Public

by Xavier Neal

  Wes removes my hand from his face and places a gentle kiss on the back of it. “I do trust you.”

  “It sure the fuck doesn’t feel like it.”

  Fucking swear, like everyone else knows more about this situation than me. And to make it worse, trying to get any information about it is like trying to break into a bank vault. Even my own mother has been like Fort Knox. Out of her and J.T. I swore she would’ve let something slip to quench my curiosity, but she gave me nothing.

  His panged voice pleads, “I’m sorry. I’ll tell you everything I know. Let you…rifle through anything we have before it goes back to Monica.”

  A soft breath is let loose.

  At least I won’t feel like the only member of the family who doesn’t know what the fuck is going on.

  “I won’t make the same mistakes my father made, Brynley. When the test proves she is a Wilcox, I will accept her as such. She will be given her rightful claim, and we will extend a welcome to her because it’s what she should’ve had all along. And while I didn’t want to face the betrayal I felt from learning about my father’s past, it is not mine to judge. I’ve been given the opportunity to make my own family and I will not, I repeat Brynley Winters, I will not throw that away.” All of a sudden his warm lips land on my swollen stomach. The contact steals a pleased sigh. In a quiet voice he states, “You and your mother, Little Thing, are my entire life.”

  A swoon is sweetly stripped from my lips to which Wes finally smirks.

  Our eyes connect again. “Shouldn’t we be going? Do you really wanna be late for this event?”

  I playfully shrug. “Being pregnant comes with this built in excuse for being tardy.”

  He slightly chuckles and shakes his head. “Abuse of power.”

  The sarcastic expression I toss him causes us both to laugh loudly.

  Wes wraps his arms around me and pulls my body down towards him. With our mouths just a breath apart he whispers, “I love you, Brynley.”

  There’s no opening to express my mutual shared feelings or the opposition. Our lips mesh tightly together, and any lingering doubts about our relationship are successfully dispelled.

  Is everything perfect? Of course not. It never has been. That’s half the fucking fun. Is everything settled? I’m not sure. Is everything forgiven? No, but at least we’re finally starting the process. At least we’re talking. After basically a month of unwanted separation it’s nice to be together again. We’ll eventually figure out how to build some bridges and stop the constant desire to hit him over the head with my high heels. For now? We have a work event to attend, and I’m grateful I don’t have to go alone.

  Wes casually points to the blonde woman across the room. “Is that Jenni?”

  “Yeah….Evie mentioned she’d be here to babysit me.”

  He furrows his eyebrows and gives me a displeased look. “Why would you need a babysitter?”

  “With all the rumors floating around about me having an affair to you not wanting this child because it’s not yours, Evie thought it would be a good idea to send Jenni to be a ‘look out’, so she could be warned about any possible actions I make being misconstrued as something else. Oh, and to take photos of me ‘advocating for better welfare of marine life’ to the rich and powerful.”

  The displeasure in his expression remains. “What kind of actions was Evie anticipating?”

  “I don’t fucking know. It’s not like I’m gonna grab some guy’s dick instead of his hand.”

  Wes wrinkles his forehead more and tightens the grip he has on my hand.

  Hasn’t slipped once. After allowing him to help me into this light pink baby doll dress that has a pleated skirt, he has yet to break our touch. Though his assistance in sliding it on wasn’t necessary, it felt good to physically be close. So good in fact, I let him lotion my legs. And my feet. And then strap on my heels before placing my engagement ring back on my finger. During the car ride he held me close as if terrified I’m still contemplating walking out on him. Even though I’m not going to, I have to admit keeping him a little worried makes me feel a teensy bit better.

  A waiter with a plate of bacon wrapped shrimp attempts to stroll by when I stop him to grab one.

  Wes politely passes on the appetizer. “My appetite is still unstable.”

  I nod my understanding, have another bite, and state, “Did you know The Mantis Shrimp is one of the most deadly creatures around?”

  “Is that what you’re eating?”

  “God, no. Do I look like I have a death wish?” Once I finish the last of the snack I inform, “Mantis Shrimp are like ocean terrorists. Their limbs can move so fast the water around them boils, and then it basically creates this shockwave that stuns like everything. Like a little underwater bomb. BOOM!”

  The concern on his face grows. “You don’t…you don’t have those at the institute, do you?”

  “Nope. They’ve been known to break glass as well as kill everything else they’re roommates with.”

  His jaw drops in shock just as Calen joins us.

  “Are you talking about the damn shrimp again?”

  “It’s so scary!”

  “Yeah, well, thankfully it typically stays hidden unless it’s time to eat or move on to a new dwelling.”

  “You already know about this little death monster?” Wes questions at the same time he tugs me a little closer to him.

