Trip raised a brow.
“All right, turns out being alone in the house might not be that good for me. You know, I didn’t get dressed for four days while finishing the latest book. Didn’t shower either.”
This didn’t surprise Trip. His dad had tunnel vision when writing on a project that was going well. When it wasn’t, Vance would be tearing down walls and adding an addition onto the house or building a greenhouse he never used. Trip used it instead, finding solace in planting his own vegetables, herbs, and more than a few flowers. It helped him compartmentalize the horrors he witnessed while on the job.
“Figured it was time to venture out of the cave, and it’s been a while since I’ve seen you.”
“So, nothing wrong with your health?”
Vance sat back in his seat, affronted. “Do I look sick to you?”
“No.” He looked the same as always, tough, formidable, and stubborn. “You look good. A shower and change of clothes becomes you.”
“Smart ass,” Vance said affectionately. He glanced over toward the dance floor. “Wow, is that Zoe Wilde? Damn, hasn’t she grown into a fine lookin’ woman?”
Trip swiveled around so fast that he almost gave himself whiplash.
Sure enough, there she was dancing cheek to cheek with Derek Waterman. Derek held her close to him with a familiarity that grated on Trip. Derek’s hands were placed much too low on her backside—forget backside, they were cupping her ass.
That was his ass to cup.
Ah, hell. No, it wasn’t. What had he been telling himself the last week? Hands off.
The skimpy dress she wore didn’t leave much to the imagination. Though—thank God—it covered more of her than the graphic novel stripper outfit had. The flirty skirt ended inches above her knees, showcasing her long, gorgeous legs—legs that had been wrapped around his hips last weekend. Her long, auburn hair rained down her back in loose, silky waves, and he badly wanted to bury his hands in it, spread her hair over his pillow.
Shit, he couldn’t keep having these thoughts. Neither could he tear his eyes away from her. It didn’t seem to matter what he told himself, Zoe Wilde hadn’t left his thoughts since he’d been buried deep inside her, experiencing the hottest sex of his life.
Derek leaned down and whispered something into her ear that had her tossing her head back with a seductive laugh. She gazed up at him with a look that had Trip’s guts clenching in protest. It was obvious that she cared for him, a lot.
Goddamn it, he wanted her looking at him like that.
Before he knew what he was doing, he was on his feet, striding toward them. He thought he heard his dad chuckle but disregarded it. He was on a mission. A mission of what, he had no clue, just that he had to get Zoe away from Derek Waterman.
He tapped Derek’s shoulder. “I’m cutting in.”
“Excuse me?” Derek asked.
“You heard me,” he said through tight lips.
“Trip, what are you doing?” Zoe whispered, her eyes wide and disbelieving.
“We need to talk.”
“We talked.”
“Dance with me, or you’re going to cause a scene.”
“I’m not the one causing a scene,” she hissed, glancing around the pub. “You are.”
Sure enough, they’d garnered an audience. “I’ll cause a bigger one if you don’t dance with me or leave with me right now.”
“Listen, dude,” Derek said. “She’s with me.”
“What? Like you two are together?” The woman he’d been with the other night wasn’t in a serious relationship. Zoe wasn’t the type to string more than one man along at a time. “Forgive me, but I have trouble believing you two are dating.”
“We’re more than dating,” Derek said, getting into Trip’s face. “We love each other.”
“The hell you do.” He didn’t know why he did it, but he grabbed Zoe’s arm and pulled her away from Derek. “We’re sleeping together.”
A hush fell over the room, and everything went into slow motion. Trip saw Avery Dawson rushing toward them from behind the bar at the same moment he caught sight of Ryder and Dare stalking their direction. Ryder, slower, maneuvered on crutches due to a broken leg he’d received when a log had fallen on him during a recent house fire.
Oh shit. How far had his words traveled? Dare grabbed him first, but it was Ryder’s fist that connected.
Apparently, they’d traveled far enough.
Pain radiated through his jaw. He worked his mouth side to side, hoping Ryder’s sledgehammer fist hadn’t broken it.
