Wilde Magic (Wilde Women Book 3)

by Suzanne Halliday

  Copyright © 2016 by Suzanne Halliday

  WILDE MAGIC

  ISBN-10: 0-9961894-4-0

  ISBN-13: 978-0-9961894-4-6

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by an means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.

  This book is meant for mature readers who are 18+.

  It contains explicit language, and graphic sexual content.

  Edited by Vanessa Bridges, Prema Editing Services

  Proofreading by Manda Mettlach, Prema Editing Services

  Book Cover Design by Sommer Stein, Perfect Pear Creative

  Formatting by Stacey Blake, Champagne Formats

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Contact Information

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Epilogue

  Other Books

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  This book is dedicated to the fantabulous ladies of my readers group,

  Halliday Ever After

  Without their daily hilarity and unyielding support, my life would be a lot less fun.

  “KISS! KISS!” CRIED THE CROWD of happy partygoers as they tapped glasses and encouraged the smiling couple at the center of attention to lock lips. Obliging their well-wishers, the grinning man in the perfect tuxedo dipped his beautiful partner, dressed in a clinging white off the shoulder gown, in a dramatic dancer’s pose, then snatched her upward quickly and into his arms for a ravenous kiss that was met with a chorus of sighing “Awwws.”

  A pudgy man dressed in a suit, which appeared to be a size too large, waved everyone to their seats before beginning to address the crowd in an overly loud voice that suggested he’d had his fair share of cocktails.

  “Before my illustrious mother-in-law comes up here and takes the stage, I’d like to propose a toast to my brother-in-law Bob and his wife Darcy,” he slurred as he held his glass aloft. “Thirty years is a long time to put up with each other, but you two have certainly shown all of us that it’s possible.”

  As far as toasts go, it wasn’t a very good one, but the man doing the talking wasn’t expected to do much more than take up space. All families have a groan-worthy relative or two, and judging by the crowd’s reaction; he was one of them.

  A tall older woman with elaborately coifed silver-grey hair, dressed to the nines and more or less dripping in expensive-looking jewelry, strode confidently forward, fixing the inebriated man with a cold stare. When he dropped like a stone into his chair, looking both sheepish and morose, she paused ever so slightly until he had the sense to hang his head.

  The DJ hired to handle the festive occasion rushed at her, handing off a microphone which she waved away with a snort. “Young man,” she bit out, even though he wasn’t young by any stretch of the imagination. “I am fairly confident that, even at my advanced age, I still know how to project my voice.”

  Sitting at the table closest to the couple being honored, three beautiful young women snickered with undisguised delight, then quickly coughed and cleared their throats, straightening up in their chairs when the grand dame in the spotlight looked their way.

  Having been summarily put in his place, the DJ plastered a tense smile upon his face and lifted the microphone as he spoke.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, please give it up for the mother of the groom, the incomparable Bryanna Charles Baron-Wilde.”

  Raucous applause burst upon the gathering with all the men present rising politely to their feet while several of the younger guests, including the three women, hooted and hollered, “You go, Nana!”

  The older woman stood there with a sly smile on her beautifully made-up face as if she was accepting a congratulatory curtain call—something that wasn’t all that far from the truth.

  Eventually waving away the acknowledgment, she waited until everyone was seated and the room was perfectly quiet before beginning to speak.

  “Thirty years ago, our family was blessed when my beloved son Robert,” she said with a beaming smile as she turned and nodded in his direction, “was lucky enough to convince Darcy Abbott to take him on as a husband.”

  The three women seated together reached for each other’s hands in a sisterly connection that spoke volumes about their relationship.

  “It sounds lovely now but at the time, my husband and I weren’t so sure these two would ever make it to the altar.”

  A titter of amusement could be heard around the room while at the head table, the anniversary couple elbowed each other playfully. Although his hair was now shot with gray, Robert Baron-Wilde was still a devastatingly handsome man and the woman he gazed at with such love and longing, his beautiful wife Darcy, looked more bride than middle-aged mother.

  “The Baron-Wilde family have always been an interesting lot, to say the least,” the older woman stated emphatically. “As most of you know, I led my dear Anthony on quite the adventure before he managed to haul me in front of a preacher!”

  The three young women giggled as she spoke.

  “It was pretty amusing to watch many years later when young Darcy did the same thing.” Smiling broadly and casting the woman in bridal white a conspiratorial wink, she let the laughter die down before continuing.

  “In honor of this momentous occasion celebrating their thirty years of marriage, I’m going to add a new chapter to the Baron-Wilde family lore and let you all in on a little-known fact about Robert and Darcy’s journey.”

  If her statement was meant to grab everyone’s attention, she succeeded because almost the second those words left her mouth, every pair of eyes in the room blinked and grew wide.