  “She’s been rambling on about it for the past two days. Beats the shit out of listening to her go on and on about Star Trek.” My lips make an excited O in preparation to make a comparison of the shrimp to an alien species when Calen gives me a firm finger point. “I’ll walk the fuck away right now.”

  I mock him, and Wes chortles to himself.

  There’s a short moment of tension between the two of them that I quickly decide to sever. “Hey, I’m gonna be in late on Saturday. We’ve got a family thing.”

  Calen cuts Wes a short glance but nods his understanding my direction. “Shouldn’t be an issue since they moved the transfer to Sunday.”

  “What transfer?” My fiancé tries to interject.

  “Why’d they move it?”

  He shrugs. “Raquel didn’t say. She got the email right as I was leaving.”

  “What transfer?” He repeats with a bit more desperation in his tone.

  “We’re getting a new baby hammerhead to more or less replace Steven,” I explain. “It was the one we rescued the day I sprained my ankle.”

  “Replace Steven?” A new wave of shock rushes through his expression. “Where did he go? Why did he go? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Maybe she tried,” Calen mutters not so quietly.

  I give him a stern look before meeting eyes with Wes. The pain pumping in his is so palpable I instinctively free my hand to wrap it around his side to provide him with comfort we all know he doesn’t truly deserve about this situation. “I um….I wanted to tell you. I was going to tell you, but with everything that kept happening there didn’t seem like a good time. Or better yet time at all, really. He got transferred the same day as my doctor’s appointment. He’s now at K&T for captive breeding.”

  His hand lands on the nape of my neck and he pulls our foreheads together. “Baby, I’m so sorry….”

  The lump of sadness that always forms when I think about Steven for too long chokes my speech. “It’s fine, Wes. It’s….He’s….This is good for him.”

  He leaves us connected for just a moment longer before he pulls back. “How much more did I miss?”

  I give him another small shrug and smile through the pain. “Eh. Not much?”

  Unexpectedly, his body angles to face Calen and he states, “Thank you.”

  Calen’s look of confusion matches my own. “What?”

  Wes gives my side a small stroke yet repeats the words with the same amount of sweet inflection. “Thank you.”

  My friend’s mouth moves, yet there isn’t the slightest sound.

  “Thank you for being there f
or Brynley when I wasn’t.”

  Bafflement grows in both of us.

  “Thank you for being a damn good friend to her, Calen. We’re both lucky she has you.”

  Finally, Calen gives me crooked look and nonchalantly questions, “Is he still drunk?”

  “Are you?”

  The matched bewildered expression we’re sporting causes him to laugh. Actually. Laugh.

  Annoyed, I groan, “You are, aren’t you?”

  Seeing my lack of amusement, he quickly shakes his head, and insists, “No. No of course not. Stone cold sober. The security team has even been instructed to give me random breathalyzers if they’re the slightest bit suspicious.”

  “Can I request that too?”

  “Absolutely.” The lack of hesitation spreads my smile. “My sobriety is not to being taken lightly.”

  “Good,” Calen loudly states. Our eyes move his direction and he adds, “Because Brynley didn’t deserve the bullshit she went through and if you drag her through it again, you’ll see what a really good fucking best friend looks like.”

  Wes’ response is expected. His chest swells. His neck stiffens. His eyes lower to a glare yet he says, “Understood.”

  Okay….What the fuck is going on? I mean I don’t want them fucking fighting nor do I really want Wes being ridiculously jealous of another male being protective over me, but he didn’t argue whatsoever. Has he finally accepted that Calen is the best friend I have or is this more about him trying to dig his way out of the doghouse?

  “Dance with me?” Wes asks softly.

  Once more taken by surprise, I try to hide it better. “Have you secretly been taking dance lessons?”

  He gives me a stunned look.

  “You’ve got like one left foot and one foot so confused it shouldn’t be allowed within fifty feet of the dance floor.”

  Calen chuckles while Wes glares.

  “That’s really what people should be tweeting about. Billionaire, Weston Wilcox, dances like a stereotypical white guy.”

  The humor in his eyes invites my smirk to stay.

  “Teach him to do the Carlton. At least then he’s white with flare.”

  My snicker is short lived because of the ass grab he not so subtly delivers. “Come on future Mrs. Wilcox. Let me show you the man you’re gonna marry has skills in and out of the bedroom.”

  His action of dominance with his words echoing it slides my bottom lip between my teeth.

  Good to know my Wes is still in there even if he’s just splashed with a little bit of shame.

  We bid Calen a quick goodbye and start towards the ocean of dancing people.

