by C. M. Owens
I narrow my eyes. “I’m literally a Wild One. I could have handled it if I had been prepared, Benson. That’s a fraction of the reason why I have to fly that damn flag in my yard when I’m home—because we can handle anything thrown at us. And to warn the neighbors I’m in—town rules and all that—but that’s not the point. The point is that I can handle complicated and crazy. I just need to know you won’t keep me in the dark when things are uncomfortable for you.”
I’m looking up at him as he frowns down at me.
“You’re right. And I’m sorry. But you kept on about not settling down for years, and then—”
I kiss him, dragging his head down to shut him up. He groans as he pulls me closer, and one of his hands goes to my hair, angling my face up even more. Finally, I smile against his lips.
“I didn’t know how much fun settling down could be,” I say against his lips, smiling.
He smiles back, and I start to tell him I love him…when I see his family is all on the deck and staring down at us. Sadie included.
I’d rather my first confession of love not be in front of his ex.
Benson looks over, and he takes a deep breath, his touch on me tensing.
His mother has tears in her eyes for some weird reason.
“So, do you guys want to go to a fish fry tonight?” I ask them.
Benson goes absolutely stiff, and Deacon grins at him.
“We’d love to!” his mother squeals. “Benson never lets us join him with townies.”
I let it slide that she just called us townies.
“No one tells our last name,” Benson says, pointing a finger at the little boy who looks over, confused.
“We’re now the Nolans family,” Deacon affirms.
“But why?” his dear, sweet mother asks so innocently.
“Because it’s Tomahawk,” I say with a smile, even as Benson’s eyes narrow on me. “And in Tomahawk, there are four corners of crazy to represent the Wild Ones. They’d never leave him alone if they found out Benson—our beloved, bearded, awesome, manly Benson—was secretly the heir to a body wash empire.”
A muscle jumps along Benson’s jaw, but his eyes are smiling at me.
“What’s wrong with body wash?” his stepfather asks.
I’ve always loved how Benson smells. And because I love him, I won’t let the other Wild Ones know his secret. At least not until he’s married to me and gains exemption that way.
“It’s Tomahawk,” Benson and I both say, only confusing everyone more.
“Unless your profession is as manly as they get, you keep your fucking mouth shut,” Benson grumbles. “And I’m not an heir. I’m a shareholder in the family business that our mother started and turned into an empire. We’re proud of her.”
His mother beams, and I realize insulting the body wash empire would be devastatingly disrespectful.
“I love the way he smells,” I say with a shrug. “But the other Wild Ones would never leave him be.”
She nods determinedly, still rolling with the punches. I really like her.
“What’s a Wild One?” Sadie asks, her eyes on me.
My lips curl into a dark grin. “We usually like blowing things up. Or hunting, because we’re the best shots on the lake. Or fighting, because that’s our favorite form of communication. Or we find something randomly dangerous to do when we’re bored. In short, we’re fucking crazy, sometimes dangerous, and worst…very unpredictable.”
I wink at her, and she swallows hard.
Benson’s arm slides around my waist, and he kisses the top of my head.
“I can’t believe I never knew this town had so much excitement,” Benson’s mother says, her eyes alight with interest. “Let’s go get changed for this fish fry,” she adds, clapping her hands together, then she purses her lips. “What’s a fish fry? And what does one wear to such a thing?”
I restrain a smile as Benson blows out a breath. He’s going to catch hell for having a mother who worries about what to wear to a fish fry.
“Let’s get in. I’ll break it down for you,” he tells her, still keeping me close.
“If it’s all the same to you,” Deacon starts, sidling up to Benson’s other side, “I think I’m going to come back in a few months and stay for a while. This town has piqued my interest.”
I look away, giving them the most privacy I can for this moment, since I’m pressed up against Benson’s side and he’s not letting me go.
I know the town isn’t the reason Deacon wants to stay, and I know on some level, Benson just remembered how much fun it is to have a brother. Considering they went against my brothers.
