“It isn’t for a long time, I promise. So, what are you wearing?”
I laugh, both mortified and charmed by his outright, all-is-good attitude all the time.
“Brant, I have to get back to work.”
“But I’ll see you tonight at dinner?”
I blow out an uneasy breath. “I’m very tired, Brant. Plus, I have…”
“Your mystery person waiting at home?” He chuckles. “It will be a short dinner, I promise. Unless you want to extend it.”
I giggle. “No. Um, where?”
“It’s a surprise. You need to know everything?”
“No, but… I would need to know what to wear.”
“Wear whatever. You always look sexy as hell. Send me your address.”
“Okay.”
“See you tonight, doll.”
13
Brant
“You are such a lush, man. You wrote a song about her already?” Out of all of them, Evan is my worst brother.
I don’t really mean that, of course. He is just the most annoying. He is the first to make fun of us, and then he swears we ignore him. Hard to wonder why. I don’t mind much because he is my little brother, all of them are. My first instinct is to protect them even if it’s from myself.
“Yeah, I did. Nothing wrong with finding some new inspiration.” A chuckle escapes me as I move around my studio to the desk. I jot down the last thing I did before Evan called me.
He doesn’t usually call me, and it was right after my talk with Cora. Sometimes I wish I had someone to ask for advice. Since I’m the oldest, I don’t often want to bother my brothers with my shit. My mom has a lot of her own stuff to deal with, and I don’t want her thinking I’m unhappy. It used to be my dad I could go to for anything. Even over the phone, he would always tell when something was bothering me. I miss that.
I miss it the most.
“If you say so. I called for a reason.”
“What’s that? You need to borrow money?”
He laughs. “Hell no. It’s just about this girl.”
“I didn’t know you were dating.”
“I’m not. It’s complicated.”
“Okay, go.” I scratch my head but don’t know how much help I can be. I’m not good at it either. Most of the time, I need the advice. Holden is usually the reasonable and calculated one, and Dylan likes his books and stuff, so he always draws from that. I just know music and how I can use it to show how I feel.
“I don’t know her all that well, but she is in trouble, and I want to help her. Problem is it could come back on the company and both of us.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“Not anything bad. Family trouble… old-fashioned, arranged marriage trouble.”
“Shit, seriously?”
He laughs without humor. “Yeah. Seriously.”
“If you want to be there for her, be there for her. Don’t go against your instincts. If shit comes raining down after, let it come. At least you won’t have regrets.”
Evan sighs and groans. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Thanks, man.”
“Anytime.”
“And uh, you haven’t got any news?”
I laugh from my stomach. “No. I’m on break from tour. Finishing out these songs for a mini-tour in a few weeks. Oh, and I guess there is this something. I met this woman before I knew I’d have to work with her. She’s been dodging me.”
“I would dodge you, too.”
“What the hell does that mean?” I scoff.
Evan grumbles under his throat like he always does as if he has some inside joke no one knows about.
“To her, it means you’re probably just some generic rock star with rock-star problems and completely different ideals than her. Women who aren’t the groupies at your shows, and no offense to them, don’t have time to deal with all that.”
“I don’t have rock-star problems,” I lie. I have the biggest one. Technically had since I got clean. But the temptation is always there.
“That isn’t what she thinks. Look, I’m just telling you what I know. I mean, Fletch has the same problem. Not that he is actively looking, though.”
I chuckle once. “I guess you’re right. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“And prove her wrong if she’ll listen. You said you work together? Go for some unforgettable office sex. That’s one of the perks of my corner office.” He snorts, and I can’t help but laugh. Evan is that guy laughing you out of every tough situation.
“I can’t do that,” I already have her lying for me. “But I’ll keep it in mind.”
“Right on. Well, you should visit soon, Easter maybe? I have to go to this meeting.”
“Look at you, all grown up. I might stop by before tour. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Yeah.”
I hang up with a smile on my face, some tension off my shoulders. But not all of it.
I want to impress Cora tonight, and I want to be with her too. Just to be around her feels like a privilege, and I want to know everything. Evan might be right, but she has to see that I am a regular guy behind the music, behind the fame. Behind everything I’ve pretended to be for so long, I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be me.
The suit is all out—dark blue—my dress shirt is open underneath, and my hair is messy styled as always. After being afraid she wouldn’t send me her address, I relaxed when I finally got it.
My plans for the evening are in order, and I drive my Range Rover because I need the extra space for part of said plans. Her house is twenty minutes away past the highway, and I pull up right on time. I momentarily wish I brought flowers, but then I feel that Cora isn’t that type anyway. She would rather me show that I care about her than bring flowers that will die in three days.
Her front door is tan, flowers overgrowing in pots on the side. It makes me smile as I knock. Or maybe it’s just the idea of seeing her.
Seconds after I knocked, I hear footsteps kind of like two pairs, but I could be wrong. Then some hushed talking before the door swings open to my beautiful Cora, who doesn’t look at me until she is out the door, and it’s shut behind her.
