To Claim a Wilde (Wilde In Wyoming Book 6) (9 page)

Chapter 11

“Y
eah, it’s all good, Tiber. No real bumps in the road. Nothing I can’t handle, at any rate,” Canton spoke to his brother via his Bluetooth, while motioning for his assistant to enter into his office. He held out his hand for the small thumb drive Ray, his assistant, held within his hand, one he’d been waiting for him to deliver.

A brisk nod from Canton told Ray that was all that was needed from him, and with a deferential nod, a sarcastic bow and quirk of a brow, all delivered seamlessly and on cue, toward Canton, he spun on a booted heel and left his office.

Subconsciously, Canton registered both the bow and quirk of Ray’s subtle sarcasm.

“Ass...” Canton murmured under his breath, noting his best friend/assistant’s mannerisms.

“Did you just call me an ass?”

Ray had barely closed the large oak double doors behind him before Canton was inserting the thumb drive into the USB port on his desktop. He absently picked up his rimless reading glasses before he plopped his big frame down in his brother’s expensive custom chair. As lavish as the chair was, it creaked as in protest of Canton’s one hundred and seventy pounds of pure muscle sitting on its frame.

“Hell, no. Wasn’t calling you the ass. That was for Ray,” Canton answered, distracted as he waited the less than two seconds it took for the file to open and the info he needed to fill the screen.

“But,”
he clarified his statement for his brother, “I did call you that earlier today when I met with that even bigger ass, Cyrus White, and had to listen to him go on and on about his company’s objection to us buying any more liens. Seemed hell-bent on asking why we felt the need to do that, to continue when the plan was for them to purchase the land that went up for auction. Said a bunch of bullshit about how much better it was for the community, blah blah.”

Canton found what he was looking for in the file, his mind split between answering his brother and his task at hand.

“What the fu—” Tiber bit back completing the curse. “That is none of his or Rolling Hills’ concern. We will continue as we always have in how we conduct Wilde business.” His deep, normally cultured voice was infused with disdain. “In and out of the boardroom, oil field and wherever the hell else Wildes do our business. I trust that you informed him of that fact.” Tiber’s voice was curt and to the point. And reminded Canton of the way his brother was, once, long ago.

If Canton’s attention hadn’t been so distracted, he’d call his brother out on his reaction.

“No doubt about it,” Canton replied mildly, as a brow rose at his normally calm brother’s reaction. “In fact, I told the dumb jerk what he and Rolling Hills could do to the sunny side of my ass.
In fact
—” Canton stopped when his brother interrupted his faux tirade and barked a rusty-sounding laugh.

“Okay. I get the point. I know you can handle any situation, including Cyrus and Rolling Hills, brother.”

Canton glanced away from his perusal and sat back in his brother’s chair, and frowned.

“Everything good on your end?” he asked, hiding his concern. As the oldest, less than two years separating the brothers, it had always fallen on his and Tiber’s shoulders, the well-being of the family on a personal and business level.

Even though the “kids,” Brick and Riley, were getting older, not kids anymore, he and Tiber both had a bad habit of trying to do it all—taking care of the business and making sure the family was running efficiently.

“I have faith in Brick. The trip he’s on will do him good. He’s too damn wild. It’ll mature him and make a man out of him,” he joked with his brother.

“Like us,” Tiber replied, and with a melancholy smile, Canton remembered when both he and Tiber took over the reins of Wilde Oil Enterprises eight years ago.

He laughed, lightly, low. “Yeah, brother. Like it did for us.”

For the next several moments the brothers discussed business, until Tiber mentioned a meeting he needed to prepare for the next day.

“Are you sitting in my new chair when I told you not to?”

“Yes. I am in fact breaking your rule and sitting in your pretty little chair. Deal with it.” Canton laughed outright.

It was a few seconds before his brother responded as Canton thought he would. He adjusted the volume down on his Bluetooth.

“Take care of the kids.” The emotion in his voice again surprised Canton, but he didn’t say anything about it. Just let it go.

“Always. You know that.” Again, curious at his brother’s choice of words and the emotion he clearly heard, Canton frowned.

