Brother's Keeper V: Wylie (the complete series BOX SET): NEW RELEASE + Series Box SET included!

by Stephanie St. Klaire

  “Uh huh, beautiful, like me…got it.” Laughter escaped him, a sound she didn’t hear too often.

  A dramatic teasing eye roll later, she added, “Just forget I even said that part. I don’t think I can fix it, no matter what I say, so…forget it.”

  “Got it.” He appeased her with a playful wink as he headed into the house. “Why don’t you hit the shower first.”

  “We can shower at the same time, if you want to.” It wasn’t until Declan turned around with raised eyebrows and a sultry stare that she realized what she had said. “Oh, my God. I mean…we have two showers. We can shower together…in different showers!”

  “Thanks for clearing that up.” He tried not to sound disappointed. “You need the heat and water pressure for your muscles, or you’ll be sore by evening.”

  “I’ll be fine, but thanks.” Without another word or eye contact, she walked around him and went to her room and closed the door.

  Her abundance of confidence and stubborn disposition left him laughing. Despite her insistence that she didn’t need the head start on the hot water, he knew she would, even if it meant he took a cold one. He needed one.

  She worked hard trying to keep up, and every bend, crunch, and pull up in those tiny shorts flashed the bottom curve of her perfect ass and ample cleavage her tiny tank left on display for his viewing pleasure. His favorite was the bounce of said tits that matched that of her perfect ass when she ran or jumped.

  He tried not to look, but with his hands around her waist, helping her through pull ups, and holding her unstill feet through crunches made that an impossible task. An uncomfortable sensation stirred him from his thoughts. His shorts began to tighten – that cold shower was no longer a maybe but a must, and he’d likely have to toss in a romantic gesture with his hand to relieve the lusty thoughts she inspired in him.

  Declan was a gentleman and a professional, who knew where to draw the line. Lydia challenged that line, though, like no one else ever had. He couldn’t give in to her unintentional allure and act on urges that were nothing more than the result of a lengthy dry spell. As soon as this was over, he needed to get laid. In the meantime, these morning workouts just may be the death of him.

  Finally ready for the day, he searched the house for Lydia without any luck. She had long since been out of the shower; he heard it turn off before starting his, but she never left her room. With the door closed, he gently knocked to no answer. Though he knew they were safe, for now, a stir of unease got the better of him. Whether it was something sinister, or just a relapse of her emotions, he opened the door, prepared for anything. Always her protector.

  The anxiety softened when all he found was Lydia sound asleep on top of her already made bed, still wrapped in her towel. He paused to take her in since staring in general was rude – if she didn’t know, it didn’t count. She was peaceful, her expression free of worry or anger. He hoped her dreams were equally void of anguish, hence the expression.

  Moving closer, he placed a bottle of water on her nightstand that he had grabbed from the kitchen when passing through, looking for her. When he pulled the folded blanket from the foot of her bed over her, Lydia’s glistening skin, still wet from the shower, had his attention. So did the goosebumps he created when he slid the blanket up her body. Fully aware that he caused those goosebumps, he reminded himself of the cold shower he had taken only moments before to tame the virility that threatened an embarrassing outcome.

  She snuggled into the blanket, her new-found comfort tempting him to join her. He hated himself for the thoughts crossing his mind and the vision of her that was now and forever engrained in his mind. It lacked control, completely impulse driven and as far from professional as he’d ever been.

  This wasn’t like him; Lydia was under his skin in a good way that left him bad. She’d played a role in his silent affections for some time, despite his best efforts – she was married after all, and he wasn’t a homewrecker.

  He didn’t even have time for anything other than a one-night stand with a girl who didn’t even know his name – anything more, and he had an instant target in bed next to him. That thought alone, as he slowly backed away from Lydia’s bedside, excusing himself from her room, was the cold shower he needed. Even if there were mutual affections, at some point, there could be no future. His life was far too dangerous, full of too many enemies, and he would protect her from it all by protecting her from himself.

  10

  Sunlight creeping through the blinds and curtains woke Lydia from her unintended nap. Feeling every muscle as she stretched, she remembered how her early morning had started. It was late morning according to her nightstand clock – she had slept for several hours after her workout with Declan.

  Smiling at the thought of him, awareness began to set in when she saw the bottled water sitting next to her bed. He had checked on her and must’ve covered her. With a quick jolt, she sat up and looked under the blanket, recalling that she hadn’t even dressed when she first laid down. She hadn’t meant to fall into a deep slumber, but had and hoped that she didn’t flash Declan with a free show, having only been covered in her towel.

  Given how she had been laying and the way the towel was wrapped, she was probably safe. There was a part of her that still wondered, though, and that wonder settled in a pool of heat in her belly. If he had seen anything, what did he think? A man of few words, he grunted a lot – she wondered if he grunted at her half naked body? There it was again, that train of thought that should never have entered her mind to begin with.

  Lydia pondered those thoughts while she got ready for the day. It was completely inappropriate for her to even wonder what he thought of her, much less feel warm and fuzzy about it. She was, indeed, still married – a technicality she would resolve when she was able.

