To Desire a Wilde Read Online Free

cooking show that would begin taping in the fall.
    â€œGrab some bread. Yaz and I made some rye last night,” Holt said, making a sound with his mouth and smacking his lips.
    At that, Shilah turned to his brother, raising a brow. “ You and Yaz?”
    â€œYep, she’s been giving me cooking lessons. In exchange she allows me to give her lessons in…well, let’s just say my baby is learning the ABCs of how to treat her man.” A grin of remembered pleasure crossed his face. He turned to Shilah. “Just need to slice it,” he said, nodding his head toward the pantry.
    Holt frowned, his thumb in his mouth. “What? You don’t like rye bread?”
    Shilah laughed. “First you rant about her not taking care of you, then you’re talking about helping her cook and then waxing poetic on how well she treats her man. ABCs of how to treat her man, my ass.” Shilah laughed. “You’re so whipped it ain’t even funny, man.”
    Holt shrugged, humor lighting his pale blue eyes. “If I don’t grouse every once in a while, y’all will thinkI’m getting soft.” He winked. “Can’t have that. My babe likes me…hard.”
    â€œWhoa!” Shilah threw up his hands. “I’m a man. And your brother. That doesn’t get me excited, the thought of you getting hard,” he said, tossing the sack holding the bread toward Holt. Which his ex-NFL brother easily caught, an ever-present half grin on his face. “In fact, it makes me wanna hurl.”
    With both of his brothers, Nate and Holt, engaged, for the first time in a long time Shilah felt alone, in a way he hadn’t felt in longer than he wanted to remember.
    Not that he wasn’t happy for them; it was just that at times lately it hit him that soon his brothers would start families of their own, and the thought was unsettling.
    He lifted a bag of chips he’d found on the shelf and walked toward the island-style counter in the middle of the kitchen and placed it alongside the bread.
    â€œYou’re a lucky man. Nothing wrong with appreciating what you’ve got.”
    He felt Holt’s curious gaze on him as they quickly made sandwiches for their makeshift lunch.
    Holt sat next to him on a barstool, took a healthy bite of his sandwich and swallowed. Around the bite, Holt began, “You know, Yaz has this friend—”
    â€œHas Nate returned from Cheyenne yet?” Shilah interjected. There was no way in hell he was going to let his brother finish that particular train of thought. Damn, was he so pitiful that Holt thought he needed fixing up?
    Shilah was perfectly happy remaining the single man in their family. Besides the yearning he’d felt when he’d watched his brothers with their brides-to-be, sharing secret smiles or going to bed early, eyes only for eachother, Shilah knew that love and happily-ever-after wasn’t in the cards for him.
    He’d known that from the time he was a young boy. He was too…flawed, for any woman to ever love him.
    Immediately the image of Ellie Crandall came to his mind, as unexpected as it was sudden.
    He forced away the conflicting feelings he felt at seeing her again.
    Although he’d chosen to go to a local college when he wasn’t working at the ranch, he’d often spent his free time at the library, studying and cramming four years of college into two. Soon after graduating, he’d devoted his time fully to the ranch, working long, hard days. At that point the ranch had begun to grow—he and his brothers as well had worked alongside Jed to see to that.
    Although his brothers had gone on temporarily to pursue other interests, it had been for the betterment of the ranch. Nate, the oldest, had been involved in a lucrative stint of bull riding, and Holt in the NFL. The money they’d earned was used to improve and expand the ranch.
    Within a short time, their profits had skyrocketed as