Page 105 of Wilder at Heart
Theo
My older brother kicks back in the passenger seat of my car, a single man for what I firmly believe will be the last time. His future wife has refused him a lift. Instead, she’s driving Bea and her mum down to Sorrel Farm in her brand-new Cayenne e-Hybrid—a wedding present from her lovesick fiancé.
This is a good thing for Miles, because the noise level in that car will be through the fucking sunroof. And it’s a good thing for me, because I seriously need to talk to him.
Having worked my ass off to earn the leap of faith necessary for Miles and my parents to entrust me with a serious opportunity in New York, I now have to do the one thing they all know me for.
Flake out.
Jump ship.
Ask for their blessing in chasing a shiny new project before I’ve broken ground on the one I’m supposed to be running with.
‘Got a problem,’ I tell my brother, squinting through my aviators as I tailgate some twat doing precisely seventy in the outside lane. ‘Move it, dickhead,’ I growl.
I’m not at my most relaxed. Not close. There are far too many moving parts in play for my liking. Far too many things that could go wrong. Things that stand between me finding happiness with Nora.
I’m not usually the kind of guy who needs my ducks in a row. That’s more Miles’ department. Or Nora’s. I usually act first, think later. But I’m about to take the biggest risk of my life. Gamble everything I have. My career. My heart. My trust fund.
And nothing is guaranteed.
It would be far more sensible, for instance, if I declared my undying love for Nora first and then furtively attempted to extricate myself from my Manhattan commitment later. (And, by commitment, I mean my family’s giant and arguably blind leap of faith in me.) At least then if she tells me where to go, I can flee to New York to lick my wounds.
But no. I have to do this properly. Have to show her that I’ll put her first. That nothing else matters without her.
The geriatric in the Volvo finally moves into the next lane, and I flatten the accelerator. I can feel Miles’ judgmental gaze without looking at him.
‘What.’
‘I’d like to make it to my wedding alive,’ he says mildly.
‘Did you or did you not ask for a lift?’ I should probably be minding my tone with him right now, given what I’m about to ask him, but he’s winding me up.
‘Why don’t you tell me what your problem is?’
‘My problem’—I begrudgingly ease up on the gas—‘is Nora.’
‘I thought everything was going well with you two. You sure as fuck couldn’t keep your hands off her in France.’
Obviously, I will never tell my brother Nora and I started out with a fake relationship. He’s her client, and he’d also never trust me again.
‘There are a few issues you aren’t aware of,’ I say carefully. ‘She had a rough time of it, growing up. Her dad was a dick. He fucked off. And I’m not sure I’ve done enough to demonstrate to her that I can be a stable factor in her life.’
He’s quiet. He won’t be unsympathetic to her plight. I know he worries about what damage his unfortunate choice of first wife will do to Bea in the long term. Even if his choice of second wife couldn’t be better, for both him and his daughter.
‘Do you love her?’ he asks finally, twisting in his seat so he can face me.
I glance at him quickly. ‘Yeah. I’m fucking besotted. Like—head over heels.’
‘Is she the one?’
‘She’s the only one there will ever be for me.’
‘Glad to hear it. So what’s the problem? Has she explicitly told you you can’t make her happy? Give her what she needs?’
I sigh heavily. ‘We haven’t even spoken about it properly, to be honest. But I’ve reached that conclusion all by myself. I’m everything she doesn’t want in a guy.’
Miles laughs. ‘The way you two were practically fucking in the pool, and at Paloma, I don’t think you’reeverythingshe doesn’t want.’
