Dominic shot right back with a rebuttal. “Excuse me?” he snapped, stepping towards me. “You don’t know a thing about me, so why don’t you back off with the assumptions, you pompous ass?”
I do not like you one bit, I thought, my brow furrowing.
“Dom—” Carson began, but I cut him off. Not even my mysterious draw to him could deviate my intense need to defend my own honor. Dominic was getting under my skin, and I needed to put him in his place before this spiraled any further out of control.
“You think I’m pompous?” I asked coldly, stepping right up into Dominic’s space. “You agree with your dear stepfather, that I should mind my manners?”
Dominic looked utterly ridiculous posturing for a fight. But there he was, short-sleeved floral button-down and all, trying to get up in my face to intimidate me.
“Uh, Dom?” Carson tried again, but we both ignored him.
“I think,” Dominic snarled, “that you aren’t even supposed to be here. Alistair’s right, you’re throwing a tantrum. How old are you even? Forty? Fifty? Old enough to know better, that’s for damn sure.”
Alistair cleared his throat, and everyone glanced over at him. He was watching the proceedings with mild interest, and I felt a sudden pulse of rage. After all, this had always been his parenting style: hands-off.
Before I could come with another cutting statement, Carson spoke up. “Listen, I know emotions are running high. Maybe we could, uh, put this conversation on ice? At least until everyone’s settled in?” Dominic deflated slightly, though he threw me a waspish glare, which I returned. “Maybe we can all unpack and then, uh…Alistair, would it work to maybe wait until tomorrow before we all get together for a meal?”
I expected Alistair to hand Carson a copy of the schedule, but to my surprise he just nodded, still looking unnervingly composed. “That’s a great idea, Carson.”
“Cool,” Carson said, grabbing Dominic by the arm and yanking him away from me. “Which way are our rooms?”
“Up the stairs and to the right,” Alistair said. “You’re right across the hall from one another.”
“Awesome,” Carson said with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. “Beauregard, Ainsley, nice to meet you both. We’ll see you, uh, soon.” With that he was marching Dominic up the stairs, away from his seething stepfamily.
Seeing Dominic pulled away from the fight like a child pleased me, but I hated to see Carson go. His voice—deep and lyrical—was like a balm for my ragged heart. I wanted to hear more of his diplomacy, not to mention his thoughts on any number of subjects. Entrenched in those deplorable circumstances, I should not have been enamored with the tone of a stranger’s voice, particularly a stranger who was allied with my volatile new stepbrother. But I was helpless. Something about him intrigued me in a way I had never been intrigued before.
I didn’t bother to mention it to Beau as he herded me toward our own rooms on the other side of the house. Instead, I followed him silently. The minute I had thrown my bag on the floor of my room, I was back out into the hall, excusing myself to go for a walk around the farm. I needed some time to sort myself out.
Flashback
Do no harm.
That’s the pledge doctors take when they get their white coats.
Of course, what they’re really pledging is to do no harm unless it will lead to a greater good.
Chest tubes?
Those hurt like a bitch. But they keep you from dying, so in the end they cause more good than harm.
Cutting open skin and muscle to reach an internal injury?
It leaves the body scarred, with months of healing to do, but it keeps you alive.
Prescribing pills with nasty side effects and a high probability of dependence?
At least it keeps the acute pain at bay.
My doctors failed to do no harm. But they did less harm. I guess I was grateful after a while…in the moment, though, I hated them.
5
Carson
Alright.
The last thing I expected when Dom and I arrived at Abshire Manor was to find myself staring at the most beautiful man I had ever seen.
We could hear arguing as we mounted the steps of the front porch—harsh voices clear as day.
Which was weird, because we were only expecting Alistair and Sydney to be there. And Sydney is not the kind of person that people shout at.
But I had just spat out some stupid joke, and we were both still kind of laughing at it even as we registered the ruckus inside. So, we tumbled right through the door, our faces alight with the joke, and found ourselves staring at three very angry men.
I recognized Alistair, of course, his posture ramrod-straight and his arms crossed. But the other two—I had never seen them before in my life.
The taller of them was wearing khakis, imported cologne, a Rolex, and enough hair product to fuel a beauty pageant. Beauregard, apparently.
But I barely noticed all that, because my eyes snapped right to his brother.
Ainsley was beautiful, with high cheekbones, dark hair just starting to go grey at the temples, long eyelashes, and a slender build. Dressed in fitted jeans that hugged his body positively lovingly, and a tailored button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, he was somehow casual and striking at the same time.
Tall and lithe, his body seemed like it was spring-loaded, energy ready to propel him off the face of the earth if need be. There was strength in his anger, I could see it. He was like a jungle cat, all tightly-wound muscle and discipline.
And his voice, oh god, his voice, it was melodious and passionate, even as he spat furious words at Alistair.
I probably should’ve been annoyed that he was being such a dick.
But here’s the thing.
There was something in his eyes that spoke of deep sadness.
I had seen that look in my own gaze for years—every time I looked in the mirror.
He was lonely, and hurting, and that made me want to befriend him. Pull him in for a hug. Maybe even open up to him about my own past.
