Mr. White

Chapter 2

Chapter Two

One week earlier

I’ve only just arrived, and already I’m sweating beneath my linen suit jacket. Who the f**k gets married outside when it’s eighty-percent humidity? My f*****g half-brother, that’s who. The only reason I’m here with my twin is because Dad has suddenly developed this misplaced sense of legacy and family unity. I should have listened to Nico, older by just six minutes. He had the fine sense to tell Dad to go f**k himself. I like my trust fund too much to do that, though. At least right now. A few more real estate deals and I’ll be King of my own kingdom, and the Case Family Wineries can burn in hell for all I care.

I check my cell phone one last time before I silence it and head to my seat. Still no word from my bank in Dubai, and it’s making me nervous as f**k. I should be at my desk back in San Francisco, not here in Nowhereville, Kansas, where the internet is still dial-up, and the cell service is sketchy at best. I plaster a smile on my face and give my mother a peck on the cheek. “Mom, Dad.” They enjoy these social graces. I think they’re bullshit. But for their sakes, I play along.

She pats my cheek. “You look so handsome today.”

Dad clears his throat. “I know you weren’t thrilled about making the trip out, but-”

“Family is family.” I finish for him wryly. Because nothing says family like manipulation and intimidation. In that way, I’ve learned from the best. And while it’s been hell on my personal life, at least it’s lined my pockets.

I catch a flash of blue out of the corner of my eye and turn in time to see a perfectly heart-shaped a*s pause beneath the dais where my older brother Jason and his friends are gathered. I peruse the backside of the flaxen-haired blonde sheathed in pale blue satin. Long, shapely legs, hips made for squeezing, and a spine that’s meant for a hand tracing its length. She looks out of place in the sea of dark denim and cowboy hats. She must feel my eyes burning into her backside, because she turns and our eyes lock.

And my world tilts.

It’s not that she recognizes I’m staring and thinking all manner of dirty thoughts, it’s that her eyes pull me in like some kind of a cosmic vortex. I can’t look away. She stares back with a recognition that makes my stomach drop to my toes. Her gaze cracks me open, leaving me exposed… raw. And very uncomfortable. Heat prickles at the base of my skull as her eyes bore into the deepest, darkest part of my soul. The place where I’ve buried all my s**t, all the crap that only Austin and Nico and I know about.

I feel myself falling, drowning in eyes the color of ancient glaciers, yet I still can’t bring myself to look elsewhere, to break the powerful connection between us. Her eyes widen, and a hint of a smile ghosts across her lips. And then she does something entirely unexpected. She peruses me. Her eyes drop and rove hungrily across my chest, and… down. I find myself standing taller, preening under her heated stare.

She’s naturally beautiful- slender with graceful limbs. High, pert breasts, and just enough cushion in her hips to make a man salivate. Full, sensual lips with a lower lip that hints at a pout. I’m grinning openly when our eyes meet again. My body is aware, alight with energy, and I feel like I could run a 5k in under fifteen minutes. My feet spring to action, but before my foot lands in front of me, the redhead I remember from the confrontation Nico and Austin and I had with Jason a month or so back, grabs her attention and the connection is lost.

I bite back a regretful sigh, my hopes for a wedding tryst going up in smoke as she walks away. I take my seat and Austin slips in next to me, staring avidly at the redhead. I lean over to him. “Isn’t that the hot little number who was with them in March?”

“Don’t even f*****g think about it,” he growls, shooting me a glare.

I cover a chuckle. “Don’t tell me you want to tap that?” It wouldn’t surprise me. He’s always had a taste for wild. Me? My kryptonite runs more on the cool side - the ones who seem completely in control on the outside, but once you peel back the layers, they’re dirty as f**k. “She knows Jason, right? He’d kill you if he found out.” There’s no love lost between me and my brothers, and Jason. Too much baggage. And while I could see Austin taking a little bit of revenge at Jason by f*****g a friend of his, it’s risky. Jason may be different now that he’s “found the love of a good woman,” but his soul is just as black as the rest of ours.

Austin makes a noncommittal noise, and before I can prod him further, the wedding starts. As far as weddings go, it’s fine. Everyone cries at the appropriate moment, everyone sighs over the brides in their beautiful dresses and the cute redheaded flower girl who must belong to the woman Austin can’t stop staring at. I’m bored as f**k, and still anxiously awaiting the phone call from my bank. The funds should have been deposited by now, and I push down another wave of anxiety. If this deal goes south, it could ruin my reputation in real estate, not to mention cost me a fortune. I tap my fingers on my leg as the brides and their grooms kiss and leave down the center aisle.

Austin is up and out of his seat in a flash, likely after the redhead, while Dad pushes his way through the crowd to Jason, acting the proud papa. An unfamiliar sense of longing comes over me. I wish I could believe he was proud of any of us, that he actually cares about something besides appearances, and his f*****g legacy. I shake off the maudlin thought, and instead, crane my neck in search of white-blonde hair and a pale blue slip dress. A cocktail server who looks barely old enough to be legal, offers a tray of pink bubbles. “A glass of the estate’s wine, sir?” she asks too eagerly.

Jason’s now calling his Kansas wine experiment an estate wine? I don’t care if it’s made with our clone of Cabernet Franc, it’s f*****g Kansas wine and isn’t worthy. The girl stares at me expectantly. f**k, she’s waiting for me to taste it. I toss it back and the bubbles roll across my tongue. My mouth explodes with bright fruit, crisp acidity, and finishes with toasty, yeasty notes. I nearly choke, I’m so surprised. “Holy s**t, that’s good,” I sputter. “Another?”

She grins at me hopefully, and hands me another flute. I salute her and drift away, letting her down easy. I’m on a mission to find Blondie, but she seems to have vanished into thin air. I circle the makeshift dance floor twice, scan the trees, stop at the bar and order up a neat whiskey- something more fortifying than pink bubbles. I check my phone three more times. Still no word about my deposit. I have half a mind to step away and call my lawyer, but it’s futile with only one bar of service out here. Something is going on. I can feel it, and not in a good way. But I put my financial worries on ice when I see a flash of blue disappearing around the corner of the barn. Maybe? My pulse kicks up a notch as I skirt the party and make a beeline for the barn. I force myself to slow my pace. I’m a prince of wine royalty and a badass real estate developer, I remind myself harshly, not a horny teenager on his first date. I always get what I want, and what I want right now, besides my trust-fund deposit showing up in my bank account, is to get to know a certain lovely blonde.