by C. M. Owens
“I think it was just a matter of time before you pushed her too far.”
“She pushes us too far too!” Hale snaps, pointing at me. “You act like she’s an angel. In case you’ve forgotten, we’re not the only heathens on this corner!”
“Take it up with your uncle. You’re not touching Lilah.”
They both narrow their eyes, and I confidently slide in next to Benson as he drops his arm to my shoulders. I’m practically gloating as I curl up against his side.
“This isn’t over, sis. You’ll have to come home sooner or later.”
“If you touch her hair in any way, I’ll shave you both bald and drag you across the lake daily for at least a month. Then I’ll let your uncle take his turn,” Benson threatens, and I grin a little bigger, while simultaneously getting a little sick.
I never considered they might come after my hair.
The Wild Women are serious about one thing—hair. Why? Well, that’s a long story.
My hair is long, dark, and I’ve worked damn hard to keep it healthy at this length. As if thinking about it, Benson runs his fingers through it absently, still staring down my brothers.
I’m not sure why that feels so intimate, but it does.
“Fine,” Killian snarls, but I still don’t trust them not to touch my hair.
My hair!
There are only so many ways to stay feminine when you have to live in the wilderness. My hair is one thing that reminds me I’m a girl most days.
Well, that and my vagina.
I don’t let the hair grow long there, in case you’re wondering.
“Get home. I’ll call your uncle,” Benson says dismissively.
They both threaten me one last time before stalking off, and Benson shuts the door as I step back. I blow out a relieved breath, until he turns to look at me with exasperation.
“Are you serious? The beards? You went for the beards?” he groans.
“This is why I didn’t tell you my plan,” I state dryly, defiantly crossing my arms over my chest.
His eyes dip to register the motion, and he swallows as he presumably loses his train of thought. I have no idea why I decided to come over here in a skimpy little pajama set.
It’s midnight now. I should look like death, per the usual. Not like a sex kitten.
Yesterday I looked like a hobo. I didn’t want to be so unappealing tonight, and don’t ask me why. I’m suffering some confusion at the moment.
His eyes drift down my legs that have a touch of tan on them. And they’re smooth, because unlike the men in this town, I use a razor.
My camisole top barely covers anything, and even shows off a sliver of skin of my stomach. It’s not completely flat, but it’s mostly flat. Flat enough to show off. It’s also a little too chilly out there to be dressed like this.
Even in my head, I’m trying to justify my mostly indecent and completely impractical wardrobe choice. Damn Benson. What’s he doing to me?
His eyes snap back up to meet mine.
“You decided to get revenge dressed like that?” He gestures to…all of me.
“Easier to run in,” I lie.
Either he buys the lie, or just doesn’t care enough to press for more. He walks by me, heading to his den.
“I figured you’d changed your mind about coming over when you didn’t show up. Now I realize you were just waiting on them to be dead to the world.”
I remove my boots, thinking back on all the poor logic in my plan. Both of them waking up while I was cutting their beards was not part of the plan. That almost caused cardiac arrest.
“I was really hoping you were still awake,” I say on a sigh. “I should have told you it’d be late.”
“You’re going to need to stay here for more than a night.”
I nod, agreeing. They’re way more pissed than even I expected.
And I’m not losing my hair, damn it.
Benson drops to the couch, stretching one long leg to his coffee table, before hitting play on the TV. I go to curl up right against his side, and don’t think about it until after he goes stiff.
Seriously. What is wrong with me?
We always touch, but I’m practically all over him right now.
His arm comes around my shoulders, and I stop thinking. If I’m attracted to a guy with a beard, then I’ll never hear the end of it. I’m okay with that.
But…Benson. I can’t do that with Benson.
First of all, he doesn’t date girls around here. Secondly, he’s a friend. One of my best friends, oddly enough.
I need to stop having weird reactions to him.
“You tired?” he asks, shifting so that I’m even closer, practically on top of his side.
“No. I will be when the adrenaline wears off though.”
He laughs softly, his arm growing more relaxed around me.
“You need your laptop?” he asks.
“It’s in my bag.” I gesture to the abandoned backpack near the door. “I made sure to pack the essentials, just in case.”
“Good thinking,” he says, a smile to his voice.
“Thanks for the protection.”
“You’ll owe me after this is all over. They’re pissed now, but wait until tomorrow.”
A grin forms on my lips as the adrenaline slowly wears off. I’m not sure when it happens, but at some point I feel him shifting again, and before I know it, he’s nothing more than a pillow under me.
Chapter 4
Wild Ones Tip #327
Always watch your back. Or at least have someone crazy enough to watch it for you.
LILAH
I jolt awake to the loud blaring of music, and arms tighten around my waist as Benson wakes up too.
Yep. I slept on top of Benson.
I’m not going to lie; I’m very tempted to grind against him right now, because he totally has morning wood, and it’s pressed right against the vee of my thighs. My thighs that are spread shamelessly over him, because somehow I straddled him in my sleep.
I sit up, and he takes a second to look at me, confused, then down to where I’m straddling his lap, and back up to my eyes. He scrubs his face as that music starts playing again, and he looks over to where it’s coming from.
