by Colet Abedi
“That plate of goodies you chose all on your own makes you the most attractive woman at the party,” a husky voice says to me from behind.
I turn around and for the first time come face-to-face with Colt Harrington, Kerri’s brother. I recognize him from all the pictures around the house, and honestly, they don’t do him justice. He’s better looking in person. He has sandy-blond hair and blue eyes, like Kerri. He’s tall and fit, like the way you’d picture a Norse God. And I’m sure the mischievous look in his eyes has made many hearts pitter-patter. Kerri tells me he’s a bit of a player and that she really doesn’t believe he’ll ever settle down.
“Is it the carbs?” I ask as I lift a tiny croissant.
“You eat,” he says in admiration, and we both laugh. From the way he’s looking at me, I can tell he’s interested. “I’m Colt.”
“Wylder.”
“I like it.” Colt checks me out. “And I remember hearing about you. So now I actually like a lot about you.”
Colt is forward and definitely has no problem making the moves on me. His confidence is actually really attractive.
“That’s too bad,” Kerri says, cutting in as she slips her arm around his waist. “Cause she’s my best friend, and I’m keeping her.”
Colt picks Kerri up in his arms and hugs her tightly. The love they have for each other is evident for anyone to see. Kerri has never said anything but good things about her brother, and I know they speak pretty often, which is surprising considering their ten-year age gap. You would think they wouldn’t be this close.
“How’s my princess doing?” he asks as he spins her around and then sets her on the ground. “How does she feel about joining the work force?”
“She likes it for the most part,” Kerri tells him. “But some of the people are definitely assholes.”
“When you’re done playing around, let me know because we have a seat reserved for you at the big table.”
I watch Kerri grimace. I know what Colt is referring to. Her brother and father want her to join the family business. They think this entertainment pursuit is a joke and a waste of her time.
Sometimes I wonder how Kerri feels about it all because I don’t really know if I believe her heart is in entertainment.
“Never happening,” she says with a sweet smile. “Now where’s your favorite and only sister’s gift? You were in Hong Kong, Singapore, and Japan for over three months… Just so you know, I’m expecting something that’s going to blow my mind.”
I don’t know what else Kerri could ever have that could blow anyone’s mind, including her own, but if anyone can find it, it would probably be her brother who grew up with the same silver spoon.
“I got you something very different this time.” It sounds mysterious. “I’m hoping it will inspire you.”
“I’m intrigued.” I look at Kerri and lift a brow.
“And I’m very intrigued by you,” Colt says as he takes a step toward me.
“Step away from the best friend, Colt,” Kerri grumbles. “You’re not breaking any more hearts. Besides, she’s taken, and he might even be a better catch than you.”
Colt’s eyes narrow, and he cocks an arrogant brow at Kerri, asking how that could even be possible.
It’s possible.
He casually takes Kerri’s drink out of her hand and sips on it. “I guess it’s settled then. Wylder’s off limits.” He sighs dramatically. “So let’s just get trashed. I’ll give you your present later.”
Kerri gives her brother a wide smile. “Then we’ll just eat and play Monopoly in the den,” Kerri says in excitement.
“With Game of Thrones on in the background,” I say like a little kid.
“Let’s go,” Kerri says.
Along our way to the soon-to-be-party room, Colt grabs a bottle of vodka from behind the bar and as many glasses as he can hold. He whispers to one of the waiters, and I’m sure he’s telling them to bring food and drink into the study. Kerri invites a couple of her fun cousins to join, and before you know it, we’re having a full game-day party in the den, and it couldn’t be more fun.
“OMG, Wyld.” Kerri practically stumbles toward me, more buzzed than I’ve ever seen her in my life. “Let’s do a funny post for Instagram.”
I wonder if it’s a good idea. “I don’t know…”
“Come on!” Kerri pats my cheek, then has one of her cousin’s film us on her iPhone. We both do a funny dance she intends on speeding up and posting on her Insta Story.