And won!
And they didn’t get blown up. Not that my brothers were actually trying to blow them up, but they were trying to blow enough water into the boat to rock their worlds.
They’re better aims than that, and if they wanted to blow something up, they would.
“Make sure you’re back before the end of fall,” Benson says with a shrug. “Once the snow sets in and the lake freezes, it’s hard to get out here. Impossible in that Mercedes you own. And if you’re going to be sticking around, lose the Mercedes. Trust me. You’ll never hear the end of it.”
I look back just as Deacon smiles and directs his attention to the ground. “Sounds like a good idea.”
His mother is watching them from the top when I look up, and she gives me a soft, somewhat appreciative smile that I don’t understand.
Deacon jogs up the steps ahead of us, kissing his mother on the top of her head, before he walks in.
She speaks just as we step in front of her.
“Care if I have a word with Lilah in private?” she asks Benson.
He looks to me for permission, and I shrug. I have no idea what she wants to say to me, but…I figure she may be worried for her son’s health. My brothers did just throw pipe bombs at him.
Somehow I don’t think telling her they weren’t actually trying to kill him will mean very much to her.
“I’ll go get out of my wet clothes,” Benson says, looking at me again. “Hurry up and join me.”
I flash a grin, then remember his mother probably isn’t used to such insinuations. I forget how normal people behave and all that.
She’s blushing when I look back at her, and Benson walks off, leaving us to speak.
“Fish fries are very casual. If you have jeans, I’d wear them. And a T-shirt. Boots are the best for any event around here. Bugs are vicious,” I say, babbling.
It occurs to me that I’ve never spoken to a guy’s mother. At least not a guy I was getting wild with.
Her gaze drops to my combat boots, and she smiles as she looks back up to me.
“Thank you.”
My eyebrows go up.
“No problem,” I say with a shrug. “Never dress up, and you’ll fit in around here anywhere you go.”
Her smile broadens. “I meant, thank you for what you did for my sons. Benson doesn’t even question your loyalty to him. He let his brother come see you. Alone. Because even though he’d hurt you, he knew without a doubt you’d never cross that line just to hurt him back. Because of you, my sons are speaking—actually speaking with smiles on their faces—for the first time in nine years.”
She takes a deep breath as I try to figure out what to say.
“So thank you,” she says again.
“Deacon was legit trying to mend things between them and never tried anything when he came to talk to me. And besides, Benson knows I’d have shot him if he had tried anything,” I say casually, then realize, once again, that’s not a response for a normal person.
She laughs under her breath.
“With a BB,” I amend, as though that makes it all better.
She sighs long and hard. “I complicated their lives by marrying John. I never had a clue it could go so wrong for them. And Sadie…” She lets the words trail off as she looks back at me. “It took one girl to tear them apart, and it took one woman to bring them back
together.”
She touches my shoulder, gently clasping it.
“Now, do you have some boots I can borrow?” She eyes my waist, and I eye her very elegant trousers. “And some jeans?”
To this, I laugh.
“Let’s steal Benson’s boat. I have an entire wardrobe. Pants might be short, but the boots will cover that. But hurry. Because Benson hates it when I steal his boat.”
Her grin spreads so wide that it has to hurt.
“We’ll make one quick stop by the Malones. I owe them for the paintballs, and I really, really want to try out that water cannon,” I add.
Her laughter pours out as she quickly follows me down the steps.
I have to help her onto the boat, then I start willing the lift to work quicker as it slowly lowers us into the water.
Just as I get the boat pushed away from the dock and rev the motor, Benson comes running out, his eyes wide and horrified when he sees his mother in the boat with me.
I turn up the radio, blowing him a kiss, as the telling music plays.
I mean…the song couldn’t have better timing.
“I love you, Benson Nolans!” I shout, which only gives him one minute of pause where his smile breaks across his face.