“Love you, Canton,” Tiber said quietly, and before Canton could reply, the phone went dead.

The short delay in communication was another thing he normally held little patience for, as Tiber did. Although they had the best tower for their network, one for Wilde Oil Enterprises alone, the small delay was negligible on a normal day.

On this particular one, it could kick rocks. What the hell was going on with Tiber? he wondered.

He would have continued to try to puzzle it out, but at that moment his door opened and Ray entered.

“Coast clear?”

“Yeah, man, come on in,” he replied, his voice distracted. With a shake of his head, he put the subject of his brother on mental ice as he turned back to the monitor.

Ray plopped down on the chair near Canton’s desk.

“So what’s the verdict? You letting her know what’s up? That the Wildes have the tax lien?”

“How the hell did you know about that?” Surprised, Canton’s glance flew to Ray. He’d been expecting anything but that to come from his friend’s mouth.

“That the Wildes had the lien on the McBride place, or that you haven’t told Naomi McBride?” Ray asked and laughed, his voice booming out in the office.

“Both.”

“And how long have we been friends?” Ray shrugged a broad shoulder. “Educated guess,” Ray continued. “Man, for one, as soon as Dr. McBride rolled back into town, as fine as she is, you’d better believe
every
eligible single man knew within minutes. And you already told me everything about Naomi’s situation!” he said, reminding Canton of their earlier conversation.

Then he’d needled him, asking if he minded if someone made a move on her...that was unless Canton had the hots for her...still.

Now, just as he had then, briefly, Canton wanted to knock his good-looking friend’s teeth down his throat when he’d mentioned how beautiful she was, and that
he
wanted to make a move on her.

“And two,” Ray continued, unaware of or not giving a damn about Canton’s irritation, “you forget I was there the night you two...uh, met,” Ray finished, examining imaginary dirt under his short nails. Canton would bet his last dollar it was more like his buddy didn’t give a crap if he was irritating him or not...in fact, he’d bet his last penny he was doing it
just
to irritate him.

Canton sat back in his chair, saying nothing, just listening.

“You also know her family is in hock. And I’m guessing your plan is to play this out as much as you can and be her knight in shining armor, huh?” Although laugh lines scored his friend’s face, there was an undercurrent of...something else besides humor there.

If Canton didn’t know any better, he would say his friend was warning him off, as though he would either hurt Naomi or get hurt himself.

“Question is, who you really tryin’ to rescue, man?” he asked, his tone casual, but a trace of caution running through his tone.

“Hell, it’s not my business either way. So... Ima let that sit right there for a sec. Take your time answering.”

The two longtime friends each took the other’s measure. What started off as their normal lighthearted banter had turned serious in less time than it had taken for Canton to read the entire file he’d asked Ray to retrieve for him.

For whatever reason, Ray had taken it upon himself, obviously, to look into the file Canton had asked for. So of course he had put a few things together.

Not that he cared. Ray was not only his best friend, but had been his right-hand man for nearly seven years, since he’d asked him to come on board and work with him at Wilde Oil Enterprises.

There were few to no secrets between the two men, and in fact, Ray was like a brother to him.

But even in that, he wasn’t ready to play Oprah to his Gayle and open up that damn much. There was only so much “male bonding” a man could do.

“You know so much, inch-high private eye, why don’t you tell me?” he grunted, insulting his friend for the two-inch difference in their height, something he’d been doing since puberty.

As usual, Ray brushed off the insult and laughed. “Naw... I think Ima let you figure that one out, man. Unless you need something else, I’m heading home. And by home, I mean out to find a willing woman who will, as the Staples Singers once sang, ‘take me there.’”

“I’m good. I’ll catch up with you later,” was Canton’s reply, his attention back to the file on the screen.

Left alone, he recalled the encounter with Naomi.

It had been two days since he’d left it up to her to contact him next. He knew it had to be her decision ultimately. She had to feel as though she were the one in control.