This post leads to another and then another, and soon enough, we’ve got even poor, drunk Colt to dance in between us. We hug. We toast. We are basically a bunch of hot messes all over social media. I’ll probably be embarrassed tomorrow, but today—right now to be exact—it feels really good. I know I’m the dancing queen. I know I am.
After we’re all lying on the couch in a drunken food coma and watching Game of Thrones, I finally remember to check my phone. OMG. I totally forgot to text Jamie. It’s been hours, and I feel like such a jerk.
There are definitely a few missed calls.
And some texts.
I try to focus my eyes, which is hard to do considering the amount of alcohol I’ve consumed, but then I feel sobriety start to sink in as my eyes scan the words on the screen.
JAMIE: Hi babe, how’s your day?
An hour later, he sends a funny-face emoji.
Two hours later comes the oh-shit-I-might-be-in-trouble moment.
JAMIE: Who’s the prick you’re dancing with?
And then there’s nothing.
He saw Kerri’s Insta Story. Oh, no… There’s no way it was pretty. I text him back quickly.
ME: Hi! Sorry I haven’t texted. I think we had a few too many! I’m just hanging with Kerri and her brother, Colt.
No response.
I wait a few minutes, then send him my own funny-face emoji. Still no response. What the fuck? He can’t be that mad, can he? And then I think about how I would react… I would want to kill me! I’m so crazy, I’d probably even break up with him.
Break up with him!
Oh, no. That’s a terrible idea!
I get up quickly and move away from the group. They don’t mind because they are all glued to the television watching “The Red Wedding.” I call Jamie. It rings a few times, then goes to voicemail. To be honest, I start to really panic. I can’t help myself and call again like a psycho.
And repeat. One more time and it doesn’t even ring. It goes to his voicemail. I hang up and close my eyes.
He can’t really be mad, can he?
He’s so fucking mad.
Unfortunately, I worry myself right into sobriety, and once in this state, I start to panic. I realize I’m going to need to get a grip. I can’t do anything or defend myself until I hear from him. And who knows, I might be overreacting.
Nice try.
There’s absolutely nothing for me to do or that I can do until he calls me back. I walk to the couch and sit back down. I try not to let misery take over, but I can’t help it. I’m really worried.
I make eye contact with Kerri, and she looks concerned. I must look as sick as I feel. I shake my head and mouth to her that I’m okay but do take the moment to reach over and grab my newly refilled martini. I’m guessing Kerri took care of that empty glass problem for me.
Jamie doesn’t call all night or respond to any of my texts. When I don’t hear from him, I know my worst suspicions have come to life.
He always texts and always calls. It’s just who he is, so I know he is for sure ignoring me. When I crawl into my bed that night, I do break the seal and text him one more time before I thankfully pass out.
The message is honest and comes from my heart.
ME: I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.
––––––––––
I’m lying in bed and having the best dream of my life.
The best.
I’m on a beach with Jamie, and he has me naked. He’s massaging my breas
ts, stroking me until I’m whimpering, and I’m begging him for release. Suddenly it’s there, and it’s happening, and I’m coming so hard, and oh, wow—
I’m really coming.
I open my eyes and look at the tanned, muscular arm wrapped around my waist. I’d recognize it anywhere. It belongs to Jamie Donovan.
I close my eyes. Am I tripping? Were those brownies we ate last night laced with something I didn’t know about?
No. That’s his Jamie smell around me… like pine and rain and something fresh and happy. Something you want to come home to.
“Jamie?” I whisper in surprise and serious euphoria.
“Wylder.” His gruff voice rambles against my neck.
I turn in his arms and wrap myself around him like a vine. I rain kisses all over his face and chest. I’m so happy to see him that it takes me a moment to notice he’s just lying there on his back with his fingers laced behind his neck, staring up at me like I’m the sweetest thing he’s ever seen.
