He came closer, slowing down now that he saw them on the porch.
“Morning.” He said, tipping his hat at Celia and turning a smiling face at her grandfather.
“Where is my brother?” He asked, stroking the neck of his horse as he steadied himself in front of them. Celia noticed how he was still avoiding her eyes, while she couldn’t think of anything else other than how he had slid into her the previous night. How she had seen him naked, knew how his chest felt under her fingertips.
“He must be sleeping.” Her grandfather said, and Celia could see in his eyes how much he admired the younger man. Wilder clenched his jaws and looked up at one of the windows.
“Celia, pass me that pebble.” He said suddenly, and she nearly stumbled in surprise. She hadn’t expected him to even acknowledge her, leave alone ask her to do something. She saw the pebble he was talking about and she stepped down from the porch and handed it over to him.
Their hands touched when they exchanged the piece of rock. It reminded her in a flash how rough and course his hands were, how large they felt on her body, how he had used that very same finger to make her feel beautiful the previous night.
But Wilder didn’t seem to notice their touch, instead he aimed the pebble at the window he was looking at and threw it. It fell to the ground and he tipped his head to it again, Celia picked it up and handed it to him, a smile forming on her face. He threw it at the window again. It clattered against the pane. They did it all over again a third time till the pane was being lifted up; Conrad’s head stuck out. His dark hair was a mess, his face looked thin and sleepy and he rubbed his eyes as he looked down at them.
“What?” He snapped at his brother.
“You better put on some clothes, little brother. The cattle aren’t going to herd themselves.” Wilder looked up at Conrad, with a bored look on his face. Celia was biting down on her lip, staring at Wilder. He looked handsome in the sun, unrealistically good looking. She couldn’t believe that he had made love to her the previous night, that he had left a little part of himself inside her.
“You are such a pain in the…” Conrad was saying and then he waved at Celia. “Morning Celia, you look beautiful in that dress.”
She forced herself to look up and smile at him.
“Good morning Conrad.” She said and looked away at her grandfather immediately.
“I’ll come down if Celia cooks me some scrambled eggs. That is the only way I’ll get out of bed.” Conrad said with that same wide smile on his face. Celia chuckled at the absurdity of it, and then she looked at her grandfather and at Wilder, with her widened brown eyes. She couldn’t believe that they actually expected her to do it.
“Just give him what he wants. Consider it your chore for the day.” Wilder said and before she could reply to him, he was riding away on his horse again.
“Two toasts, scrambled eggs and a glass of orange juice. You’ll find a tray in the kitchen for them. Bring them up to my room.” Conrad called out to her, before he disappeared back into his room again.
Celia huffed, her mouth hanging open a little as she turned to her grandfather in complete surprise.
“Thank you dear. He’s the baby of the family, quite spoilt. But a good boy you’ll see.” He said, his voice strained, but at least he sounded happy; Celia thought. She sighed deeply, patted his hand and walked back into the house. She couldn’t remember the last time she had made breakfast for anybody but herself.
The eggs and toast were ready in fifteen minutes. She arranged them on a heavy tray, placed a glass of orange juice next to them and started carrying it to the stairs. At the foot of the steps she breathed in deeply and licked her lips. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea, she thought. She didn’t want to be alone with Conrad, she didn’t want to be anywhere near him. But it was too late now, she should have said something to Wilder before.
She took the stairs slowly, stretching out time as much as she could till she finally reached the first floor, and to the door of Conrad’s bedroom. How spoilt was he? While his brother worked away at the ranch, without a single air of being wealthy; Conrad on the other hand behaved like he was some sort of prince.
Celia knocked on the door twice, before she heard his voice asking her to come in. The tray shook a little in her hand when she entered.
Conrad’s room was good enough to belong to a prince. With Wilder, it was easy for her to forget just how much money the two brothers had inherited, but Conrad clearly didn’t have any qualms about showing it off.
His bed cover was in a deep red velvet, to match the curtains as well as the upholstery on the chairs that dotted the room. His carpet was thick and Arabian. There were gold fixtures on everything, and an elaborately embroidered dressing gown hung from the back of the door which Celia shut as she entered his room.