Page 33 of Van Cort

EVERETT

At some point in the night after I’d watched them together and left, he eventually came to me.

We didn’t speak when he found me in the lounge.

We stared, like I am doing now, whilst I drank the damn fine whiskey he’d found in the cellar and thought of times before now.

He probably thought of the same origins.

Or maybe he was just enjoying fucking with me.

I sneered at him when he smiled, almost pissed with what he’d created and what I was allowing.

It should have been easier than it was to let him play me.

It should have been like old times. It wasn’t.

I was jealous of his time with her, and resentful of the soft laughter she gave him.

Part of me, despite instigating the evening, wanted to speak in the room while they fucked.

I could have ended it then. Set her free.

Unfortunately, the deep vein of West is as rooted in me as this place is – as she is becoming to me.

And watching them, being part of their sensuality - something I can’t find inside me - was something I’ve missed so much it hurts inside.

So I went back to her, and I undressed, and I held her and I fucked her and I stayed inside her longer than I have with anyone before her.

Something changed for me in those last moments.

There was a flicker of soft, a murmur of gentleness.

She became more to me. More than a marriage contract – far more than just a fuck.

I felt her inside of me – her eyes, her soul.

I needed her - was desperate for her, just like I needed Lara.

Now, I’m sitting in the same bedroom armchair he sat in last night, staring out across the view while she sleeps.

The lake is as still as it usually is, mirroring the cloudless sky above it, and the forest still anchors this spread of wealth to the ground just as it always has.

I know it all so well. Every turn in the building, and every track through the trees, is embedded in me whether I like it or not. Just like my brother is.

This was my father’s room – the man of the house.

It isn’t his anymore, though. It’s mine.

Just like she is.

“Good morning,” she says. I look over my shoulder to see her walking from the bed and slipping a robe on. “Is there any of that for me?” I frown, unsure what she’s talking about. “The coffee? Daydreaming again?”

I stop frowning and reach for the cafetiere to pour her a cup. “You could say that.”

“Nice dreams?”

My lips quirk. “Yes.”

She takes the coffee from the table and heads to the French doors, sighing.

“I couldn’t daydream if I tried. My head is far too thick from last night’s alcohol.

Remind me not to mix my drinks like that again.

Yours too, presumably, considering you don’t drink that much.

” I shouldn’t be drinking at all. “How old was that whiskey? I swear it had cobwebs on the bottle.”

“It was a forty-five-year-old malt. My father’s pride and joy.

Come here.” She turns, sipping her drink, and walks back to me.

My hand reaches for her and gently pulls her into my lap.

“Look at the view and forget the whiskey.” She gets herself comfortable, nuzzling into my side.

“It’s easy to daydream here. If you just gaze at what is rather than what was, I’m sure you could spend a lifetime doing it. ”

We sit like that for a while, just staring, whilst I twine the length of her hair in my fingers. “Are you ever going to tell me your real name?” She stiffens a little.

“What?”

“Considering this open communication and honesty we’re sharing, I’d expect you to offer the same in return.”

“You know?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“I have to pay for you whilst you’re here working for me. Contract.”

“Ah.” She leans back and looks at me, a slight smile on her face as she wanders her fingers under my robe.

“I guess that makes me a high-class hooker. What can I do for you?” The coolness of her palm presses against my stomach, travelling lower.

“Although after all of last night’s exertions, I’m not sure how you’ll manage it again so fast.”

“I’ll give you a simple heads-up. Changing the subject never, ever works with me.”

She rolls her eyes and looks at the view again, pulling her hand away. “It’s a stupid name. Born from bohemian parents and some bizarre need to clearly cause me embarrassment for my entire life. Perhaps the only thing I resent them for.”

“Say it.”

“No.”

“Say it or I’ll make you say it.”

Her eyes narrow on me. “Are you going to spank me again?”

“Maybe.” She moves to flee, but I clamp down to hold her in place. “Or maybe I’ll twist your nipples until you scream and beg. We could do that.” Her eyes widen as she struggles and laughs. “We could also try orgasm denial. Say it. I don’t like secrets.”

“Fine. River-Spring. There. Happy?”