I stop what I’m doing and look at him in trepidation. “I thought you were mad at me.”
“I was mad at you,” he admits slowly and almost methodically. “But then halfway here on the plane I chartered—after ripping my pilot away from his family at midnight on Thanksgiving evening and leaving my own shocked and thinking there’s seriously something wrong with their son—I realized how insane my behavior was.”
I fight a smile, but his next words stop me cold.
“I realized I was acting like you.” His eyes narrow and darken. “I had officially become Wylder Alma Buchanan. I might as well have a period.”
“Right.” I narrow my eyes at him.
“I was irrational. I was mad at you for no reason. For drunk-dancing with some loser?” When he says this, he stops to think about it for a moment and then his body goes taut. There’s a fire shooting out of his eyes, and it nearly takes my breath away. “By the way, if you ever do that again, I’ll fucking murder him and chain you to my side,” he practically growls. “I’m not going to see another video, picture, or any type of social media shit like that again, Wylder. I’m not. Not my girlfriend. Promise me right now.”
I don’t love his tone or him ordering me around, but I understand why he’s mad. And I get it. He’s in the public eye and if I’m with him, I guess I am now by default—and not only, I put myself in his shoes and I wouldn’t like it either.
“I promise.”
“Good.” He closes his eyes and shakes his head. He sounds exhausted. “You’re a fucking witch.”
“What?” I gasp in outrage.
“I left my family on Thanksgiving evening.” He seems really mad at himself, and it makes me feel guilty, but then he says the best thing ever. “And I’m fucking happy I did. I’d rather be with you.”
He stares at me long and hard, his greens eyes bright with something I’ve never seen.
“I must be in love with your or something, because there is no other logical fucking explanation for my temporary insanity.” Jamie sounds like he’s just tasted something bitter and pungent, something he really finds repulsive.
And I think I’m going to faint.
Holy.
Shit.
Chapter Twelve
He fucked me pretty hard after he admitted what he felt about me.
I loved every minute of it. I can’t wait to tell him I’m in love with him in return, but I want to do it in a special way. I won’t make him wait long… maybe just a few hours. I left Jamie so he could nap. Poor guy was super exhausted from all the flying he’s done, and I’m now in the kitchen making eggs for myself.
I’m not surprised when Colt then Kerri join me within minutes of me at the stove. I’m sure the smell of the greasy eggs woke them up. Kerri eyes what I’m making with great interest.
“I need those,” she commands in a rather regal way. It’s impressive.
“I think you were totally a queen in another life,” I say as I push cooked eggs onto a plate and hand it to her.
She looks at me and cocks an arrogant brow.
“God forbid she was some poor beggar on the street.” Colt shakes his head in amusement. “Let me guess, you think she was Cleopatra?”
Kerri gives him a look that basically says if the shoe fits… She puts a giant forkful of eggs in her mouth.
“What about me?” Colt grumbles, then picks up a fork and takes a bite from her plate.
“I’m making more,” I promise him. “But you definitely don’t give off the queen vibe.”
Kerri thinks my comment is hilarious. Colt flicks her head with his finger, then stands and makes his way to the fridge. He grabs a bottle of fresh orange juice and helps himself to a glass.
“What are you doing here anyway?” Kerri asks in annoyance. “No one asked you to sleep in the third room.”
“I couldn’t safely make it back to the house after bringing you guys here,” Colt admits with chagrin. “Probably shouldn’t have carted you two either.”
“Probably not.” It’s only funny because we’re okay.
“Christ.” Colt runs his hand through his thick hair. “My head is killing me.”
“Morning.” Jamie’s sleepy and raspy voice echoes through kitchen. We all turn to see Mr. Fucking Donovan, bare-chested and barefoot, wearing only a pair of black cotton sweats and looking ruggedly delicious—basically good enough to eat—hot, and holy hell handsome.
Why did I leave him in bed all alone?
And he thinks he must be in love with me.
