Authors: Lacey Weatherford
Cami-
My eyes gravitated to the middle of the soaring foyer where a giant wrought iron chandelier, layered with antique glass and small crystal prisms, hung. The curve of an equally impressive staircase, which boasted a beautifully sculpted wrought iron banister, accentuated the placement of the fixture. Large paintings, depicting the Spanish countryside, graced the golden-washed walls, complimenting the orange-red color of the Saltillo tile on the floor. It was easily the fanciest house I’d ever been in.
“Nice place,” I muttered under my breath, feeling my distress
intensify a notch.
Hunter squeezed my hand reassuringly. “Don’t be intimidated. You’ll get used to it.”
I didn’t have time to reply. A tall man with black hair, slightly graying at the temples, entered the room. He was dressed in a linen shirt unbuttoned at the neck, with dark pants and shoes. I immediately assumed this must be Hunter’s dad from the warm smile that crossed his face when he saw us.
“Hello, Dylan,” he said in a rich
, low voice, and I thought I detected a slight accent. “I’m sorry I didn’t hear you arrive, or I would have greeted you at the door.” He hugged Hunter affectionately before turning to me. “And you must be Cami. It’s such a pleasure to meet you. Dylan has spoken nonstop about you.”
I mustered a somewhat nervous smile. “It’s nice to meet you too, Mr. Wild
. . . err, um, Wilcock,” I stammered out, feeling like a fool for almost calling him the wrong name.
Both he and Hunter laughed
, and I felt my skin flush.
“This isn’t my dad, Cami,” Hunter said. “This is José. He’s
. . . well, he’s like the butler, for lack of a better word.”
“I prefer house manager,” José said with a nod, extending his hand.
I shook it. “Nice to meet you, José.” I was sure my face was a lovely shade of red.
“He’s trying to take your bag for you,” Hunter whispered in my ear.
“Oh, sorry,” I said, feeling my skin heat even more as I slipped my purse off my shoulder and handed it to him.
“Your parents are on the back patio with Chris and Sheridan. They opted for a more relaxed environment and decided to do a barbeque for dinner tonight. You know how much your dad loves grilling.”
“I do,” Hunter said with a grin. “And he’s good at it. This will be fun.”
He gave me a quick squeeze as if he were trying to reassure me. I relaxed almost immediately. A barbeque? And Chris was here. I knew he was on my side. This shouldn’t be too bad.
Hunter led me down the long hallway, which was as equally ornate as the foyer, with doorways and arched openings that branched off into other areas of the house, allowing me a peek at the richly decorated rooms. This family was loaded.
We reached a wall of wood and glass
-paneled French doors. One set was open to the outside and Hunter led me through to one of the most lavish patios I’d ever seen, set next to a large, sparkling pool.
Wood beams crisscrossed over our heads, draped in fragrant honeysuckle vines
, which artfully hid the misting system cooling the hot desert air. Plush, brightly-colored cushions decorated the wrought iron furniture arranged in a cozy seating area next to a large, wooden dining table and chairs.
At one end of the space
, an unlit stone fireplace stood adjacent to a large built-in barbeque grill. A brown haired man in a white t-shirt and khaki colored pants stood with his back to us, a large metal spatula in his hand. Delicious aromas filled the air, and I felt my stomach rumble slightly. A large granite counter ran beside the grill, and behind it was what appeared to be a full bar. Chris and a woman with long brown hair sat on barstools sipping what looked like martinis. A beautiful woman stood behind the counter shaking drinks and talking to them. Her black hair, cut in a trendy A-line bob, shook in unison with the motion of her hands. I knew instantly this was Hunter’s mother. She was definitely the one he got his dark looks from. She spied us then.
“Dylan!” she called out, a wide smile gracing her lovely features, her dark eyes flashing in delight. Everyone turned to look. She set the shaker down and hurried over to us, giving Hunter a hug.
“Hi, Mom,” he replied, releasing my hand to return her embrace tightly. She was slightly taller than I was, and her figure was both shapely and curvy, shown off nicely in the sporty orange-striped tank top, white shorts, and matching sandals. Somehow, she still managed to make the casual outfit seem fancy. I couldn’t help but notice the large diamond wedding ring that graced her finger. It caught the light every time she moved her hand to pat his back.
She let go of Hunter and turned to me, clasping me warmly. “And you must be Cami. I’m Consuela, but everyone calls me Connie. We are so happy to finally have you here. Dylan has spoken so fondly of you.”
“What she actually means is he never shuts up about you,” Chris interjected with a laugh as he joined us.
I smiled at Connie when she pulled away. “It’s nice to meet you, Connie. Hun
. . . um, Dylan, speaks very loving of all of you too.” I blushed over my blunder of Hunter’s name again. “I’m sorry. I still have a hard time calling him Dylan. Old habits die hard.”
“No worries,” a new voice interjected, and I glanced behind Connie to see Hunter’s dad coming to join us. “We call Dylan lots of names around here. Troublemaker, Stinker, Pain-in-the-butt are some that come to mind. Wouldn’t you agree, Dylan?” he asked with a grin.
“Cami, this is my dad. Watch out for him—he’s quite the jokester. You can never believe anything that comes out of his mouth.”
“Weston Wilcock at your service, my dear,” Hunter’s dad said, stepping forward to shake my hand too. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I see Dylan wasn’t exaggerating about your looks.”
“Well, you
can
believe that,” Hunter added with a wink.
I blushed again. “It’s nice to be here. Thank you for having me.” Hunter definitely got his teasing personality from his dad.
“You might need to lay off the charm a bit, Dad, or Cami will be blushing all night long,” Hunter said, laughing.
“I’m
simply reaffirming what you’ve been saying all along.” Weston smiled. “Please excuse me, Cami. I’m going to burn the food if I don’t get back to my grill.”