“Extremely.” It’s one thing I have over my brother. A connection he can’t touch, even if he does have to use it moving forward. “And I like it. River suits you. It flows like your hair. Think I’ll call you that from now on.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” I get up, still holding her, and place her back on the bed.

“Everett?”

“Hmm?”

“I haven’t done any work for you, despite you paying for me.”

“No.”

“So, do you have any intention of letting me do any work? I’m sure, despite you telling me the numbers won’t add up, I can find something. I’m good at my job, you know.”

I stare, licking my lips at the thought of actually letting her into my financial affairs. “Would you like to play with my accounts?”

“Yes.”

“You get one then. On Monday. We’ll see how that goes.” What harm can she do? I’ll make it all back in an hour if she screws up. “And now that’s dealt with, get dressed. I’ll show you around town before we get ready to leave.”

She looks at me, a smile spreading over her face. “Can we get coffee? Go to a bakery? All the small-town goodness?”

I nod and start leaving the room. “I just have some work to do first.”

She pouts. “I can’t tempt you with a shower?”

I keep walking. “We’ll never get out of here if you keep tempting me with that sort of offer. Get dressed, River.”

***

Work emails completed, I head back upstairs to get dressed. The sound of grunting and moaning assaults me as I round the top landing. I stop, looking along the hallway as the noise rings back at me. He’s fucking her. And, by the sound of her, she’s enjoying it.

I swallow, unsure if I’m aroused by it or pissed as hell.

“Yes, Everett! Oh god yes. Keep… yes, don’t… yes… stop!” The corner of my mouth tips up, and my fists tighten as if I’d got hold of that hair of hers. “Yes!” My name. Not his.

I wait in the hall for the noise to subside.

“Hmm, you better put yourself back together,” he says. “Don’t wash, though. I want to smell me on you all day.”

Asshole.

She giggles, and I hear muffled voices, maybe lips kissing.

Still, I wait, not bothering to hide myself.

In fact, I’m so incensed that I’m not even sure if I want to be caught out so we can fight about her.

Eventually, it’s West that turns out of the room, naked as the day he was born. He looks at me, a smile on his face like he just won some competition. He didn’t. It’s my name she called for, and that isn’t changing anytime soon.

There’s no conversation between us; we just stare until he ruffles my hair on the way past. I want to react, shove him, get pissy. Instead, I watch him walk by, strip my robe off, and then head back to the room. Letting him know he’s affected me will make it worse all ’round.

I kiss her the second I’m in the space, passionately, and too possessively, not caring that she’s trying to pull her jeans back on or that she still seems ravished from him.

It’s potent, for too many reasons that I can’t process, and if I wasn’t the adult I am, I’d tip her over the bed and fuck her dry for something she’s just done with someone who isn’t me.

Her hand pushes at my chest until our lips break. “Easy, Everett. Once wasn’t enough? What’s got you worked up again?”

“You have. It’s all you. I thought you would have worked that out by now. Bringing you here? Offering you more of me?”

A soft smile breaks over her lips as both of her hands roam across my chest. “I think we both need some air.” She pats me and backs off a step or two. “Get dressed, Everett. You definitely owe me coffee and a pastry after that.”

She leaves me alone in the room, and I shower and change quickly to make sure he doesn’t get his way again. When I get downstairs, I can’t find her for a while. Really? Again?

I frown and look around, very ready to find West and beat the living shit out of him. But I finally see that she’s sitting out on the veranda looking at the view.

“What are you doing out here?” I ask, as I walk the boards to meet her.

“Looking at the island. You’re right. You can daydream here. It would be easy to lose yourself in this life. Maybe it wasn’t the easiest for you as a child, but this could be a wonderful family home. I’m sorry it wasn’t.” Hmm?

I stare with her, remembering a beating I took on this very porch by an enraged father to protect West. He might have deserved it that time. It was him who broke the crystal decanter after all. I got in the way, though. Did my duty.

“Come on.” I reach my hand to her and pull her up when she takes hold, leading us away from the house and towards the tracks that wind up and into town. “We’ve got a bit of a hike. Time to use those thighs for something other than riding me.”