I could scream.
On the inside, I do a backflip, then run around and do a happy dance. I then astral-project myself to Jamie and French-kiss him. It’s hot.
Kerri waves. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Don’t worry. I didn’t crawl over the fence,” Jamie smirks at her.
“Crawl over the fence?” Colt’s voice is cold. “Our security would have had you in handcuffs in less than two minutes.”
Jamie cocks his head to the side and smiles.
“Well then, it’s a good thing your security team loves my movies because they had no problem letting me in.” Jamie’s smile is smug when he says, “They even asked for autographs.”
Colt looks like he wants to kill him, then fire the entire Harrington staff. Kerri claps her hands in delight and laughs in amusement. I have to hand it to Jamie. He definitely knows how to get the upper hand.
“Eggs, baby?” I ask him in a soft voice.
“Yes.” He looks unsure.
“What?” I question.
“Do you really know how to cook?”
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t ask me that question,” I say.
“Her eggs are the bomb,” Kerri says loyally as she shoves another forkful of eggs in her mouth. “Colt, get us some toast, and Wyld, I swear there’s pancake mix in the cabinet. Let’s do it.”
“Pancake mix?” Jamie looks at her in horror.
“What?” Kerri shrugs. “So good.”
“Hell. No.” Jamie looks at her like she’s crazy and makes his way into the kitchen.
“I don’t think so.” I shake my head. “I’m cooking today. You get to relax.”
“I’m not eating pancakes out of a box,” Jamie sounds like the snob he is.
“I second that,” Colt says, reluctantly agreeing.
“And nobody will,” I say. “Just enjoy yourselves and relax. Maybe someone can make a hangover smoothie.”
“I call that a Bloody Mary,” Kerri says.
“Whatever name you want to give it.” I smile. “You should make some.”
“I was going to give our livers a break, but why not?” Kerri stands. “Jamie’s here to stay, and we should welcome him the Harrington way.”
I laugh. “Kind of my way too.”
“I’m not going to stay here for the weekend.” Jamie seems surprised we’d both even think that would be the case. “I’m going to go home, to my house, but I’m definitely in for a Bloody Mary and maybe lunch after br
eakfast.”
I’m devastated he’s not going to stay, but I understand why he’d feel weird crashing in my friend’s guesthouse.
“That’s too bad,” Kerri says and looks at me. “Does that mean you’re taking Wylder with you?”
I look at Jamie with wide eyes. I sure hope he is, and I really hope Kerri won’t mind.
“I planned on it.” His voice is possessive. “Unless you guys have some Black Friday sale you have to go to.”
“I’d rather light myself on fire.” The words come right out of my mouth. My mom and dad used to make me tag along to those sales because it was the only time we could really afford anything. I still have nightmares from those days.
“I second that,” Kerri says.
“Speaking of the holiday weekend,” Jamie says as he holds up his phone. “Looks like Duff is projected to be the box office surprise hit.”
I totally forgot about our bet.
“No. Way.” I shake my head and start cracking more eggs. “Kerri, will you check?”
“Even though I find it grossly offensive you don’t trust me, I’ll let you have it.” Jamie smiles sweetly.
Kerri does as I ask, and sure enough, Jamie’s eerily right.
“Get ready to pay up.” Jamie’s smile is wolfish.
“You placed a bet on this?” Kerri shakes her head at me in disappointment. “You never go up against a real director, especially considering you’re still an amateur.”
I hate to hear it, but she’s right.
“There are still three days left.” There’s no way I’m going to win. I’m only saying it to save face.
“Nice try.” Jamie scoffs, then turns around and goes on a search for the television remote. Once he finds it, he expertly flips through channels until he’s on college football. He lifts his arms in excitement.
I wish I could be annoyed by it, but it’s kind of cute. He looks so happy. He falls back on one of the couches and looks so content and comfortable, like there’s no way he’s going to move for the rest of the day.