Avery jumped between the Wilde twins and him. “Not in my pub. And, Ryder, you just assaulted an officer.”
“He violated the bro code,” Dare snarled. He looked from a horrified Zoe to repentant Trip.
I did more than that. I violated your baby sister.
Trip knew that the truth and regret showed on his face. He didn’t attempt to block the next punch, this one from Dare, landing square in his solar plex, doubling him over and stealing his breath.
“Take it outside,” Avery barked. “I won’t have you destroying my bar.”
“Enough!” Zoe yelled. “You will not be fighting over me. You—” she pointed at Trip “—are out of line.” Next, she faced her brothers down. “And you two barbarians, I don’t need you defending my honor.”
“It sure as hell looks like you do,” Ryder fired back.
“Do I go around beating up the women you sleep with? No, I don’t. I don’t care who you sleep with. What happened between Trip and me is no one’s business but ours. Damn it, I’m not some little woman that needs a man watching out for her.”
“The hell you don’t,” Dare said, pushing at Trip’s shoulder. “He has no right to touch you.”
“Get this through your thick head. I was the one who instigated it, okay?” Zoe said, standing in front of Trip as though protecting him and pushing Dare back. “You want to blame someone, blame me. I violated your ridiculous bro code.”
“Zoe,” Trip growled. Taking her by the shoulders, he picked her up and set her out of harm’s reach. “This is between Ryder, Dare, and me.”
“You’re kidding. You had sex with me, not them.”
Derek laughed, then tried covering the sound with a cough. He stood by watching the proceedings as though he were at the theater. Trip caught his dad striding over out of the corner of his eye.
Ah, hell. How had this gotten so out of hand? He’d just wanted Derek’s hands off her, wanted to talk to her, make things right between them again.
That wasn’t all he wanted. He wanted her again. From the moment he’d seen her, he wanted it to be him she danced with, him holding her close, him whispering things into her ear that made her laugh so carefree.
“All right, everyone,” Vance commanded the room with his booming cop voice. “Dawson has asked you to take it outside. You want to beat Trip up for having consensual sex with your sister, who is of age I might add, that’s up to you. But you won’t be doing it in here. Zoe, I think it’s best if you come with me and let these three work it out.” He took Zoe by the arm and led her over to the booth he’d vacated, leaving Ryder and Dare facing Trip.
Avery pointed to the door, and the three of them marched out like wayward children sent to time out.
The midnight sun shone bright and cheery on them even though it was after nine in the evening.
“Give me a sec,” Trip said to Zoe’s two brothers, marching toward his squad car and unlocking the trunk. Dare followed a few paces behind, Ryder a few more paces behind his brother since the crutches encumbered his movements.
Trip unbuckled his duty belt, took off the mic clipped to his shoulder, and then unbuttoned the uniform shirt, leaving him in a white undershirt. He secured the items in the trunk, deposited the keys in his pocket, and turned to face them.
“Let me have it. I deserve it and more.” He waited for the next punch to come, frowning when neither brother made a move.
“So, what? You’re just going to s
tand there and let us wail on you?” Dare asked, his expression comical.
“Yep.”
“There’s no sport in that,” Ryder said.
“This isn’t sport. It’s what I have coming to me. I had sex with your sister. I never should have done it, never should have touched her.”
“Why did you do it then?” Dare asked.
He couldn’t tell them that he’d forcefully carried her out of Ticker Tavern after catching her stripping on stage. He’d done enough damage for one night—hell, this week.
“Zoe is—” God, how did he tell them how he felt about her when he didn’t know himself? “She’s—”
“A temptress,” Ryder finished for him.
He was glad he didn’t say it. “She’s more than that. She’s—” He tried again. This time Dare finished his sentence.
“A Wild Card.”
“True. Your dad nailed that nickname, but even more. She’s…unforgettable,” he finished.
“Unforgettable?” Ryder and Dare echoed.
