Wilde Magic (Wilde Women Book 3) (36 page)

Pushing open the door to the patio with her foot, she wiggled through the opening and swung her hip on the other side to shut it again and keep the cold out. The patio was a new addition to Wilde House. She knew this because Nana rattled on ad nauseum about the amazing, wonderful, ingenious updates Jax and his crew brought to the family homestead. And with every glowing comment of praise, Brynn simply smiled bigger and lit up even brighter. Seemed to her like Bryanna Charles was one hundred percent team Jax all the way.

“You’re so full of shit!”

Charlie smirked. Dad was at it again. The vehemence of his slam suggested she’d stumbled into a sports debate.

“The Steelers have more titles than the Eagles. End of discussion.”

Adam Merrill chuckled and the intense man-debate raged on. Charlie liked the guy on sight. He was a lot like her dad. Mild mannered on the outside—so typical of a professional educator—but wildly funny and inappropriate when called for. He was also hot—in that silver fox hot kind of way. Brynn was lucky, especially if Jax aged anything like his dad has.

Stowing the beer in a cooler quite cleverly emblazoned with a facsimile of the Baron’s Tea Room sign, she ran her fingers over the design and snickered. Vinyl. She loved it! Before high-tailing it through customs and spreading her dragonfly wings in Europe, she’d turned Brynn on to a couple of craft things. At the time, her older sister was suffering from a bad case of Type A personality and really needed a frickin’ chill pill before she exploded from stress. Suggesting a vinyl cutter was a stroke of genius. Her list-minded sister used it to label everything. Okay, so maybe being a tool in Brynn’s mighty organizational arsenal hadn’t been what Charlie had in mind when she suggested it, but she’d take it as a win anyway.

Jax came over and snagged one of the Mad Elf’s. “B-T-Dubs little sister,” he quipped after uncapping the brew and taking a healthy swig. “These babies have a higher buzz content than regular beer. So, if you drink one, just keep in mind the suggested—by your sister—ratio is one Mad Elf to two standard. Got it?”

She laughed and gave him a playful shove with her shoulder as he drew her into a side hug. “Not to worry big brother.” Oooh, she liked how that sounded! Holy shit. She had a brother and man was he ever b-i-g, big. “Not much of a beer lover. But if you wheel out the bar cart and make a pitcher of dirty martinis? I’m pulling up a stool.”

Jax looked at her with the strangest expression. He frowned, his eyebrows bumped together. Then his face softened and eventually he began chuckling. Well, hold on now. The chuckle had an edge of snicker. Was she missing something?

“Didn’t know martinis were a big thing in Italy.”

“
Hmph
, they aren’t.”

“So how is it you’ve become a connoisseur of James Bond’s drink. I’m assuming shaken, not stirred. Right?”

“Ah, the shaking is my favorite part!” She shrugged nonchalantly. “Picked it up from a … client.” Yeah, client. That sounded perfectly legit. She hoped.

“Let me guess.” Jax snickered, so she looked sideways at him. What the fuck was so funny that a snicker was necessary? “Dirtier the better. Three olives.”

“Bingo! We have a winner.”

“Uh huh.” His arm tightened ever so slightly. “So tell me, Charlie. What’ve you been up to lately? Brynn said something about art therapy?”

Talking about her job was way safer than thinking about dirty martinis. “Yeah. I sort of fell into it. Can’t make a living as a potter,” she explained. “So next best thing is helping others find their creative expression in everyday things. Not rocket science.”

“Got it. All that stuff, art, music, meditation, yoga—big part of PTSD programs.”

“Right, right,” she agreed. It was so cool that Jax immediately understood what she did.

“So who were your clients? How did you find them?”

“Through an agency. In this case, a sports consortium. Huge organization, the Europeans love their athletes you know.”

“Oh fuck yeah, I know,” Jax drawled.

“There were groups of therapists and instructors assigned to various teams and sometimes celebrities. I’d do the art, there was someone else on the physical—like yoga and Tai Chi. Every assignment was different.” She laughed. “When I traveled with a couple of tennis stars during tournament season, we had a professional musician along. Pretty much all he did was create playlists.”

“So, these clients. Anyone I’d know? Someone uh, famous or anything?”

She was thrilled her new brother-in-law was so interested in what she did. Felt a little bit like validation. Not that she needed any but it was still nice.

“No one I thought to include in my autograph collection. Although, I did spend ten days in Greece with a stressed out politician who must remain nameless. That was fun. He hadn’t loosened his tie in like thirty years so getting this guy to squish his toes in the sand was a challenge.”

“How about those show-off race car jockeys? Ever work with any of them?”

Charlie froze. Her eyes darted everywhere. Jax said nothing else—he just kept his arm around her shoulders and calmly worked on the bottle of ale.

Was the universe clowning her? Cause seriously—not funny.

“Uh, I didn’t know you were into racing.”

“I’m not,” he growled. “Fucking hate that daredevil crap. Trying not to die for a living is bullshit.”

She heard the tension in his voice. Jax’d know all about trying not to die.

“But you didn’t answer my question.”

“Oh, uh yeah. Racers. Mm-hmm. Matter of fact I did.” She swept some hair behind her ear and cleared her throat. What else could she say?

A low hum sounded. Jax let go of her shoulder and handed off the Mad Elf. “Here, hold this,” he muttered.

Pulling his phone from a pocket, he tapped and his fingers flew. Brynn texting from inside?

When he finished, Jax looked up and yelled to his dad. “Keep an eye on things, okay? Be back in a few minutes.” Then he looked at her long and hard. She didn’t know what to make of the attention. “Nice sweatshirt by the way.”

Charlie glanced down. Her sweatshirt? Oh, right. She laughed and smirked through a half-shoulder-roll. “Was the warmest thing I had.”

