Coercion by Amelia Wilde

Author:Amelia Wilde [Wilde, Amelia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dangerous Press

14

WILL

The slam of a door would make the most sense. A car, speeding away from Emerson’s house. Cold silence.

Instead, Sinclair makes coffee and tells Evan about the prince he rescued from a crevasse. Emerson makes tea and disappears upstairs. I sit at the kitchen island and wish a meteor would fall directly on top of me.

It hasn’t been that long when I get the text.

Emerson: Bristol’s ready to see the house. Put your shoes on.

“Shoes. Shoes, Sinclair.” I’ve interrupted him mid-sentence.

He raises his eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

“Get your shoes on. You too, Evan. Bristol wants to see the house.”

The three of us are in the foyer when the twins race down the stairs at a breakneck speed, Emerson and Daphne following.

Bristol’s last.

I can’t take my eyes off her. She’s in leggings and a soft sweater, her dark hair in a bun on the top of her head, and there’s nobody in the world I’ve ever wanted more. There’s also nobody in the world I’ve acted like more of a prick to. The twins’ guesses about what we’re going to see while they put their shoes on fade to nothing.

I should give her space. I should just keep my fucking mouth shut. I’m going to do both those things, except I don’t. I brush past Evan and go to meet her.

She pauses on the bottom step, almost eye-level with me. Her eyes are a little red, which makes the green look brighter.

I’m sorry. That’s what I’m supposed to say. “I can buy you another house. Any house.”

Bristol wrinkles her nose. “I want the one next door.”

“I don’t have to live in it.”

She narrows her eyes. “Yes you do, Mr. Leblanc. I won’t agree to the offer otherwise.”

Weight lifts off my shoulders. “You’re funny, Ms. Anderson. Negotiation happens before your signature goes on the paperwork.”

“I guess I should read over what I signed. Did you sneak in a line that says I’m your permanent corporate whore?”

“The house does have an office.”

“I’m in trouble, then.”

I want to keep playing with her. Teasing her. Joking with her. Even if it hurts as much as it feels good.

I can’t.

I put my hands on her waist. “No. Not in trouble.”

“Good.” Bristol leans in, puts her hands carefully on my chest, and kisses me. It’s a soft, sweet kiss. “Neither are you. Can I see the house now?”

I take her to see the house.

On the front porch, I tell the twins that it’s theirs, and Bristol’s, and mine. Mia’s eyes get so wide they take up most of her face. Ben clutches her arm. “What? What? What?”

Nothing—no business deal, no boxing match—could ever compare to the way Bristol’s face lights up when we go through the front door.

I had the last cleaning service turn on lamps all through the house, so the first thing she sees beyond the foyer is the huge living room it opens into, and out the glassed-in doors—

Mia and Ben go into the living room holding hands, like they’re walking into Narnia. They stop when their faces are an inch from the glass on the doors.

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