“Gotta break it loose, gonna keep it movin’ wild, gonna keep it swinging, baby, I’m a real wild child.”
The smile fades quickly as reality sinks back in and the song playing finally registers. He starts yelling, panicking, as I laugh manically and gas it across the lake. My brothers hear the song playing and race toward the end of my aunt’s dock as I swing it sideways, getting just close enough. Absently I hear the squeal from Benson’s mom as we rock hard in the water from the harsh turn.
They’re just in their boxers, grinning hugely as they race toward us. “You boys want to shoot a water cannon?” I call out.
“Hell yeah!” they shout.
They leap into the boat, and poor Benson’s mother’s eyes widen when she sees how they’re dressed.
“Hi, Mrs. Benson’s Mom,” Hale and Killian both say, working their way around the boat as I gas it again.
Benson is still yelling at us from across the lake as I crank the volume up louder. My brothers howl into the air like wolves as we take the bend, moving faster up the lake.
I love this boat. It’s so much faster than mine.
I glance back, seeing his mother smiling now as she relaxes, and I return my attention ahead. The song starts over, and I smile bigger, realizing it really is fate. The town only plays this song on repeat when they think the Wild Ones have been too quiet.
The beaver flag is flying high in the distance, letting me know we’re about to get exactly what I want. Malones love their fishing days.
“Mount up, boys! Payback time!” I yell over the sound of the loud motor and whirring wind.
Hale and Killian both man the water cannon, sharing in this moment, as I round the last corner. The Malones are all out on their dock, predictably fishing, completely unaware of what’s coming, until suddenly they’re being blasted.
Kylie screeches, diving away from her fishing pole, laughing uncontrollably when she sees it’s me. She takes cover as her cousins and father start falling into the lake, and I loop around, coming back as more Malones start racing toward the dock, fully armed with their trusty paintball guns.
I’m laughing with my brothers as they swivel the cannon and make another pass, blasting them before those weak little things can make it to us.
I look back at Benson’s Mom, realizing not all the paintballs missed us as I drive like a hellion back toward our corner. There’s a yellow splatter on her shoulder, and her eyes are wide as she gawks at me, her hair whipping wildly in the wind.
She’s clutching her arm underneath where she took the hit. No doubt that’ll bruise. But battle wounds just mean you’ve seen the real town. And raised a little hell.
“Welcome to Tomahawk!” I shout, pausing for my brothers to howl again. “Home of the Wild Ones!”
Epilogue
Wild Ones Tip #3
You can’t tame a Wild One. You just have to go wild.
One week later…
LILAH
Benson’s body moves over mine as he pulls my leg up, getting a better angle as my back arches off the bed. He drives into me over and over, and I claw at his shoulders, panting for air as he picks up the rhythm.
I’m moaning when we hear the loud sirens howling in the distance. Benson doesn’t stop, and I try to ignore the sound.
He comes down on top of me, his mouth sealing over mine, and the swirl of his hips is what does it to me in the end. I cry out, breaking the kiss, and Benson follows right behind me, shuddering as he groans into the crook of my neck.
Still on a high, I hear the sirens wailing relentlessly.
“We have to go,” I say, almost breathless.
“What? Why?”
“Sirens.”
He curses as he pulls out of me, and I rush to the bathroom to clean up. He’s already stabbing his legs into his pants when I come back out.
“I’ve heard those sirens a total of twenty times since I’ve lived here and never had to go to one of those meetings before,” he grumbles, and I grin as I quickly dress, pulling my hair up too.
“You were never with one of the four corners before. Something tells me this is about you.”
“Me?” he asks, his face paling as he hurriedly pulls on a shirt. “Why me?”
“It was your boat that hit the Malones last week.”
“You stole the boat! With my mother onboard! Now, despite the fact she was bruised and slightly terrified, she can’t wait to come back. She’s coming two more times this year. We may even do Christmas here, for fuck’s sake, if they can get someone to chopper them in.”
