Wilder (The Wild Ones Book 3)

by C. M. Owens

  “Feel like paying a trip out to the squirrelly side of the lake tomorrow morning?” Hale asks, though most of his attention is on Reese.

  “I’ll meet you at the bridge,” I tell him in agreement.

  “You’re still going to kill them?” Piper asks on a gasp as she clutches my shirt in a panic. “Don’t kill people over moonshine, Kai! That’s excessive!”

  “Fuck me running,” I say on a long exhale, shaking my head.

  Both girls break out into a fit of giggles.

  “She said killing them is excessive,” Reese says through her guffaws.

  “It is!” Piper crows very loudly.

  I carefully sit her up in my chair, and I wrap a blanket around her, as I glance over at the coffee stand.

  “You go get them something to eat. I’ll grab them some coffee,” I tell Hale as he gets Reese situated next to Piper.

  We both take off to handle our tasks, and I keep checking behind me, wishing the crowd would thin so I could see her from here. Ma is surely watching after them by now.

  Or Krysta. Krysta is good with drunk chicks.

  Fucking Porter and Tate.

  Just as I finally make it to the front of the line and get my two coffees, I hear, “Testing. Testing. One, two, three. Testing. Is this thing on? Can you hear us? Are we allowed to sing karaoke right now?”

  My head snaps around, and I almost trip over my own feet as my eyes widen on the stage.

  Piper is tapping a microphone, and Reese is snorting while holding her hand over her mouth. Everyone is staring directly at them. Son. Of. A. Bitch.

  “Uh-oh,” Hale says from beside me with two burgers in his hands.

  The girls put their fingers together and start making pinching motions, as they begin singing into the microphone.

  “Baby shark, doo doo, doo doo, doo doo. Baby shark doo doo, doo doo, doo doo.”

  “What am I watching?” I ask Hale as they giggle, sing, and giggle some more.

  “Two drunk chicks who think they’re still doing karaoke…is my best guess,” he deadpans.

  “Momma shark…”

  Slowly, as if some people know this ridiculous fucking song, they start singing along with them, making different pinching motions right along with them.

  “What am I watching?” I ask again.

  “A drunk crowd who thinks this is a sing-along…is my best guess,” he answers with zero emotion.

  Suddenly, he starts singing along too as he dances his way toward the stage, weaving through the crowd that is getting rowdier and rowdier as they sing along.

  Great. Now all of Tomahawk is going to love her. I was doing good to scare every motherfucker off.

  Even though I’m trying to keep things casual and less intense, I still don’t want to share her with the whole damn town full of dicks who are just waiting on me to crash and burn so I’ll get out of the way. If this town even thinks I’ve given up on her, she’ll have a thousand fucking more desserts showing up at her door.

  I personally delivered all the empty dishes to the diner’s lost-and-found box. I keep checking in to see who they all belong to. No one has claimed them yet.

  Cowards.

  They start the song over, and the rest of the crowd gets into it, as Nila loses the axe-throwing competition to the axe-throwing king once again.

  It only gets louder and louder, until the entire crowd has caught on, and people lift their drinks high in the air as if to toast them, as the singing continues.

  My lips twist with the beginnings of a grin when I see the bright smile on Piper’s face, while she really gets into belting out the lyrics with a voice that…isn’t even a little bit angelic. It’s the effort that counts with this lot.

  Reese is right beside her, the two of them locking arms around each other’s shoulders, as people lift lighters in the air and sway from side to side like this has turned into Woodstock.

  I trash the coffees, since they’re rapidly getting cold and will be disgusting by the time this show is allowed to end. Everyone cries out for an encore, and the girls start all over again.

  After about three more encores, Hale retrieves Reese, and I go to drag Piper off the stage. She comes willingly, practically leaping into my arms.

  Lenny Nickel gets on stage, picking up where they left off, cashing in on the momentum and a chance for attention.

  However, instead of cheers and sing-alongs, he gets booed and starts getting trash thrown at him.

  I’m in the middle of laughing at him cursing and flipping off the entire town, when Piper surprises me.

  It happens so fast that I can’t stop it. Her lips forcefully press to mine, and her fingers tangle in my hair as she winds her legs around my waist.

  Catcalls and whistles sound out over the groans, and I hold her to me as I kiss her back, drinking her in, even though I made a promise to myself that I wouldn’t go through this torture.

  I haven’t kissed her like this since I realized I’m not quite as fucking strong as I thought I was.

  With every ounce of nobility I can muster, I break the kiss, and my forehead presses to hers as I pant for air.

  “Stay with me tonight,” she whispers, arms circling around my neck.

  A tortured sound slips out of me, and my grip tightens as I hold her closer, barely resisting the urge to go back after her lips.