  “As you know, my Robert was something of a bonehead all those years ago. After several years of dating and even after they were living together, he seemed incapable of sealing the deal. Poor Darcy,” Bryanna mocked while giving her son a pointed look. “She real
ly did put up with his nonsense much longer than I would have. Anthony and I made a bet one night which if he didn’t, as they say, shit or get off the pot”—this comment was met with a ripple of good-natured laughs—“that we were sure Darcy would haul butt in the other direction. A little like I did,” she added with a flourish.

  “Now, I may or may not have had a hand in what happened next, but sure as we predicted, the day came when my son was given his hat after Darcy packed her bags and went off to London to pursue the dreams she’d put on hold while Robert dragged his feet.”

  “Idiot,” someone in the gathering shouted. “What an ass,” cried another.

  Grinning like the proverbial Cheshire cat, she nodded her head dramatically in agreement.

  “Anthony was sure his son would immediately come to his senses and track her down, but I disagreed, so we set up a friendly wager.”

  Gently fingering a long necklace hung with a diamond-encrusted owl showing emerald eyes, she smiled and sighed softly.

  “I knew Robert would hem and haw, so we bet on a timeframe. Since almost three months passed before someone,” she sniped with a raised eyebrow, “finally dusted off his passport, I won the bet! This necklace was my prize. Anthony thought the owl was fitting because I had clearly demonstrated knowledge of our son’s foolishness that he hadn’t seen.”

  Stopping to remove the necklace, Bryanna walked over to where Darcy sat, leaned in and kissed her affectionately on the cheek, then straightened and placed the glittering jeweled owl around her daughter-in-law’s neck.

  “This is where it belongs now,” she told her with a knowing smile. “Mothers always know, yes?”

  “Mom,” Robert choked out in a voice brimming with undisguised emotion.

  Bryanna stroked his face lovingly and put her palm to his cheek. “This woman has stood by you, given you three beautiful children, and put up with a family that is sometimes hard to deal with. I love her like she’s my own child and am proud to call her my daughter.”

  The three women sniffled and reached into their purses to extract tissues as they watched their parents and grandmother embrace. It was a lovely moment that they would remember forever.

  Now it was Robert Baron-Wilde’s turn to talk. After wiping away some tears with his pocket handkerchief, he guided his aging mother to her seat, kissed his adoring wife on the lips, then straightened and addressed their guests.

  “Well,” he said with a chuckle. “Following Bryanna Charles in the spotlight is no easy thing! Thanks for that, Mom.” The room laughed along with his jest.

  “I had no idea that you and Dad made a bet around my stupidity, but I’m glad you did, and gladder than you’ll ever know that Darcy hadn’t slammed the door shut on a future with me.” Smiling down at his wife he drawled, “But that doesn’t mean she didn’t make me crawl, beg, cry, plead, and whine until she finally agreed to marry my sorry ass. I’m not surprised at all to learn that you may have had a hand in that, Mom.”

  Bryanna waved her hand at him and shook her head as if to imply she was innocent—but everyone in the room knew better.

  “I thought that our wedding day was the most significant event we’d ever share—but I was wrong when four years after that momentous occasion our family started to grow.” Reaching down to grab hold of his wife’s hand, he bent over and raised it to his lips for a gentlemanly kiss on her knuckles.

  With her hand in his, Robert turned watery eyes on the three young women sniffling and smiling at them from a front table.

  “My beautiful wife gave me a love I am thankful for every single day and blessed our marriage with the birth of three wonderful, amazing daughters who have given us more joy than we ever imagined.” A murmur of acknowledgment greeted his words.

  “You know, daughters are like snowflakes. They are the same on the outside, beautiful, loving, and kind. But on the inside, each is unique and entirely different from her sisters.”

  Darcy blew her children a kiss and mouthed I love you, as the girls struggled to keep their composure.

  “Our first blessing was Brynn. In every way that counts, she is a Baron-Wilde through and through. Her mother and I are so proud of what she’s doing, and I’d be remiss if I didn’t throw in a shameless plug for the business she started all by herself. I expect everyone in this room to get their asses upstate to visit Wilde Bakery and hopefully by this time next year, Baron’s Tea Room will have a grand opening. We love you, sweetie.”

  Brynn pressed her lips together to stop the torrent of tears threatening to fall while her two sisters on either side hugged her tight.

  “Two years after our Brynnie lit up our lives, a real firecracker joined the bunch when Rhiann came along. Our perpetual girly-girl, I never remember her in anything but a dress and always, always with a new pair of shoes! Even as a schoolgirl, she was quite the fashionista and her love of footwear only grew worse as she got older.”

  Laughter erupted around the room when Rhiann lifted her foot and wiggled it declaring, “Jimmy Choo,” with a silly giggle.