“Come on,” Hunter said, dragging me past his mom and Chris. “You’ve got to meet Sheridan.”
His sister had turned on the barstool and was facing us, showing what I had missed before—her slightly rounded belly. She was pregnant. My eyes automatically flashed to the martini glass beside her on the counter, and she let out a little giggle.
“I see you’ve quickly assessed my condition. Don’t worry. Only virgin drinks for me. It’s great to finally meet you, Cami.” She brushed her long brown hair over her shoulder and extended a slender hand toward me. “Chris and Dylan have both told me so much about you.”
“Well, I hope it was all good.” I wondered what they could’ve possibly been saying as I flashed her a smile and shook her hand. For some reason, I felt an instant connection with her, but I wasn’t sure why, other than knowing how much Hunter loved her. She resembled Weston more than Connie—a softer, more feminine, version of her father.
“Only the best. Dylan’s quite smitten with you, which I’m sure you’re aware of. I’ve never seen him this happy before.”
I locked eyes with Hunter, and he wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him. “Is that true?”
“Yep.”
“Well, I’m glad. You make me feel pretty great too.”
“I bet he does,” Chris joked from behind me
, and Hunter turned to punch him in the shoulder.
“You’re one to talk. We can hardly stand to be in the same room with you and Sheridan. You can’t keep your hands off her.” He gestured toward Sheridan. “
Which is plainly evident,”
Chris laughed, running his hand through his short blond hair. “Can you blame me?
Look at her. She’s hot!” He slid back into his seat beside Sheridan and leaned over to kiss her cheek. I was happy to see I wasn’t the only one here subjected to blushing skin. It was clear these two were crazy about each other.
It was interesting to see Chris in this kind of environment. I hadn’t had the opportunity to interact with him much when Hunter was undercover, and lately all contact with him had been related to the case they’d been involved in. He held a place of tenderness in my heart because he’d been the one to save Hunter’s life when Clay had attacked him. I realized I
identified him as an all-business kind of guy, but that wasn’t the case when he was with his wife. He was a total romantic.
“Is there something I can do to help?” I asked Connie when she stepped back behind the bar. I looked around to see if there was more food that needed prepar
ing.
“No, just take a seat and enjoy yourself. The
kitchen staff is taking care of the rest.”
Staff?
How many people work here?
I wondered as I slid onto a barstool next to Chris. I couldn’t quite wrap my head around having hired help around all the time, but I guess the house was big enough it only made sense.
Hunter scooted his barstool closer to me and th
en sat down.
“What would you like to drink, Cami?” Connie asked, returning to her role of bartender.
“Do you have any soft drinks, or juice?”
“We have both. Anything in particular you’d like?”
“An apple juice if you’ve got it.”
“Perfect. We
’re having apple martinis, so you can have your apples too.” She smiled and reached into a mini refrigerator under the liquor shelf behind her.
“I’ll take an apple juice too, Mom. I’m driving tonight
, and I need a clear head,” Hunter said. He slipped his hand over and patted my leg affectionately. The sweet gesture made warmth spread through me. I was excited we were getting to spend the whole evening together. I placed my hand top of his, and he turned to link his fingers with mine.
“See, nothing to worry about,” he whispered softly against my hair.
“I like them all,” I replied in the same fashion, and he flashed a smile before giving me a tender kiss on the cheek.
His mom slid two apple juices in fancy martini glasses in front of us, interrupting our private moment. “Dylan tells me you’re a music major. We’d love to come hear you perform sometime.”
“That would be great. I’ve started classes, and we’ll have our first concert next month. I’ll be sure to invite you.”
“
Wait until you hear her, Mom,” Hunter interjected. “She’ll blow you away. I’ve never heard anyone better.”
“Why don’t you sing something for us now?” Weston asked from the grill
, and I choked on my apple juice.
Hunter patted me on the back. “Let’s not kill her all at once, okay, Dad? Give her a minute to get used to all of us. I’d like to keep her around
a while longer.”
“I bet you do,” Chris said with a knowing wink
, and I coughed again.
Hunter shot him an amused glare. “Cami, would you like to walk
by the pool with me?”
“Sure,” I replied, grateful he was attempting to rescue me. We took our drinks and walked hand in hand toward the water. The pool was as impressive as the rest of
what I’d seen. A hot tub was at the far end of one side, and large boulders were around the backside with a slide fashioned to match the rocks. Water sluiced down the slide and various places over the stones, creating mini waterfalls, which fell into the sparkling Pebble Tec pool. Large and small palm trees dotted the surrounding area, as well as a few padded lounge chairs for sunbathing, which looked more like something one would find at a five-star resort rather than a private residence.
“Your home is very beautiful,” I said when we stopped at the edge of the pool. “I had no idea your family was so wealthy.”
Hunter took a sip of his drink before he shrugged. “It’s all I know. I always thought this was a normal life for most people.”
I snorted. “Hardly. I can’t even fathom what it would be like to
grow up with this kind of money.”
“I’m glad you didn’t.”
That comment surprised me. “Why?” I stared at him, anxious to hear his answer.
“Because you’re perfect the way you are right now
—wholly unspoiled, sweet, real. I like all those things about you.” He pushed a strand of hair, blowing in the warm breeze, away from my face.
“You think having money would change those things about me?”
“Not now, because you’re already you. But it could’ve if you had it your whole life.”
“You seem to have turned out okay,” I reminded him.
“Only because I met Chris. I was much crazier before then.” He grinned. “My dad wasn’t completely kidding when he said I had lot of names. He called me his wild child. That’s how I came up with Wilder as my alias. Chris helped me change that lifestyle.”
I gave a slight chuckle. “You must’ve been thrilled to find out your sister was getting married to a cop.”