His mom totally thinks I’m awesome. I’d fist bump myself if it wouldn’t be weird.
My smile only grows, and he follows me down the stairs, both of us rushing toward the dock. I hop down to the boat first, taking the helm.
He lifts me out of the driver’s seat—expectedly—and deposits me to the seat next to him as he cranks the boat and gasses us toward town. I stand and move behind him, wrapping my arms around his neck as my lips trail up the soft beard that he keeps tamed.
“I love you,” I tell him, sounding all sweet and stuff.
“You’re still not driving my boat ever again.”
Yeah, he hides the keys these days.
“But you love me too,” I remind him.
I feel his smile. “Yeah. I do.” But as he parks the boat near one of the town docks, he turns to roll his eyes at me. “You’re still not driving my boat.”
I mock a pout, and he bends, kissing my lips as his fingers thread through my hair. The boat bumps the dock, reminding us to tie off.
We each tie off an end, and I haul myself onto the shorter dock with ease. Ours have to be higher than the town limits, because of flooding issues.
Our fingers lace together as we walk toward the town hall where the skull-and-crossbones flag is flying high, something you rarely ever see unless there’s an emergency.
Just as we walk in, Benson’s breath rushes out. He looks around as if in awe.
“What?” I ask, tugging him toward our section.
His feet hesitate before he finally starts moving, his eyes still shifting around the room.
“I’ve never seen so many in one place before.”
I laugh under my breath. “Because the Wild Ones aren’t allowed to be together in one place unless there are special circumstances or sanctioned events. But when those sirens sound and that flag flies…you don’t resist the call of the wild.”
I wink, and he rolls his eyes, getting over his momentary awe state as we take a seat in my section.
Vick, our poor, lone officer, stands behind the podium, banging the gavel to get our attention.
“I’ll keep this brief,” he says as my brothers quickly join us, sitting down beside me, “since you al
l can’t be together too long without mayhem quickly following. The troopers are coming into town in a few weeks.”
Everyone groans, and he bangs the gavel again.
“We know this happens every summer. You get too rowdy, vacationers cause a fuss, and before you know it, the troopers drop in. It’s rarely ever the same ones twice, because, let’s face it, you run them off real good. But remember the rules: don’t be seen, and don’t get caught doing anything illegal. Make them go away without alerting them to the way our town works. Otherwise, we’ll never get rid of them, and no one wants that.”
He clears his throat. Considering he’s the local pot distributor, he’s always worried about trooper season.
Don’t judge. You know by now we aren’t conventional.
None of the locals like troopers. It interferes with our not-always-lawful way of life. In Tomahawk, you make money the best way you can. We do things a little under the government’s radar. Nothing harder than pot allowed in town. Business licenses are iffy at best. And you might find a few unlicensed moonshine distilleries up and down the lake too.
Though it’s legal to have pot in Washington…I’m almost positive it’s not legal to grow it. And we don’t exactly have dispensaries where taxes get a big cut. We have Vick.
Troopers make life hard for about a week. Two weeks has been the record.
“Who wants to start the pool?” Eric Malone asks.
“Two days!” someone shouts.
“One week,” I say, waving a ten in the air.
“You can arrange the pool via internet. Not in here,” Vick interrupts, and I lower my ten as Benson grins.
“Now onto the matter of the Vincents.”
His eyes cut toward us, and Benson stiffens.
Hale stands, smoothing his hair back as he flashes a smile at us. His gaze returns to Vick.
“You sure you want to do this?” Vick asks.
“He does have a water cannon,” Killian says as he stands next to Hale.
Benson goes stiffer, and I bounce in my seat with excitement.
“Benson Nolans,” Vick starts, looking around at everyone else, “has apparently gone wild.”
Wolf howls erupt around the room, and Benson mutters a curse under his breath. He’s now officially among the Wild Ones, which means he’ll be getting hit with paintballs, and various other things.