  When Lydia went to the kitchen for a bite to eat, her attention was caught by a spread of items on the counter, assumed to be for her. A smile stretched from ear to ear when she saw that there was a vegetable based protein powder sitting next to a blender-like smoothie maker. There were also two complete sets of very conservative work-out clothes.

  Her heart swelled at the thoughtful items. Declan, it seemed, had a soft side despite his angry ogre first impressions. She went to work, gathering some of her Farmers Market finds to make him a quick and refreshing thank you. While she was at it, she couldn’t help but giggle at the long work out pants and long, crew neck shirts that were going to be loose as they were a size too big. The short shorts and tank must’ve been too much for him.

  With two green smoothies in hand, Lydia met Declan out back just as he was hanging up his cell phone.

  “Wow, what do we have here?” he asked, making a sour face.

  “Real food – it will hydrate you, give you a boost, great skin, hair, and just overall refreshing,” she claimed with confidence.

  “A smoothie? Does all of that?” he laughed, just before taking a drink. “It’s a fruity milkshake.”

  “It’s healthy! You should appreciate that, given your…physique…and…all that…” Waving a hand in front of Declan, Lydia was indicating that was Declan. “…muscle…stuff…you…have.”

  A mischievous grin stretched across his face. “Muscle stuff? I’m old fashion I guess. I don’t do all of the protein powders and such, just exercise hard, every single day, and try to eat decent, but I never skip a beer.”

  “Must be nice in those jeans,” she replied

  He looked down at his jeans, then back to her day dreamy eyes and that grin became a full-blown smile. Raised eyebrows alerted her to his amusement, and she quickly realized what she had just said.

  “Genes, I mean! It must be nice to have the kind of genes that make for a perfectly sculpted body that comes so easily.”

  “Perfectly sculpted body, huh?” He laughed when she buried her face in her palm.

  Completely embarrassed, she quickly scolded, “Don’t let that go to your head…and you know what I mean!”

  Trying
to relieve the rosy cheeks she was currently wearing, he flexed then bounced his pecs. “Well, I am blessed to look like this.”

  Lydia rolled her eyes in dramatic fashion before turning away so the effect he had on her went unnoticed. Sitting in silence, they enjoyed the view in the warm morning sun while finishing their smoothies. There was news to share after his phone call just moments earlier, but he didn’t want to ruin her spirited mood. However, stalling might prove to work against him in the long run.

  “So, uh, I have an update,” he said, testing the waters.

  “An update? Jax and Trin?” Her hopeful tone left him feeling a bit guilty because the news wasn’t about those whom she wanted to know.

  “Actually, no. Esteban,” he started, watching her reaction, “knows now. He is in mourning. He thinks it was a hit or a warning, so he left the country like a coward. No surprise there.”

  “Oh. Okay, then. So, what next?” A melancholy vibe settled in and could be heard in her tone.

  “We watch for him at the funeral. He has his people organizing a funeral for all three of you. We’ll grab him there before he leaves again. He’s spooked, which is good; it means he’s likely to make a mistake. That’s what we want,” Declan replied, trying to offer some sort of positive spin to an entirely adverse situation.

  “Three of us?” she questioned. “What about you? Declan, you were his right hand! Well, Jason was…”

  Lydia was appalled by the idea that someone who did so much for Esteban, for their family, could just be swept away, as if he never mattered. She hurt for him – the message Esteban was sending was more than hateful. More and more, as the story unfolded, she found it easier to see the monster that was Esteban. It didn’t help the loss she felt over her son and sister, but it certainly helped her get over the loss of a marriage that was obviously broken from go.

  She had questioned herself previously – had her desire to fix her marriage been out of love or habit. If there were ever a doubt before, she could confidently say now…it was habit. No love lost.

  “I guess I didn’t rank as much as we thought.” Declan shrugged, not nearly as hurt as she was. “To him, people are disposable. Get what you want and move on – just business. As far as he knew, I had no family. I guess he did buy a random plot somewhere, and he’s having me buried – just no service.”

  “I suppose you’re right. And it isn’t just in business. He got what he wanted the day I finally said yes, and then he moved on.”

  Stunned by the revelations, Lydia was saddened more for Declan than herself. Her husband ran the minute she died, worried only about himself. That spoke volumes. He had other people, most likely strangers, plan a service for their family. That spoke even louder.

  Jason, as they knew him, had been such a big part of their lives, family really. He was Esteban’s most trusted companion, which was why he was assigned to Lydia and Jax most of the time. His most trusted associate, looking out for his most loved people – or so she had thought.

  It broke her heart that Declan had been so, as he put it, disposable. Quickly tossed aside without a single care – wasn’t that what Esteban was essentially doing where she and Jax were concerned too? Another reason to despise the man and live without regret from this day forward. He deserved everything he had coming.

  She sat in wonder for a moment before addressing something she felt the need to express. “I hope you know that the feeling isn’t shared. You do matter. You were a big part of our lives as Jason – even if it was just a job to you – you were part of our family and just like Trinity and Jax…I grieved you, too.”

  Leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped together, he nodded, appreciating the sentiment as it said far more than words could have expressed. Though she had trouble showing it, she did trust him, cared on some level. That meant the world to him.

