Wilde Forever (Wilde Women Book 1) (18 page)

It was coming up on six o’clock, the time when Brynn was usually leaving the shop. Stopping on the outskirts of town to gas up the truck, he pulled out his phone and scrawled through the contacts until he found her name. He liked having her there, even if it was only in a phone list. Made him feel connected to her in some weird way.

He sent her a quick text saying he was on his way and had picked up pizza for dinner. It bothered the shit out of him that she took such piss-poor care of herself. As if the unusual hours and long, grueling work day wasn’t enough, when he’d poked around her kitchen to see what constituted as food in her world, he’d been annoyed by what he found. If it was processed, full of sugar, crap, and preservatives it was on the menu. The thought made him shudder.

Between his medical training and a couple of years of eating flat-out shit while stationed in Iraq, Jax had developed a true appreciation for anything healthy and organic. It seemed funny to him that he was the nurturer type while she was the one focused on other things.

He waited impatiently in the cab of the truck until she finally texted him back to say she’d meet him at the house. Flipping on the radio, he picked an oldies satellite station and pulled onto the backroads for the twenty-minute trip. The aroma of the pizza on the seat next to him was almost his undoing. Lunch seemed like a million hours ago, and he was more than ready to inhale half a dozen slices by himself.

He finally arrived at the Wilde House and made his way up the long driveway that was completely separate from the business. Parking next to her vehicle he noted that she drove a hybrid car with an interesting crystal at the end of a beaded wire hanging from the rearview mirror. Brynn didn’t seem like the crystal type, and he smiled, thinking to himself that there was a lot about her he didn’t know. Nor she about him.

He rang the front doorbell, but she didn’t answer the door. Next he gave a couple of sharp raps on the wood door. Still nothing. Finally after a few minutes of standing there he tried the doorknob, found it unlocked, and pushed it open. He swore under his breath.
Fuck.
Not only didn’t she eat well, she had no sense of her own security if she just randomly left shit unlocked.

Calling out the moment his feet hit the foyer, he looked around anxiously, ripping his sunglasses off and tossing them on a hall table. All of his protective tendencies were on high-alert. His heart began thumping as old instincts took control of him.

“Brynn. You home?” he barked.

Relief washed over him when she appeared a moment later coming from the second floor.

“I smell pizza,” she drawled lazily as she came plodding down the steps in what could only be described as a head-fucking dress that made her look like a teenager. Taking in the wet curls around her shoulders and the fresh-faced look of a woman just out of the shower, Jax had to mentally count back from one hundred before he got all up in her grill about leaving the door unlocked while she was alone in the house. Knowing she was naked and in the shower only made it worse.

She looked at him quizzically, her face a mass of contradictions, when he didn’t say anything right away. Looking back over her shoulder as if she expected to see an axe murderer storming down the steps, she frowned. “What? What’s the matter?”

Jax wasn’t sure what to say or how to react. The emotions racing through him were helped along by the PTSD that plagued him. When you spend months on end in an environment where there was no front line, living moment to moment knowing there was a possibility that someone was going to take a shot at you or strap on a suicide vest, it made personal security a real issue. Finding Brynn alone and vulnerable made him anxious and got his adrenaline pumping.

“Please don’t leave the door unlocked again, okay?” he cautioned in as calm a voice as he could muster.

“I knew you were on your way,” Brynn mumbled, her face filled with questions. “Nobody ever comes up here,” she was quick to reassure him.

“Yeah, well I don’t care. You never know when some dickhead is going to go off on a rampage.”

She bit her lip and fiddled with the damp curls. He got the distinct impression she was trying to read his every thought. Instead of railing at him about how she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, which was what he expected, she gave him an almost imperceptible head nod and told him, “Okay.”

Her calm response and the way she accepted his decree were like opening a pressure valve on his adrenaline rush. Sometimes his reactions to certain situations, still to this day and probably for the rest of his life, made him a difficult son-of-a-bitch.

She didn’t smile at him, but she did look him straight in the eyes, which went a long way to easing his anxiety. After only two days he was drowning in possessive and defensive impulses where Brynn was concerned.

Walking past him, she headed toward the kitchen telling him as she passed, “Remind me after we eat to give you the set of keys I had made. One for the house and the other for the loft.”

She’d had keys made? An emotion he couldn’t describe cascaded from the top of his head to the soles of his feet.

In the kitchen he dropped the two large pizzas onto the counter and steadied himself. She practically shoved him aside to get at the boxes cooing, “Ooooh, what do we have? Smells yummy.”

He wasn’t sure if she was oblivious to the crisis that just passed or was trying to deflect his attention. Either way, he took a deep breath and pushed the prickling urges that messed with his head as far away as he could.

“I didn’t know what you liked so I got a little of everything. Plain cheese. Pepperoni. Some white concoction called a Greek with spinach, feta, and olives and my personal favorite—veggie.”

She was yanking open the door to the fridge when she asked, “Beer, wine, milk or water?”

Milk with pizza? Yeah. He didn’t think so but knowing it was on offer meant she’d gotten provisions at some point because there certainly hadn’t been any milk in the fridge before.

“If the beer is ice cold, I’m in. If not…you need a good spanking.”

Brynn snorted with amusement and stuck her tongue out at him. “Nice try. Of course it’s ice cold, silly. I’m not a heathen! Two beers coming up, sir. You grab some plates and I’ll meet you at the table.”

T
WO BEERS AND A CRAPLOAD of pizza later, they were engaged in a belching contest that had them both roaring with laughter. She might be the only female on the planet, that he was aware of anyway, who could throw down with a
Star Wars
reference, follow it up with a neat
Star Trek
segue, try to dominate him in the bedroom, play Grand Theft Auto like one of the guys, and rip out a burp like nobody’s business. Oh yeah, all that and she didn’t take anyone’s crap. Not even his.

