned into a huge joke, and maybe another inside joke between us. I’m just glad that everything is okay, and she isn’t icing me out or something. She’s just… having a moment.

  I smile to myself, a lot, as I get ready to turn in and start another day bickering with Dylan and ending at the beck and call of Holden plus enduring Evan and his jokes. That’s how working with family is. We can tear each other apart all day and then laugh about it in the end. Emily and I are the same way. We can talk about anything. It may take a day or two, but we can. I know I can always have her, and that she will always have me. That means more than compromising our friendship or anything that would come with the suggestions my brothers keep making about us.

  It’s Emily and me, best friends forever and all that sappy business.

  Because it’s true, and
it’s the only thing I know for sure.

  12

  Emily

  The next few weeks pass by at such a fast pace because I have so much going on at work—three new accounts coming up, plus the ones I already have. Carson keeps telling me to delegate more. I guess I should trust him since he has an entire company on his shoulders, and he runs it pretty well. But it’s hard for me. I like to see everything through, and I like to know how it happened. That includes me doing the work that I need to do on my own. But… I should delegate more. I should pass off some of the work.

  This past week, I did. And I have less frown lines. I need to listen to Carson more. He reminds me of that too as we plan our Halloween party outfit. I can’t believe Holden actually went through with it, this whole ‘boost morale’ thing. But it seems to work. Everyone couldn’t stop talking about it at the office. The company rented out the ballroom of a swank hotel downtown, catering and everything. Even people who don’t work for us are coming, and I haven’t been to a party in a long time, so I am excited to go.

  Carson and I haven’t done one together in a while especially for Halloween. And our costumes are killer—a few weeks ago he had them made. Made. I couldn’t believe it, but I wasn’t really surprised. Party City can’t pull off the perfect Cat Woman and Batman costume. So, I’m glad when I pull the latex on—literally pull it on—and it doesn’t itch or ride up or anything, it’s perfect to my measurements. I invited Forbes, so I could have a girl to get ready with, but she, of course, declined, especially if Dylan is there. I wasn’t surprised, but I wish someone else could do this winged eyeliner for me. I get it on, tie my mask over my hair and touch up my plum lipstick. I take a picture and post it, I look amazing. Just then, I get a text from Carson saying he is here.

  I see his car outside and laugh immediately. My phone is tucked safely in my bra, and the effort it takes to get it out isn’t worth the picture.

 

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