  “Well, that part is done. I thought you should know. Now we just sit back and wait.”

  A grin that said challenge accepted took over her expression, “Once I waited four weeks for the new couture line to go from runway to rack at Barney’s because the plant in Singapore that was manufacturing it all burned to the ground…I can sooo do this.”

  “Woooow,” he teased, grasping his chest with exaggerated enthusiasm, “four weeks? That’s like totally impressive!”

  A playful smack to his hard as a rock bicep for teasing her earned her a dramatic eye roll in return. It also left her with goosebumps – perhaps from the brief connection of feeling him under her hand. He liked that, even though he shouldn’t.

  “Go get ready to work out,” he said.

  With a confused cock of her head, she asked, “Work out? We already did!”

  Taking to his feet, he headed toward the door. “That was strength and endurance. We are going to learn self-defense now, so wear street clothes so you become comfortable with it in any attire. Next, I’ll teach you to shoot.”

  He laughed at her slack jaw and wide eyes. It was probably the idea of shooting a gun that got her. Lydia had a tough spirit, and that would go a long way, but she needed to be physically tougher. Comparing waiting out an international murdering cartel boss to a sale at Barneys told him just how much tougher he needed to make her. Sure, she was kidding, but it was a chilly reminder of the pampered life she had always known. It was time to turn pampered to badass.

  Given the threat they were under, and risks he was taking, there was always a chance that something could happen to him, God forbid. That was his real worry – what would she do then. He needed to give her the tools and skills to fight back.

  For now, things were looking up. There was a plan in place to lure Esteban out of hiding and nail his ass once and for all. Staying hidden was key, though not easy, but they now had a routine to keep them busy and their time occupied.

  More importantly, though, Lydia trusted Declan. She was fighting back, taking control of her life as much as she could, and getting stronger mentally and emotionally. They were also getting along. The tears were fewer, their interactions better, and they genuinely enjoyed their time together which made their situation a hell of a lot less lonely.

  For now.

  11

  Esteban was a no show. The funeral had come and gone, and the bastard couldn’t be bothered to attend the service for his dead wife and child. Word on the street was that he was just too devastated and distraught; it was more than he could bear.

  Truth was, he was a fucking coward. The circumstances around his wife and son’s deaths didn’t smell right to him, and he stayed as hidden as Lydia and Declan were. What was even more sad was that it wasn’t because he suspected they were really alive – that part of the ruse was a solid success – it was that he cared more about himself than lost loved ones. He didn’t want to be some random enemy’s next hit.

  Rather than say goodbye, he hid, while his people searched for clues as to who did them in, just in case they were after him next. Paranoia will do that to you. What wasn’t clear was what came first, the paranoia or the selfish, sociopathic tendencies.

  As if confirming your husband didn’t give two shits about your death because he gave even less when you were alive wasn’t hard enough – hard truths came in other ways. Lydia and Trinity had been as close as sisters could be growing up and through their adulthood, but that family bond began and ended with the two of them. They were raised by nannies, not their parents, as children for looks – possessions – nothing more.

  Their parents had always taken care of them financially, made sure they had the best of everything, traveled, the best schools, anything and everything at their fingertips. What they didn’t provide was affection, concern, support, or love. That could be seen even in their death.

  The Prescott family was known for their money and prestige, but they were cold as hell. One would think that burying your daughters would attract a certain attention, maybe even a bit of regret for time lost, but it didn’t. They couldn’t even be bothered to show up on ti
me. They were the last to arrive with their full entourage of doting assistants in tow, and the first to leave without a single word to anyone much less a single tear shed.

  It was an odd event and Lydia struggled with what it all meant. It was so superficial, unimportant, lacked real emotion or celebration. Was her funeral a reflection of her life? Had she been so shallow and surrounded by such a façade that even in fake death, she learned how little of an impact she had while supposedly alive?

  There were more people from the media and curious strangers there than anything. No real friends, no real family, not even her husband. If you want to know where you rank in the world – die – it paints the entire picture.

  Declan had his own people blending in the crowd, unbeknownst to the undercovers from his agency. It seemed that Esteban was believed to be on a yacht somewhere in the middle of an ocean, grieving with champagne and a harem of whores. Classy.

  Lydia was struggling enough without that piece of information, so Declan kept it to himself. All of the personal progress they had made the past few weeks, building some sort of friendship, had completely unwound. Overcome with sadness and quiet, she had crawled back into that place she was the first few days of their journey.

  It was to be expected, on some level, watching your own funeral on T.V., reading about it in the paper, and finding out just where you stood in the world wasn’t easy. She was questioning it all. The proverbial quest to seek out the meaning of life was just dropped in her lap as a big fat, you don’t matter much. Or so she thought.

  They continued their morning work outs, though she didn’t have the same drive. During self-defense lessons, she let it all out, her sadness turning to anger. She gave him everything she had and then some. Her physical drive was intact, but her emotional drive was all over the place. Not only did Declan worry about this for obvious safety reasons, but he worried for her in other ways, too. It was hard to see her like that. She was completely crushed – devastated.