“Hi.” I smile, touching her elbow with my fingertips.
“Hi.”
My eyes roam over every inch of her body because she is like an actual dream come true, especially in this dark red dress that dances off the tan of her skin, the neckline low and cut so each of her breasts press together in an all-too-lickable way. All that is nothing compared to her stunning eyes lined in black so they pop even more as she looks up at me. I beam down at her, taken all over again like the first time.
“You look so beautiful. I’m a lucky man.” I slide my hand from her elbow to her hand. Her fingers lace in mine, and I squeeze softly.
“Not that lucky.” She giggles.
I shake my head at her with a smile and tug her close to kiss her painted red lips. Her kiss is soft, I’m assuming not to mess up her lipstick, and I release her after only getting a small feeling of her full, soft lips against mine.
“You ready?” My thumb rubs her ear softly, and she mumbles something.
“Yes.”
I smirk at her and lead her to the car. During the entire drive, I hold her hand over her thigh. Her soft, warm skin is begging me to pull the car over and really appreciate it. But I don’t want to ruin the night, and it would end in me going back home without going to dinner, and I’m fucking starving.
“Your day go okay?” I turn the music down.
“It was normal. What about yours?”
“Boring. I worked all day, but still boring.” I glance at her, but I’m going too fast to get a good look.
“What do you do when you’re working?” Cora fiddles with the strap of her purse, her pale pink painted nails look dainty, the complete opposite of her.
“I write. Work on some compositions and then piece them together. If I have to meet with my team in the studio, then it is mostly the same thing, too.”
“
It sounds… boring.”
I laugh but appreciate her honesty. “Sometimes, but I love music. Sometimes it’s more exciting if I have events planned with endorsements. But otherwise, that’s just how it is.”
I see her nod in the corner of my eye and chuckle before I pull into the parking lot and the valet lane.
“What’s this?” Cora looks out the window.
I walk around the other side to open the door for her, take her hand as she gets out, and hold it in mine as we walk.
“A jazz bar. You mentioned it last night.”
She stops at the entrance and looks up at me. “You remember that?”
I grin. “I have an amazing memory, doll. I thought I’d take you somewhere you like.”
Her eyes soften, and she grins so her eyes twinkle in the dim lighting. Our small, round table is waiting, and I pull her chair out for her before sitting across from her. It’s close enough that my knees can touch hers, and she even leans closer to me to do so. Once our drinks are ordered, I relax and look at her.
“So, how am I doing for our second date?” I lick my lips watching her eyes trail down to them before she meets my gaze.
“Good so far…” She traces around the wine glass before she sips. “You like to show off.”
“I don’t.” I laugh.
“Okay, not a lot. Sometimes.”
I shake my head. “Not true. Not true at all.”
She giggles, and I get lost in the smooth sound. Just sitting here with Cora is making my body mesh to hers.
It is way too easy to be completely relaxed around her. To be myself—the one I used to know.
“Tonight, I’m going to get to know all about you.”
“You know me very well.” Cora leans on the table like it doesn’t make her breasts almost spill out of her dress and distract me permanently.
“I do in some ways.”
“Some?”
“Well, not all.” I lower my gaze and watch her cheeks heat. Her eyes dance with an easy mischievousness that I’m dying to know how far it can go. Before my cock gets wind of the situation, I clear my throat and down half my glass of wine. I don’t know what kind it is, but it relaxes me enough. Though I’m thinking I don’t want more than two glasses tonight.
“So, what’s good here?”
“I always get the chicken piccata.”
I feel her cross her legs under the table. I reach my hand under and graze the flesh of her calf up to her knee and as far as I can reach on her thigh. I hear her breath catch only barely because the live music starts with a slow jazz beat.
“It’s good?” I lower my voice keeping my eyes trained on the menu, and only going off her breathing and her shifting in the chair.
“Yeah, really good.”
I scoot up to let my hand trail higher to a place on her thigh close enough to feel the heat of her. I stop there and run small circles on her skin.
“I might try it.”
“You can try whatever you want.”
“I know that.”
“Could have fooled me.”
My eyes then shoot to her, a sexy, sly grin playing across her lips. The sight of her egging me on and being my ultimate tease is enough to have me considering skipping this entire dinner. I smile back at her, and she blinks away the heated haze we dug ourselves into just in time for our orders.
We sit and listen to the jazz, a half band of saxophone and trumpets with a light piano medley. I never liked jazz music as a discipline, but I appreciate all kinds of music. I feel the soul in the beat and the deep meaning of the song hidden in the sad melody. I just know it’s about love—lost or found—it’s about love.
After we finish, and I stick to my two glasses of wine, I have a real itch to be close to her. Something I can’t ignore anymore.
“Let’s dance.” I take her hand and smile.
“I don’t dance.”
I raise my brow.
“Don’t give me that look. I’m not the typical Puerto Rican mamacita, Brant.”
I laugh at her cute accent coming through, though I can’t decide if it sounds better when she is in the throes of passion or correcting me.
“I gave you no look.” I stand and button my suit jacket before I take her hand, and she stands.