“Let’s go sit in the yard,” she suggested. “It’s such a nice night. Perfect for firing up the pit.”

“You’ve got a fire pit?”
Fuck
, she really was awesome.

“Yeah.” She quirked her mouth like she was admitting to something wicked. “It was Charlie’s idea. She was in one of her nature-girl phases when she stayed here. She’s the only person I know who would spend days walking through the woods looking for the perfect rocks to build the pit. She’ll be thrilled to hear it gets used when she’s not around.”

It really was a beautiful early fall evening, and he enjoyed lounging about talking about everything and nothing. They were camped out in a pair of Adirondack chairs set side by side debating whether the
Hobbit
movies were better, worse, or on the same par with the
Lord of the Rings
trilogy. Who the hell was this girl and why did she excite, entertain, and scare the holy fuck out of him at the same time?

“Tell me about you sisters, Brynn. You’re the oldest?”

She took a good healthy swig of her beer and grinned at him. “Mmmm hmmm.”

“And?”

The sigh she let out wrapped around his heart. He knew that sound. It was how he felt about his brother and parents. The love of family was something he understood. Something he cherished and something he was glad they shared.

Turning toward him she leaned on an arm and tucked her legs under her ass staring off dreamily. “Well, clearly you’ve figured out that I’m the smart and clever one. Firstborns always are,” she bragged. “I got all the brains. Rhiann came next, and she got the heart. I swear sometimes that she cries watching Pampers commercials.”

“Where is she?” he asked, curious to hear more.

A big, proud smile lit up her face. “She lives in New York City. Works in the fashion industry doing shit I know nothing about. My fashion choices come from the ‘Old and Boring’ section at Target.”

He liked the way she pronounced the name of the store like it was a French high fashion house – ‘Tar-jhay.’

“I know nothing about Fashion Week but she certainly does,” she laughed. “I’ve got a hundred pictures she texted from the last one of her with every big name model walking the runway.”

He chuckled. “Females I hope.”

“Well, them too,” she teased right back. “Honestly, some of those guys are like made-to-order Adonis types.”

Shit
, Jax thought. He tried not to clench his jaw, but the idea of Brynn drooling over some professional six-pack runway walker made him crazy.

Luckily she quickly added, “Not my cup of tea at all. Some guy who spends more time in front of the mirror than I do creeps me out. Not that I spend much time thinking about stuff like that. Already told you, I’m not relationship material.”

Well. He’d just see about that, but for now he let the comment slide.

“She doesn’t realize it, but I am well-aware that she’s gotten real close to Amy. They’re the same age. Both bona fide head cases when it comes to believing in all that happily ever after crap.”

Interesting statement, for sure. “Does it bother you? That she’s close to your assistant, I mean?”

“
Pfft.
Oh God no. Lets me off the hook. I’m glad Rhiann has someone to share all that hearts and flowers nonsense with.”

She drifted off for a moment and Jax studied her face as a thoughtful look played across her features. Brynn had a complex inner life evident more by what she didn’t say than by what she did. He wanted in on those private thoughts. Wanted her to open up and share everything.

Taking another long pull from her beer, she licked her lips and shifted slightly in the chair. Something was clearly going on in that head of hers. It struck him that by everything she’d told him so far, she saw herself in something of a protective role where her siblings were concerned. Made him think about the very similar relationship he had his with his brother Caleb.

“Amy’s quite a piece of work,” Jax declared with a snicker. “She’s a glass half full person, isn’t she? I kind of like that about her.”

Brynn rested her head on the high back of the chair for a moment, stared at the stars overhead, and took a deep breath.

“Yeah, that’s Amy all right. She’s the least cynical person I’ve ever met.”

“Know a lot of cynics, do you?” he asked.

Her eyes swept quickly in his direction. Rolling a shoulder, she made a somewhat wistful face and sighed. “Just me, I suppose.”

What did you say to a comment like that? He supposed the asshole ex-husband served up a big helping of that cynicism on a silver platter ‘cause she didn’t strike him as someone who’d always been that way.

“They’re up to something. Rhiann and Amy. I can feel it, you know. Don’t have a clue what…..but
something
.”

Jax chuckled and fixed her with a wry smile. “Ever think about asking what’s up? I hear the direct approach gets good results.”

“That’s not how sisters work,” she giggled. “My spidey sense tells me though that whatever it is, it’ll have an element of ‘gotcha’ all over it.”

“Know all too well how that feels,” he agreed with wide eyes. “Sometimes I think my brother fucking lives just to find ways to mess with my head.”

Her amused snort split the nighttime air. “I hear that!” She threw up her hand for a high five that he enthusiastically smacked.

“What about Charlize? You said she stayed here last year. Where is she now?”

Brynn’s expression softened. “Charlie is in Tuscany. Learning all about Italian ceramics and pottery.”

“For real?”

“Yeah. For real. She’s an artist and a card-carrying hippie for want of a better word. The garage studio is littered with her work. Charlie is incredibly gifted and something of a free spirit,” she elaborated with a snicker. As an afterthought she added, “I wish she’d come home. I miss her terribly.”

“When was the last time you were all together?” he asked, because it had been almost eighteen months since Caleb had been home. Like Charlie, he too was off in Europe—only Italian pottery wasn’t what drew him there.

“Well, Charlie’s been gone for months, but we email all the time. Rhiann and I computer chat at least once a week and text of course. Matter of fact, if I can figure out how to cover my responsibilities in the bakery for a few days, I hope to shoot up to New York. Business meeting I have to be present for is also a great excuse to hang with my sis. We’ll see,” she shrugged.