“Yeah, but Bazongas University? Charlize … come on.”

“Hey! Flaunt ‘em if ya’ got ‘em, right?”

He roared with laughter and dropped a brotherly kiss on her forehead after taking back the beer and finishing off the bottle with a loud, “Ahhhh.” What followed was the requisite belch—an ear-splitting boom that reverbed off the snow covered landscape and got their two dads groaning with fatherly disgust. “God damn I’m glad you’re here, ” Jax muttered. After another pensive look, he said, “Why don’t you head back inside where it’s warm? I gotta help my brother. He’s just arrived. The snow,” he sniggered. “I think it’s fucking with his head.”

“Brrr!” Charlie teased. “I hear that. Not used to all this winter wonderland stuff.”

“Indeed. Okay, inside you go.” He gave her a little shove and they started walking toward the patio doors. “We’ll be along in a minute. I know my bride can’t wait to meet Cal. And my parents are about to shit themselves cause it’s been a long time since he came home.”

She would have face-planted for the second time in one day if Jax hadn’t grabbed her arm when she stumbled. Cal? Oh, God. No. This can’t be happening. It’s just her imagination in overdrive. ISN’T IT?

Every bit of warmth in her body seeped out. She felt cold. Pale. Drained. When Jax pushed her inside the house, she could barely move her feet. “Honey,” he hollered. “Come get Charlize. I think she’s having an episode.” And with that, he laughed and headed along the path leading to the driveway.

Brynn was immediately at her side. “Dammit Charlie! I told you it was cold out there. You look frozen.” Her sister was vigorously rubbing Charlie’s arms in an attempt to get some blood flowing.

Frozen? Holy crap. Holy shit. Holy fuck. Brynn had no idea.

“Jax,” she mumbled. Her mouth wasn’t working properly. Not since she needed it open to help her gasp for air. “His brother …”

Brynn brightened instantly. “Caleb? Oh my God! He’s here? Kate and Adam are going to be so happy!”

“Um, Brynnie,” she choked out roughly. “Why haven’t the Merrills seen this Caleb in so long? Is he a recluse or something?”

Please say yes. Please say yes.

“Well now, there’s a long story. Jax doesn’t say much except that he adores the guy and wishes he’d come home for good. Cal spent the last couple of years—more than just a couple, actually—based in Italy. Where you were, kiddo. He’s some big time racing god or something. Formula One.”

Why was her head humming like that? And how come she couldn’t feel her fingers? What was happening?

“Sweetie,” Brynn snapped. Alarm was clearly evident in her voice but Charlie barely registered the sound. “What’s wrong?”

What’s wrong? WHAT’S WRONG? Oh my God. Jax has a brother. His name is Caleb. Cal for short. And he’s been in Italy. Driving race cars. She thought she might be sick.

“Need … to … sit,” was all she got out before her legs turned to air and she started to go down.

“Rhiann!”

And then she slithered to the floor in a numb heap.

Both of her sisters hovered. “What the fuck happened?” Rhi asked.

“Don’t know,” was the answer. “All of a sudden the color left her face and she collapsed.”

They helped her up and pulled a chair close for her to sit. Mrs. Merrill handed her a glass of water and her mother rubbed Charlie’s shoulders. Less than a minute later all hell broke loose inside her.

F
UCKING SNOW. COMING HOME IN
winter was probably a stupid move. Stomping his boots on the porch mat, he was pulling it together when Jax came around the side of the house, bundled up like Nanook of the goddamn north in a puffy down jacket and a scarf around his neck.

“Holy fuck. The prodigal son has returned!”

Cal grinned and gave him the finger. “Someone had to come and hold your hand, you pussy.”

They stared at each other for a minute after Jax climbed the stairs and joined him on the porch. The years melted away and it was just him and his big brother—the way they’d been before their long physical estrangement had ever happened.

“Dude,” Jax ground out, his voice choked with emotion.

Their embrace was long and fierce. It had been way too long. After a round of enthusiastic back slaps and a dozen more lewd quips and comments, Cal produced the white posy off a porch rocker and held it up.

“Didn’t forget.” He touched the breast pocket on his leather jacket. “Gift locked and loaded. I’d say we’re good to go. Mom and Dad are here, I take it?”

His brother chuckled with real delight. “They’re trying hard not to steal Brynn’s spotlight—the wedding and all. But seriously man—they’re all on a high waiting for you to show up. Better get in there and put ‘em out of their misery. Told my lady to have tissues handy. Knowing Mom, this might be an epic-bawler.”

Right inside the door, Jax grabbed him again in a ferocious hug. “Uh, Cal?”

“Yeah?”

“We might need to have a little talk later.”

Cal snickered as the hug ended. “What the fuck did you do?”

No answer. Just an enigmatic and very amused look. He took off his jacket, but Jax told him to hang on to it. Something about the women in the kitchen and the men outside on the patio. He knew it was thirty fucking degrees out, right?

“So, about the women,” Jax drawled. “Got Mom, of course, and Brynn’s mom, Darcy. Plus her two sisters.”

“Cool,” he said as they made for the back of the house where he could hear activity and voices.

“Yep, yep. There’s the middle sister. Rhiann. Lives in New York City and has a mouth that needs a warning label.”

A frisson of awareness slid up Cal’s neck. Where had he heard that exact expression before?

“And then there’s Charlie.”

“I thought you said sisters.”

Jax fixed him with a look. “Sisters, indeed. Charlie is the baby in the family. Her real name’s Charlize, and …”

Cal stumbled over a dust bunny and slammed his shoulder against a wall. “What?” He spoke so quickly he forgot to tone down the frantic in his voice.

“You okay there, Cal?” Jax looked down at the floor and up at him. “Or is two left feet the new thing?”