“You can stand on my feet.”
“In these heels.” She looks down between us, and I smile. They are some serious heels.
“Yes, doll. Let’s go.”
She pouts, and I laugh more before taking her to the open space by the stage. A few couples are dancing too. I don’t know if I can say we’re a couple, but I’m not seeing anyone else. I have no desire to. I don’t know about her, though.
I want to take her hands and dance the old-fashioned way, but I want to feel her closer, so I have my hands on her waist as she wraps hers around my neck. Our bodies flush together more and more as we sway. My head droops down even more, the scent on the top of her head seeping into my nose—fresh lilac, soft tones of perfume, and the coconut of her shampoo. It’s no surprise my cock starts to harden, but I keep that part of me away from her even as I hold the flesh of her waist close to my chest and feel the mounds of her breasts against me. I want to growl and carry her off like a wild caveman. And I don’t think she would mind.
“Can I ask you something?” Cora lifts her head from my chest and peers up at me through her long, thick lashes.
“Of course.” I smirk.
“Have you told anyone else? About your… past drug addiction?”
My smile dies away faster than I can make it come back. She blinks a few times and looks away shaking her head as if she’ll change her mind.
“I haven’t. No one but Julia, my executive assistant, knows.”
“Do you want to tell anyone else?”
I sigh away tension in my shoulders. “Yeah. Eventually. Probably my family.” I almost crack at the idea. We have all been through so much in the past year—losing Dad, Alec disappearing and finding out we don’t have the same dad, then all the hurt from Isaac getting raw again. We are only just starting to get back to normal.
“Are you close with your family?”
I laugh. She smiles at me in question.
“Sorry, it’s just… I’ve never actually told anyone about my family.”
“Why?”
I sway her to the beat as the rhythm changes, but we both catch on quickly. I think she lied about not being a good dancer.
“Because. Everyone who meets me meets Brant. Not Brant Wilde. I keep my family private so the tabloids don’t hound them.”
“Oh… have they?”
“Nope, I’ve done a pretty good job at it. Fletcher, my brother, has the same problem since he plays football. But it’s nothing more than a reach for comment or something.”
“You have a brother?”
I grin. “I have nine. I’m the oldest.”
Her eyes widen a bit. “Wow, that’s a lot.”
“It is. It just got harder and harder for a while, then it was okay when we were all teens. But I have sixteen years on the youngest brother, so it took a long time.”
“Did you get blamed for a lot of stuff?”
I laugh. “Oh yeah.” I pull her closer as the song dies down. “But we were always close. Even now.” I swallow back thoughts of Isaac.
“That’s nice. What are they like?”
“That would take a year to explain.” I laugh off my joke, and she joins me. “Well, if you want the whole spiel, I’ll give it to you. But you have to give me something first.”
Her brows join as she purses her lips at me. “What?”
I smirk. “A kiss.”
She laughs at me, and I shrug unapologetically. Then she leans up and gives me the softest kiss known to man, but public be damned, I hold her close and coax her lips apart to suck softly, tugging her lips to mine. We break away too soon, but I’m glad to look down into her eyes again. Once I do, I tell her pretty much everything.
About Jeffrey, who came
right after me. He is a hotshot orthopedic surgeon now who actually just started his own practice. Then Holden who is more responsible than me and directly took over the family business when Dad died.
“How long ago? Your dad, I mean.”
She waits until I tell her about all my brothers. Dad weighs heavy on me, and he always will. We had a good relationship, and I’m luckier than most other people to have had him in my life. Our large family never compromised any time together, any good times. Things changed when Isaac left. Out of the blue, no trace. No matter who we hired or what we did, we couldn’t find him. The only reason we know he isn’t dead is because he signed his part of the will, sent it over with no return address too. Dad never felt good about that, none of us did. But we all hoped something would come out of his death besides Isaac still being gone.
“Last year, August.” It hasn’t even been a year, only seven months. It isn’t raw anymore, just kind of there.
“I’m so sorry.” Her fingers trace the edge of my hairline slipping under the nape of my neck. Her touch is immediately calming, soothing every piece of tension in me.
“Yeah. Me, too.” I kiss her cheek, close to her lashes I feel against my lips. “But tonight isn’t a sad night. Don’t worry about me.”
She smiles, and for a moment, it’s just us existing.
“What about your family?” I ask her.
Her expression clouds her eyes for a second before she blinks it off.
“Not much to say. My parents are out of the picture.”
I can easily tell she is hiding something, but I don’t pry her. This isn’t all give and take.
“Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine.” She swallows and averts my gaze by resting back on my chest.
We don’t say anything else through a few more songs. I just revel in holding her here against me and try not to think too much about her being so dodgy about herself.
“Cora,” I cup her cheek and bring her face to mine. “When will you tell me about yourself? More than… what I already know.”
“Someday.” She bites her lip.
“Someday?”
“Yes. I’m a private person about some things.”
Wilde About Brant - The Brothers Wilde Series Book Two Page 10