Stupid phone.
We’re together all the time, and I rarely see that phone. Now, in a matter of days, I’ve seen it constantly.
He grabs it, putting a hand on my hip when I try to get up. I stay put instead of moving as he answers.
“Bill,” he says, his voice causing me to inwardly moan.
Why does he sound so sexy right now?
That beard…does nothing for me. Yet it’s taking all my strength not to pull his pants down and relieve the ache he’s left me with.
It doesn’t make sense. I didn’t have any reaction at all to Liam.
And he’s gorgeous!
Yet Benson has me physically aching.
Wait…Bill? Uncle Bill?
Quickest libido killer in history.
Benson smiles as he sits up, still keeping me in his lap.
“Yeah. She’s here. Spent the night after the guys chased after her.” He looks at me and winks, and I get more comfortable on his lap, maybe wiggling more than necessary.
That has him tensing.
Talk about mixed signals.
“We’ll head right over.”
I get up as he puts his phone away. “Your uncle is calling a meeting at his house,” he says as he stands.
“Right now?”
“Apparently we were the last to be called. Half the people are over there now, so yeah,” he says, running his fingers through his shaggy, black hair. “Now.”
I grab my backpack, cursing myself when I see I packed a lot of sleeping things, but nothing to wear. Deciding not to give a damn, I grab my toothbrush, hairbrush, and a ponytail holder, and rush upstairs behind Benson.
He barely turns around when I follow him into the bathroom.
“What’re you doing?”
> “Brushing my teeth and pulling my hair up,” I say as he turns away from me like he’s hiding something.
“I have to piss.”
Oh. Yeah.
I blush and dart out, and I run to another bathroom down the hall, wondering why I’m suddenly following him around.
I brush my teeth quickly, comb through my hair, then pull it up before jogging back out. Benson is walking down the stairs as I tug on my boots.
“You’re going like that?” he asks incredulously.
What’s wrong with what I’m wearing? He’s in his typical jeans and tee. I’m in pajamas. Who cares? It’s Tomahawk.
“But you’re not even wearing a bra. And those shorts…are you seriously not wearing any underwear?”
“Bugs, remember? I won’t ever wear them again until I get new ones. Those little beasts can hide anywhere.”
“Those shorts are really short—”
“Hurry! I have to see them swim the lake,” I tell him, tying the last shoe string on my boot.
“You remember that half the guys are not getting sex regularly, right?” he drawls as he follows me down the stairs to the dock.
“What does that have to do with my brothers swimming the lake?” I retort, staring at him like he’s lost his mind.
He stares back at me for a second like I’m an idiot, but I have no idea what I’m missing.
“Nothing,” he grumbles, finally helping me into his boat.
I’m practically bouncing with excitement as he unties us and starts the motor, getting us away from his dock before driving us toward my uncle’s.
I swivel in my seat to face him, noticing how tense he looks. “What’s wrong?” I ask, making my voice carry over the steady roar of the motor.
“I’m just curious what he’s going to do,” he says.
“Uncle Bill?”
He nods, but before I can ask more questions, we’re coasting up to the dock that is already teeming with other boats. It’s a massive dock, since my aunt hosts parties all the time.
I help Benson tie off, and he lifts me out of the boat until I can get my knees under me and stand. Then he hauls himself onto the high dock. His hand snakes around my waist, tugging me to him when we see Liam climbing up onto the dock as well.
“Sorry for imposing, but when Penny called, I figured I had to come bear witness to the ‘biggest upset in Tomahawk history.’ How can a guy pass that up?” Liam asks, smiling over at me before flicking his gaze back to Benson.
“Should be interesting,” Benson says gruffly, his grip tightening on me even more as he hurries us by Liam.
“Those are some really nice…boots,” I hear Liam say from behind me.
“Thanks,” I say, walking a little taller in my girly combat boots with pink shoe strings.
Rarely ever does anyone notice my boots. After all, Kylie Malone is the one with a massive collection of pretty boots, so mine get overlooked.
“You have no idea what you’re doing, do you?” Benson grumbles.
“Huh?”
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he keeps me pressed to his side as we walk toward the assembly. Paul turns to look back at us, then turns to face my uncle as he talks. Then he whips his head back around, eyes wide and fixed on me as he stumbles to get the rest of his body turned around.
Benson mutters something too low for me to hear, and he moves in behind me, before wrapping his arms around my waist. I have no idea why he’s acting so weird.
I don’t usually wear my pajamas in public, but it’s not like it’s a big deal or offensive. These guys wear the same clothes for days sometimes. Not Benson, but most of them. And for fuck’s sake, have you seen the beards?
“Hey, Lilah,” Paul drawls as my uncle talks about who is missing.
He waggles his eyebrows at me, and Benson’s fists clench against my middle.
“Hey, weirdo. What’s wrong with your eyebrows?” I ask seriously.
Paul’s beard sags, and I assume he’s frowning, as Benson snorts.
“That was my sexy look,” Paul defends.
“Have you seen your face? Any expression is hidden under all that wiry hair. And why the hell are you even trying to shoot me sexy looks, anyway? You don’t even like me.”