He’d left a message with her the night she had left him, late, one that had gone directly to her voice mail, as she no doubt had her phone turned off, something he’d wanted. He’d made sure it was late, and in fact didn’t want to speak to her. He had been banking on the fact that she’d be asleep and would see he’d left a message the next day.

In the message he’d informed her that if she were willing to take on the “assignment” of being his escort, in exchange for his family trying to help hers to reclaim their land, she had forty-eight hours to decide.

And
only
forty-eight hours.

With that, he’d waited. The ball was in her court now. At least seemingly. He knew she’d do anything it took to resolve her family’s problems.

The reason for the limited time was mainly due to Canton’s impatience to see her again.

He’d tried to lie to himself that it was because he had an upcoming function to attend in less than a week and needed her to come with him if she was on board.

Yes, it was true, he did in fact have a function to attend, one that had he been in the country, Tiber would have attended for the family. True, it was not a Wilde function, but instead one sponsored by Rolling Hills, where some of their top executives would be in attendance.

And the potential deal with Rolling Hills hadn’t been inked, and they were still trying to schmooze the Wildes; all of this Canton knew.

He also knew that he would rather be anywhere else but at this party, but because they hadn’t made a decision yet, it was his responsibility to represent the family.

If he could, he would have strong-armed Brick into taking his place, but he didn’t yet trust his younger brother with a job so important.

Brick still had his Wilde streak in him and hadn’t been...tempered...yet, through maturity. In a few years, yes. But now? No, not yet, Canton thought, thinking of his hotheaded younger brother.

Now he was glad he hadn’t attempted to strong-arm the youngest male Wilde. If he had, he wouldn’t have an excuse to see Naomi and start their deal.

The event wasn’t until the weekend, and it was only halfway through the week, so it wasn’t exactly an emergency. Canton had yet another plan in mind.

As he’d waited for Naomi to come to the realization she had no choice, a decision he was banking on, he hadn’t been idle with his time.

Seven years ago when she’d left, he’d found out as much information about her as he could. He’d told himself it was just out of curiosity.

One of the things he’d learned was that not only had she graduated from undergraduate school early, she’d gotten accepted into one of the most prestigious medical schools in the country, to go into what he later learned was pediatrics.

Upon her return home, she’d secured a position with Dr. Mason, one of the small town’s few pediatricians, a man who’d in fact been the pediatrician for him and his siblings growing up.

He’d found it odd that she’d chosen to work in the small rural clinic. With a résumé as impressive as hers—early graduation from undergrad and medical school, internship with one of the leading clinics for neonatal care in the nation—she could have had her choice of clinics to join.

Inevitably, as they had over the past two days, memories of what he’d done to her surfaced in his mind, and on cue, his body stirred to life, remembering how good she’d felt, smelled...and tasted.

It had been hard as hell, pun intended, to put thoughts of her from his mind. The intimacy they’d already experienced, the fact that she had allowed him to do what he had to her, for her, also left little doubt that she was as sexually attracted to him, still, as he was to her.

He allowed his eyes to close, his nostrils flaring as he remembered her scent and her taste. Her smell was as intoxicating now as it had been all those years ago. Her taste beyond anything he’d ever experienced.

His cell rang and he sat up, eyes narrowing in irritation. Until he glanced at the time, a sixth sense telling him who was calling him before he even glanced at his phone. Canton loved Naomi’s stubborn spirit.

But he knew that in the end, she’d do the one thing he would have done in the same situation; the needs of the family always outweighed the needs of the individual. He recognized that Dr. Naomi Evangeline McBride would feel that she had no choice but to agree to the deal.

His admiration for her was growing in equal proportion to the hot-as-Hades lust he felt for the curvy pediatrician.

“Fine. I’m in. When is my first...gig?”

The sound of her voice, even through her obvious irritation, was like fine wine, melodic and smooth.

It had been only two days since he’d heard it, and before that seven years. So why in hell did he miss it as though it had been a lifetime ago since he’d spoken to her?

Irrationally pissed that she enticed him so easily, in a matter of minutes, just like that, with a simple—curt at that—greeting, Canton sought to get back on even footing, his foot being first.