Having spent a lot of time yelling and throwing things in the aftermath of my own devastating circumstances, I knew that people didn’t usually act like dicks without a reason.
Maybe it’s a good one, maybe it’s not. But I was willing to give Ainsley the benefit of the doubt.
Dom, on the other hand, clearly wanted to throw down. It was bizarre seeing him lose his cool like that, given how level-headed he generally was. So, my first order of business was to drag him away from his new stepbrothers and into the relative quiet of the second floor.
No sooner had I deposited him in his room—still fuming—then I glanced out the window and saw Ainsley stalking away from the house. He was alone, making his way toward the barn with long strides. Something in my chest tightened at the sight.
“Hey Dom?”
Dom’s eyes snapped to mine.
“Yeah?”
“I think I need to stretch my legs before settling in for the night. Will you be okay if I go for a walk?”
He blinked at me.
“I’m a grown man, Carson, I’m sure I’ll be able to occupy myself for a few minutes.”
“Right,” I said, grinning. “Just don’t get into a brawl with anyone while I’m gone.”
“Oh, shut up,” he quipped, a smile breaking through his cloudy expression. “Don’t get lost in the woods or whatever.”
“I’ll do my best,” I assured him, heading across the hall to toss my suitcase onto my bed, and then began making my way outside.
The barn was a hulking beauty, painted a deep red. It was almost too pretty. Something that picturesque couldn’t possibly be real, could it?
Ainsley had left the door cracked open, and I glanced through the narrow space between door and wall. He was sitting on a bale of hay, head in his hands, and he looked impossibly lonely like that. Tenderness welled up within me. I wanted to draw him out of his misery, make him smile, tell him that everything would be okay.<
br />
Which was nuts, because I had no idea if everything was going to be okay for him.
All I knew for sure was that he was super rich, and estranged from his dad.
Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open. It was one of those magnificent sliding barn doors on giant rollers, and it creaked loudly. Ainsley looked up at once, his posture going stiff and defensive.
“Hi,” I said, feel suddenly awkward.
I didn’t take a step just yet. He deserved the chance to retreat if he wanted, or to claim the barn as his territory.
The last thing I wanted was to make him feel worse. I wasn’t exactly a threatening guy, but I was kind of intruding on him.
“What are you doing out here?” he asked after a pause, his eyes flicking up and down my body.
And good god, he was breathtaking.
My body seemed to buzz with electricity under his gaze.
“I came to—” to what? I wondered, to check on you? To see if you’re alright? “—to ask if you needed anything.”
Ainsley’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.
“And why, pray tell, would I need something from you?” he asked, one elegant eyebrow quirking upward.
Careful, Carson, I told myself.
“It seemed like you were upset in there,” I said, treading lightly.
“You caught that, did you?” he asked wryly.
I swallowed thickly, still standing in the doorway.
“I’m not going to apologize for Dom,” I told him, enunciating each word carefully, “because he’s an adult and it’s not my place to do that. But I want you to know that I don’t have any beef with you or your brother.”
Ainsley pursed his lips, clearly trying to parse out whether or not I was being honest.
“Why are you telling me this?”
So far so good, I thought, taking a tiny step across the threshold. Ainsley stayed right where he was, his expression unchanged.
“It can’t be easy, coming out here to spend time with family you don’t know well,” I pointed out. “I don’t know much about you, but Dom mentioned that you’re not in touch with Alistair. We were surprised to see you here.”
Ainsley snorted derisively. “Alistair is not my family. And Dominic certainly isn’t.”
“Pro tip,” I said, taking another step forward. I was solidly in the barn. “Call him Dom if you want him to like you. Sydney’s the only one who gets away with calling him by his full name.”
“Alistair calls him Dominic,” Ainsley shot back, though he didn’t sound mad. More like he was testing the waters.
“Well,” I said with a smile, “Dom doesn’t exactly love Alistair. So, the two of you have that in common.”
Another step.
Alistair barked out a laugh, the sound dizzyingly sweet. I wanted to bask in that laughter.
“I should not find joy in Alistair’s inability to connect with his new stepson,” he said, the tension in his shoulders melting away. “But I must say, that does cheer me up a bit.”
I took a few more strides, ending up just a couple of feet from him. Gesturing at his hay bale, I asked, “Can I sit?”
He moved over to make room for me, and I sank down onto the bale gratefully. My ankle was throbbing after spending the whole day driving.
“Not to be rude,” Ainsley began, “but why are you at Abshire Manor this week? Dominic isn’t your boyfriend, is he?”
My eyes widened in horror.
“Oh god no. Gross. Dom’s basically my brother, dude. He’s the last person on earth I would ever date.”
“So,” Ainsley pressed, “why are you here with him?”
I bit my lip.
People generally got weird when I told them about my past. They were either filled with pity, or got morbidly curious about the gory details. I generally just avoided the topic as neatly as possible, but there wasn’t really a way to answer his question without giving him at least some idea of what happened.
Dammit.