“What are you saying?” Dare asked. “Are you serious about her? Because sleeping with her is damn serious.”
“I don’t know what I am. Geez, guys, it just happened. Neither of us meant it to.”
“She’s always been sweet on you,” Ryder said. “If you break her heart, you’re a dead man.”
“I’d be more concerned that his heart might get broken,” Dare said under his breath to Ryder.
“True enough,” Ryder said. “I still think we need to kick his ass on principle.”
“I agree,” Trip said, bracing his legs.
“You want us to kick your ass?” Ryder asked, confused.
“Please.”
“Well, shit.” Dare threw his hands up in the air. “We can’t now that you want us to. That defeats the purpose.”
“Come on, guys. I deserve it and more. I wish—” He was about to say he wished he hadn’t touched her, but he’d be lying not only to himself but to his best friends. “How do I make it up to you?”
“Well, that’s going to take a lot of drinking,” Ryder said. “But from what we witnessed in there, Zoe is who you really need to make it up to.”
“What the hell did you do to have her turning on you?” Dare asked. “She used to think the sun rose and set with you.”
“I said I was sorry one too many times,” he mumbled. That had to be it.
“Ahh,” they both parroted.
Trip used to think it was freaky how they spoke the same thing at the same time, but over the years he’d gotten used to them thinking as one.
“No woman wants to hear that you’re sorry just after you had sex with her,” Dare pointed out.
“Believe me, I figured that much out. Any idea how I get her to talk to me?”
“Asking us for advice on how to get back in Zoe’s good graces after we just learned you slept with her probably isn’t the best way to go,” Ryder said.
“How about I buy a few rounds?”
“It’s a start,” Dare said. “But it will have to be another night. Brey’s in town, and we stopped here for pizza to take back for dinner with him and Dad.”
“Are you sure I can’t talk you into hitting me again?” Hurting physically would hopefully alleviate some of the guilt riding piggyback since that night.
“What the hell.” Ryder let his fist fly.
Chapter 8
Zoe let Vance Hunter lead her to his booth. Derek had given her a thumbs up and left her to deal with the mess he’d created. So much for a fairy godmother. Cinderella never had problems like this.
“What did that fool son of mine do?” Vance asked.
“Mr. Hunter—”
“Vance, please. I’ve known you all your life.”
She didn’t feel comfortable calling him Vance. “Listen, it doesn’t feel right talking to you about what happened between Trip and me.”
“Why not? All of Heartbreak will probably know by morning.”
Damn Heart to Heart Network. He was right, which meant her dad would soon know too. Double damn.
“Tell me what my son did, and I’ll make sure he fixes it.”
“In all due respect, I can’t get into it with you or anyone but Trip. It wouldn’t be fair to him.”
“Sounds like he wasn’t fair with you.”
“Mr.—Vance, please stay out of it. I’m a big girl. I can handle my own affairs.” Shit, why had she said affairs? She stood to leave. “I really need to go.”
“Do you need a ride?” Vance stood like a gentleman when she did.
“No. But thank you.” She turned to locate Derek and came up against Trip.
“I’ll take you home,” Trip said, bracketing her arm with an unbreakable grip.
“That’s not necessary,” she said through thin lips, and then narrowed her eyes. “What happened to your eye?”
“Ryder. And you’re coming with me whether you like it or not. I’ll talk to you later, Dad.”
When they were out of earshot of his father, Zoe said, “I came with Derek, and I’m going home with him.”
“He’s already left. If you’re dating him, he isn’t very loyal.”
“That isn’t true. He’s the most loyal friend I have.”
“Friend, is he?” Trip raised a brow.
“Boyfriend,” she stressed through gritted teeth.
“Not for long,” he said under his breath and then continued, “I informed Derek that I would see you home. He winked at me, so I believe he’s okay with the arrangement.”
She couldn’t do anything but let him lead her outside unless she wanted to cause another scene. Actually, her leaving with Trip would have tongues wagging faster after what they’d witnessed earlier.