  This charity function is an annual one hosted by the founders of K&T. It is an opportunity for donors from all around the world to come and support not only the K&T Institute, but several other foundations who exist to help protect and maintain marine life. The event is a little more casual than those Wes is forced to attend, but no less valuable to those it helps. Every year millions of dollars are raised and spread to underfunded aquatic departments all around the country. Usually it’s only upper management that comes to show face, but considering my fiancé is one of said donors and it was expected for me to show up. Calen was extended an invitation through me in hopes I would have someone to actually talk to about more than just who designed my dress. Which that person should get a medal because this thing is comfy, and I look sexy.

  Mere steps away from the dance floor we’re abruptly stopped by a tall, dark haired woman. “Weston! You’re here!”

  “Renee,” he warmly greets, exchanging the briefest of hugs, keeping one hand looped around me during the process.

  I smirk to myself over his commitment to staying attached.

  Seriously, not running off. Especially not pregnant in heels. Who the fuck do I look like? Beyoncé?

  “Renee Drake, this is my fiancée-”

  “Brynley,” the woman finishes with a happy sigh. “It is an honor to finally meet you. Raquel is always raving about what a team you and Calen are.”

  His grip tightens at the mention of Calen’s name, and I stifle my giggle.

  I see that whole humbled by his dedication to our friendship thing was short lived.

  “We are so fortunate to have you,” her continued gushing warms my cheeks.

  “Thank you.”

  “Should I be jealous?” The man beside her questions after a sip of champagne. “Should I be trying to steal her away for K&T?”

  Wes’ growl isn’t subtle, but the accented man doesn’t seem to mind. He simply extends his hand to shake. “Trenton Kenningston.”

  “Weston Wilcox.”

  “As in the Kenningston?!” My voice squeaks while they shake. “As in the K in K&T, Kenningston?”

  “Technically, I am both the K and the T. There is not an actual second founder. The T I use is for Turner. It was the last name of the woman I love, but lost due to my own mistakes. The woman who is the entire reason I started K&T.”

  A small swoon escapes from Renee and me in unison.

  Put aside the fact he’s tall and absolutely gorgeous for an older man, he unlike most men, admitted losing her was his fault. Not that women are never to blame, but it’s like a 90/10 kind of thing.

  “The institutes are almost a therapeutic way to deal with the agony of a life without her. She loved the ocean and every creature in it.” He has another sip to wash away the sad smile.

  Wes offers him an equally grim grin. “I know exactly what you mean.” He readjusts me in his arms with his attention still focused on Trenton. “So, you’re the founder-”

  “And head donor of both divisions. The other is in Doctenn, where I’m from.”

  Oh…so that’s the accent. Sounded a little British but I wasn’t sure.

  “How big of a donation is it going to take to give my fiancée open ended access to the institute here in our country?”

  The question drops my jaw.

  Trenton looks intrigued. “Are we talking a week day pass or-”

  “Any day, at any time. Doesn’t matter if she wants to visit at 3 A.M. or Christmas morning.”

  I whisper, “Wes-”

  “May I ask why the desire for that type of access?” Trenton questions.

  “Will this affect our funding?” Renee meekly interjects.

  Wes shakes his head to answer her before saying to him, “Your institute recently acquired a shark from ours for captive breeding. The shark-”

  “Steven,” I correct.

  Both men let the corners of their lips turn up. Wes promptly continues, “Steven as you can see meant a lot to my fiancée. He was…more like a friend than just another animal in her care. His departure hit her hard, and I would like to help alleviate as much of that pain as possible.”

  The combination of his words and the outrageous gesture mean more than my emotions can handle. Resisting the urge to cry becomes hard, and I hate myself for it.

  Fuck these hormones. Seriously.

  Trenton’s smile threatens to blind us. “Your fiancée can have full access any time day or night to visit Steven.”

  “In exchange for?”

  “A favor.”

  “What type?”

  “My nephew has his own foundation that helps foster homeless children. Unfortunately, due to his decision to marry someone of a different ethnicity, his funding is hitting a bit of a financial snag. He may need an additional backer with some weight to his name.”

  The smile on Wes’ face is genuine. “It’d be an honor to donate to a respectable cause. I lost my parents at a slightly older age, but I know others are not so fortunate.”

  “I’ll have Renee forward your contact information to my secretary.”

  “Please do.”

  “And I’ll have a memo sent with Brynley’s information and access allowance.”

  Joy jumps into my expression, and I have to stop myself from cursing.

  She’s head of the company I work for. Gotta have a little class or pro
fessionalism.

  “Oh! For a bonus, how about you throw in a bottle of your finest aged whiskey?” Trenton says with a playful glimmer in his eyes. “It would save me the trouble of searching for a bloody birthday present for my big brother.”

  Wes lightly laughs with a nod. “Consider it done.”