“Sydney kind of took me in,” I said, looking down at my feet. “When I was in college. My family’s not really around anymore, so she and Dom…I spend holidays and stuff with them. They’re my chosen family, you know?”
I didn’t want to look at his face.
Right up until I saw his reaction, I could imagine that it was the one I wanted. Eyes glued to the floor, I listened to the silence roar in my ears. Any second now he would ruin everything.
But then…
“There’s a lot of power in choosing your family,” Ainsley said gently.
My eyes shot up to meet his, and I found myself looking into a face full of compassion but void of pity.
“There is,” I agreed hoarsely.
“I cannot presume to know your circumstances,” he added, “but I can empathize with losing people you hoped to have around.”
Empathy.
That was what I craved—not condescension, not sorry for your loss, but empathy. Recognition that we all suffer in our own ways, and can feel for one another without judgment.
“Thank you,” I stuttered out, suddenly worried that I wouldn’t be able to articulate what I was thinking. “For, uh, for your reaction.”
Ainsley nodded.
“So, Sydney and Dominic wanted you to come spend the week here with them?”
“Yeah,” I said, warmth flooding me. “And Alistair. He loves Sydney, so as far as I’m concerned, it doesn’t really matter if I like the guy personally or not. He treats her well, and since she’s my family, he gets to be too. But mostly I came to support Dom, because I knew this would be hard for him.”
Ainsley made a noncommittal noise.
“Why is Dominic so angry with me?” he asked.
I shrugged.
“Probably a couple of things. This is a huge adjustment for him—he’s been the only child of a single woman for the better part of three decades. And Alistair comes from a completely different world…I mean, they both spent most of their lives in Manhattan, but there’s a big difference between being rich in New York and being broke in New York.”
“I didn’t realize he grew up in poverty,” Ainsley said, looking surprised.
“Eh, poverty is a bit strong,” I elaborated, “but Sydney worked multiple jobs to support him. They inherited a beautiful house, so they were always the poorest people in their neighborhood. It doesn’t surprise me that he has to adjust to suddenly having a billionaire in the family. Or three.”
Ainsley shrugged. “So, the issue comes down to money.”
“No,” I said, “there’s more to the story. See, Sydney had a heart attack last summer, and it looked like she was going to die. I’ve never seen Dom in worse shape, it was awful. She’s okay now, but he’s convinced she’s going to have another heart attack if she gets too stressed out, and you…well, your relationship with Alistair could bring a lot of stress into all of our lives.”
“Now that makes more sense,” Ainsley said, shifting on the hay bale.
Our knees brushed, and a jolt of arousal shot through me.
Fuck, I wanted him.
This stranger with daddy issues, who was proving to be shockingly vulnerable and open.
He made me crave something I couldn’t name. I suspected that his body draped over mine might start to quench the craving, though.
“So…you’re going to give him a chance?” I asked, hoping I didn’t sound as goddamn thirsty as I felt.
“Well, let’s not make promises we cannot keep,” Ainsley said, smiling at me playfully. “I will make an effort. But if he cannot learn to speak to me respectfully—”
“Respect goes two ways,” I reminded him.
“Ideally,” he agreed. “Have you had dinner, Carson?”
Holy shit.
I blinked up at him, dazed.
“I, uh…no, I haven’t. I was going to check if they have Postmates around here, maybe order Thai food or something.”
“Would you like to join me at a restaurant instead?” he asked, his
brown eyes glinting.
My stomach swooped alarmingly, and pleasant little tingles crept down my arms.
Was he asking me to dinner? Like some kind of date or flirtation or…
Or was this just him being polite?
I didn’t even know if he was gay.
For all I knew, he could be straight, or married, or taking a vow of celibacy.
Don’t jump to conclusions, I told myself sternly.
But that didn’t quell the racing of my pulse.
“Sure,” I said, all casually. “Did you have somewhere in mind?”
“I can look something up on the way. Give me moment to call a car—”
“Oh, I have my car here,” I interrupted. “I can drive us into town.”
Ainsley’s smile was beautiful as it bloomed across his face. It made me want to find out everything about him, every secret and desire and dream.
It turns out that when he said restaurant, what he really meant was something off the Michelin Guide.
I didn’t even know that Ponderosa had anything that fancy, but as I pulled up outside the sleek, modern building in my 2010 Honda Civic, I felt distinctly uncultured.
“Uh…are you sure you want to eat here?” I asked, gesturing at my outfit.
I was wearing jeans and a flannel, not exactly dressy garb.
“Carson,” he said, and I was glad that I was sitting because hearing him say my name made me go weak in the knees.
“Yeah?”
He leaned in and clapped a hand on my shoulder.
“You look amazing. Let’s go in.”
And, yeah.
That made my breath catch in my chest.
I looked amazing? He looked amazing.
But I scampered out of the car, handing the valet my keys—holy shit, a valet?!—and following Ainsley toward the entrance.
Mangeons was the same on the inside as the outside—all polished metal and contemporary touches. The servers were dressed in black from head to toe, though many of them sported hipstery hairstyles and tattoos.
I started to relax.
Under Wraps Page 4