Trip walked her over to his squad car and opened the door for her. She didn’t get in, just stood there. “Seriously, you’re putting me in a cop car?”
“Keep arguing with me, and I’ll put you in the back.”
By the set of his jaw, she believed he would try. She glanced around the parking lot—no sign of her brothers. They’d abandoned her too. What was it with the men in her life? Overbearing when she didn’t want them to be and then nowhere in sight when she could have used them.
“Zoe,” Trip warned.
“Fine,” she muttered, getting in. He shut the door and walked around to the driver’s side. Part of her wanted to make a dash for it, but what would be the point? He’d just manhandle her back into the car, and that hadn’t worked too well for her the last time he did that.
Trip started the vehicle and then drove away from the Pump House. Instead of turning left at the stop sign, he turned right.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“Somewhere we can talk.”
“I’m not going to your place.” It was bad enough she was alone with him in a car, no way could she be alone with him at his house.
“I’m not taking you to my place.”
And he obviously wasn’t going to tell her where he was taking her either. Fine, let him be that way. She folded her arms across her chest and sat there without saying a word.
They drove in silence. He directed the car up the steep incline to Heartbreak Ridge, pulling onto Lover’s Lane and finally parking at the overlook.
The lookout on Lover’s Lane was the town’s teenage make out spot. It was currently empty, except for them, and no one would dare park there when they saw the Alaska State Trooper squad car.
“Did you bring me up here to make out?” she taunted.
“You don’t ever stop, do you?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. Opening his door, he grabbed his jacket and got out. She watched him walk around the hood, marveling over the graceful way he moved. How did a man packed with so much muscle move so light on his feet?
He opened her door and reached out a hand to help her. She climbed out, not taking the hand he offered, but then wobbled in her high heels on the uneven ground. He grabbed her arm, steadying her. Without releasing her, he guided he
r to the trail that lead to a large rock outcropping. From there they could see the whole Heartbreak Valley with the town nestled at the banks of Mistress Lake. The houses looked like colorful jewels in the evening sun, the lake a deep blue and mirroring the puffy white clouds overhead, and the countless shades of green from the lush forests sprinkled with meadows of wildflowers.
This was why she never wanted to leave this place. The splendor of Alaska inspired her creativity, fed her soul. In all seasons, there was beauty to be found and marvel over.
Next to the large stone cropping—that the kids nicknamed erection point—a meadow sprawled blooming with buttercups, lupine, fireweed and multiple other wildflowers.
They stood there for a moment, taking in the view, the quiet. She realized he still had his hand on her arm. “You can let go of me now.”
“See, that’s the problem,” he said, his voice low and husky. “I don’t want to.”
She blinked up at him, meeting his eyes for the first time since they’d left the Pump House. His expression was pained, but she thought she saw yearning in the blue depths too.
“Listen, I’m sorry—” he started.
She interrupted, not wanting to hear him say it again, “Believe me, I know you’re sorry. You’ve said it enough times.”
“Would you let me finish?” He waited her out. Finally, she gave him a head tilt, not really a nod, but he took it as one. “Here, sit down.” He spread his jacket on the grass, taking her hand and helping her to sit.
With the short skirt, it was tricky. She knelt and then sat on her hip, her legs bent to the side. Trip plopped on the ground next to her, not seeming to care if his pants got dirty. But then, he wasn’t the type to worry over grass stains or dirt. She liked that about him.
She liked too much about him, which was a problem she needed to get over. She was done with this infatuation.
Trip picked a bluebell and twirled it between his fingers, then he handed it to her. Slowly she took it, touched, though she tried to stamp down the flare of feelings. Bringing the delicate flower up to her nose, she sniffed, before twirling it between her fingers like he had.
“Let me get this out,” Trip said. “I messed everything up the other night. No, don’t interrupt.” He stared long and hard at her, then tenderly reached up and stroked a length of her hair. “I like this much better than the wig, though you rocked that too.”
Wild Card (Alaska Wild Nights Book 4) Page 4