  Robert shook his head and crooked a half-smile. “Our Rhiann lives in the Big Apple now and has an impressive job with a fashion magazine where she heads the marketing department. We are so damn proud of you for chasing your dreams, daughter.” Laughing, he added, “I see your mother eyeing those shoes, honey, and I feel a New York City shopping spree coming on.”

  “Perfect time to put my discount to good use,” Rhiann yelled out with a hooting laugh.

  Then he turned a warm, loving smile on Charlize. “And then there’s sweet Charlie. Darcy had a hard time with our third, and she was something of a surprise, but one we give thanks for every day.” Looking around the room as he tightened his grip on his wife’s fingers, he covered their clasped hands with his other and smiled indulgently. “Did you know that Charlize graduated from art school? Quite an accomplishment. Right now she’s helping Brynn finish the remodeling at Mom and Dad’s old farmhouse, and before too long, she’ll be off to Italy where she’s been accepted into a prestigious art academy. Pottery and glass, right sweetie?” he asked as Charlie beamed and nodded enthusiastically.

  “Our three snowflakes. The same but distinctly different.”

  Darcy rose and stood next to her husband as he handed her a flute of champagne. Holding his glass high, Robert offered a toast saying, “We thank you from the bottom of our hearts for coming out tonight to honor us with this marvelous celebration.”

  Tipping his glass toward those gathered, he clinked his glass with his wife, and with arms entwined, the long-married couple drank.

  Turning toward their daughters, they raised their glasses again, “To our snowflakes. We love you, Brynn, Rhiann, and Charlize.”

  “Hear, hear,” someone called out.

  It was Bryanna Charles Baron-Wilde who got the last word in, of course, when she raised her glass to all present and said, “To my son Robert, his beautiful bride Darcy, and their three magnificent daughters. Wishing you all love, laughter, and a lifetime of happiness.”

  TOP 10 THINGS THAT MAKE Me Want to Stick a Fork in my Eye:

  Entertaining a bunch of assholes with no couth or sense of decorum, whatsoever

  Los Angeles. Specifically the thirty million vehicles for the eighteen million residents

  The media. With qualification …

  As Cal formulated a Letterman-style top ten in his mind, he was navigating a semi-straight path to, well…anywhere he could be alone for ten goddamn minutes. He’d had enough and needed to clear his head, which must be why he was engaging in mental scene setting.

  Growing up with a high school principal for a father meant mealtimes were command performances. Everyone came to the table with stuff to share and an expectation of engaging in family conversation. That’s just the way it was.

  Thinking you could get away with a simple comment, pick up a fork and dive into the mac ‘n cheese was just stupid. Plus, Jax, being the prick an older brother is supposed to be, took way too much delight
in endlessly trying to trip him up when it was his turn to talk. Some of his earliest memories involved walking home from school with a play-by-play setting up in his head so that he could hold his own around the dinner table.

  Visuals were his thing. If he could see it, he could make it happen. The thing was, this odd quirk meant he was forever running an alternate scene in his overactive mind. Like right now.

  He might be in the middle of a ridiculously over-the-top circus, an eye-rolling requisite for a top tier European Formula One team, but that didn’t stop him from a clever and usually snarky-as-fuck internal monologue.

  A pack of lingerie models were advancing on him through a throng of styled and bearded hipster types who luckily gave him some inadvertent help just by physically being in the way. His celebrity put a sex bulls-eye on his chest and made him the focus of many a prowling female out for a raunchy fuck. Now he really needed to get the hell away from everyone before ending up down in the pool house getting worked over by four surgically enhanced fuck-toys.

  The burning ache in his back killed the mood an hour ago. Though he spent way too much time convincing everyone he was just fine and dandy following an ugly crash during a practice session earlier in the year, the truth was a bit more basic. Cal knew his time behind the wheel was coming to an end. Physically and emotionally, he just couldn’t take it anymore. In a word, he was fucked.

  After making an obligatory circuit through the crush of bodies packed in the tiered garden of his rented villa, he shook hands, signed autographs, and posed for endless selfie requests while wishing he was anywhere but here. Some days it was great to be him. This wasn’t one of those days.

  “Mi scusi, Signore Tyler…”

  Shit. He’d know that insincere voice anywhere. How the hell did this paparazzi scum get past security? Massaging the back of his neck as tension radiated from his spine, Cal released a soft grunt. Dammit. Guess it was too much to hope for a quick cameo and an immediate escape.

  Tempting as it was to crush the little turd with a few choice words, instead, he straightened and slapped a benign expression on his face. Making nice was the best way to avoid a scene. Only the thing was while most of the paps played along and went out of their way to get the inside track, this shithead was exactly the opposite.