His eyes drop to my legs again, then back up to meet my gaze. “I’ve changed my mind.”
Benson, bless him, tells Paul to fuck off.
“There she is!” Killian snarls, pointing at me like I’m the town’s leper.
I’m not gonna lie… I totally back against Benson and squeeze his hands that are covering my stomach, praying he protects me.
What if this turns into a bearded mob?
I like my hair, damn it.
My uncle’s exasperated eyes meet mine.
“What were you thinking by interfering in the beard challenge?” he demands.
“There are no rules stating anything about interference,” I say, pointing that out. I actually read the rules—yes, there’s a list of rules.
“It’s an unspoken rule,” my uncle chides.
“This is just too entertaining,” Liam says quietly from beside us, a grin playing on his lips.
“Well, it wasn’t written. So technically, I didn’t break any rules.”
I still back into Benson even more, simply because my confidence isn’t as sturdy as it was on the way over here. I never thought about this coming back on me.
Benson’s arms tighten to the fullest extent, cocooning me in false security.
Aunt Penny smirks at me before rolling her eyes.
“I think we should put it to a vote to decide the course of action,” Hale suggests, stepping beside my uncle and leveling me with a challenging glare.
“What vote?” Paul asks, bemused.
“To decide if the challenge is really over or not,” my uncle declares, and my heart sinks.
I really wanted them to have to swim the lake.
“And to decide if our dear sister has to swim the lake in our place,” Killian chimes in, smiling menacingly at me.
My uncle strokes his beard thoughtfully, as though he’s actually considering that diabolical excuse for an idea.
“That’s actually a good idea. It would give anyone else pause in the future, should they want to interfere as my niece has,” my uncle, the traitor, decides.
Several men chatter, thinking it’s a good idea.
“Or you could vote that the beard challenge is finally over, then you can all shave your faces and actually get laid,” I quickly point out.
This has everyone’s attention. Well, everyone who hasn’t been getting any because…beard.
Some of them look to be considering it, and I glare at my asshole brothers, who show signs of worry now.
Unfortunately, given the chatter around us, I’m starting to think more people are leaning toward throwing me into the lake and making me swim it. “Fear the beard” starts to take on new meaning.
Even in the summer, the warmest that water gets is still too cold. They’ll pull me out before I get hypothermic, but…I’d rather not reach that limit. Obviously.
As if by some divine intervention, five of the prettiest single women in town are suddenly crashing the beard party, and they practically swarm poor Liam. He casts a helpless glance in my direction, but I’m loving this.
It totally helps my cause. And I selfishly take pleasure in his torment.
“I vote we call the beard challenge over and the Vincent brothers swim the lake,” Paul immediately chimes in, glaring at Liam as he struggles away from the women.
“I second that,” Joey groans.
And the votes continue to fly in. My uncle doesn’t look happy about it, and my brothers look even more furious.
“What says you, Benson?” my uncle grumbles.
“I vote the challenge is over. It’s been long enough. Besides, they really deserve to swim the lake more than she does.”
My uncle glances at me, shakes his head, then turns to my two brothers, who curse
me as they walk the metaphorical plank, which is the dock.
They start stripping, and I keep my eyes up, because no sister wants to see her naked brothers. Some things just can’t be unseen.
“Someone drive along beside them and pull them out when their lips turn blue if they don’t make it across,” Uncle Bill says, sighing as though he’s devastated.
Liam is quick to volunteer to be the boat driver, and he sprints to his boat, leaving behind the five women.
“Benson, help him out,” my uncle says.
Benson seems reluctant, but he releases me, walking out to follow Liam. He lets Liam drive as he takes a seat and shoots me an unknown look. Again, expressions are really hard to read around here because…beard.
Sick of hearing that? Well, I bet I’m sicker of all the unruly beards.
“You’re welcome,” Aunt Penny says as she joins me.
“You told the girls where to find Liam,” I surmise.
“Figured your brothers would put it to that vote. They’re decidedly predictable in this instance. A little visual encouragement on your behalf couldn’t hurt, so, yes; I told the girls where the pretty bachelor would be.”
“Thanks,” I say on an appreciative sigh.
“Thank you. As much as I love the beard, I miss Bill’s lips,” she confesses on a groan.
I laugh as she winks at me. “By the way, Benson seems to be very protective of you. Always has been, but especially so since Liam came into town.”
I shrug, trying to be cool. I’m not really sure what the deal is. I was totally into him this morning, but he seemed just as ‘friend-zoned’ as always when it came to me. So…yeah.
“I’d hate to ever mess up that friendship,” I finally say.
She sighs as though that’s the worst answer ever.
“I’m never going to get any babies,” she says before moping off.
Sad fact: she wasn’t able to have kids of her own. Which is why she always treated us like she was a surrogate mother, which she later came to be. She didn’t even hesitate to take in three orphans that most people—even the saints—would have been horrified to face.
Three teenage Wild Ones.
Instead of dwelling on Benson issues—which are weird and untimely—I move to the edge to watch as my brothers yelp when they crash into the cold water. A grin beams across my face when they start swimming as fast as they can.