  “If I did that, I’d break some important rules. And you’re really fucking drunk,” I point out.

  Her arms tighten on me, and so do her legs, as I walk us toward my Jeep, electing to skip the fireworks and get her out of here. She looks like she’s about to pass out.

  Damn, I parked pretty far out to avoid the inevitable traffic jam.

  “I’m sorry I missed so much of the festival. We lost track of time. Don’t kill them,” she tells me as her lips brush mine again.

  Fuck. My. Night.

  I really wish I didn’t know right from wrong or my own weaknesses right now.

  It’d make fucking up a little easier to do.

  “I don’t really murder people, Piper. It’s a figure of speech.”

  She snorts. “I know. I mean don’t hurt them. Better?”

  “Come on. Let’s get you out of here,” I tell her instead of answering her drunken babble.

  “I like your beard,” she tells me, running her fingers through the right side of it.

  Fuck, I really shouldn’t be expected to be this damn good.

  I slow my steps, deciding to enjoy her touch at the very least, as I carry her down the street.

  She peers up just as the snow starts to slowly drift down on us, and she opens her smiling mouth, trying to eat flakes of it.

  Her eyes turn back to me after she catches a few, and she smiles again.

  “I missed you,” she tells me too suddenly for me to have a response at the ready.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  Why does she have to be drunk? We could at least enjoy one more time together…

  No. No. No.

  I already know that’s a bad idea. Ma’s two seconds away from planning our wedding as it is, and I couldn’t even enjoy a festival because I spent all my time watching for her.

  “You’re a problem for me,” I tell her as I finally reach my Jeep, putting her down.

  She leans into me, pushing her face against my chest, as her arms go around my waist to hug me.

  “You’re a problem for me too,” she murmurs, as I finally manage to get the door open and put her inside.

  After strapping her in, she pulls me to her, kissing me again before I can stop her. I give in for a brief moment, tasting her lips and her hunger. Her hands move to my jeans, undoing them on the spot, and…I finally remember she’s drunk.

  When I pull back, grabbing her hands to stop her, she chases my lips, as she bats her lashes with faux innocence.

  “Please stay the night?” she asks.

  I force her to let go of me, and I shut the door to massage my temples, as I walk around to my side of the Jeep
. I pace back and forth in front of my door for a second, biting down on my fist, as a frustrated sound gets mostly smothered.

  Finally, I jerk the door open to climb in, but spot Piper’s head awkwardly resting against the window as she lightly snores.

  Well, that’ll at least keep me from losing my damn mind.

  I drive us to her cabin, and carefully carry her inside, while she remains dead to the world. After grabbing some pajamas, I start to change her clothes, looking as little as possible so that it’s not creepy later on.

  Her hand limply comes up, but there’s a surprising amount of strength demonstrated when she grabs the back of my neck and jerks me down to her.

  Damn it.

  I’ve got her top half completely naked, and it’s a hell of a lot harder not to notice her nipples or the soft, firm curves of her breasts when they’re smashed against me.

  Her lips bump against mine, and she attacks like a starved animal. I’m a weak fucking asshole who kisses her back, coming down on top of her as I drink her in.

  Her hips lift and grind against me, and I groan against her mouth as I ignore the throbbing in my neglected cock. I can’t even touch her without wanting inside her. I damn sure don’t need to be kissing her and letting her twine her legs around my waist while she’s drunk.

  Just as I start trying to separate us, she goes limp, arms and legs falling to the side, as she passes back out. Yep. I’m a fucking creep.

  “Shit,” I groan as I hurriedly climb off her, mentally shaking myself as I quickly get her into her pajamas.

  She murmurs my name when I tuck her into the covers, and I sit on the edge of the bed for a minute, putting my head in my hands and my elbows on my knees.

  I can’t even have a damn fling with a pretty girl. What has happened to me? At one time, this would have been a cake walk. But now? Yeah, not anymore.

  It’d be easier if she wasn’t so laidback and easy to be around. It’d be easier if she didn’t enjoy being around me so much. It’d certainly be easier if she’d stop mumbling my name in her sleep.

  Cursing, I stand and run a hand through my hair, walk out of her room, and strip down to my boxers. As I drop to the couch and pull a cover over me, I stare up at the ceiling.

  At least I have even less in common with my old man these days. He couldn’t seem to get attached to anything but himself, and never bothered to think about anyone else.

  It’s not going to be easy to let Piper return to her own world.

  It’s better for both of us if we play it cool until the end.

  Wild Ones Tip #635

  We never let you forget the things you want to forget. No mercy.

  Chapter 16

  PIPER

  *******

  Groaning, I sit up, hearing the sound of sizzling and the smell of food blanketing the air.

  My head pounds to remind me of the drinking contest we never should have agreed to. Damn Tate and Porter. They really can talk someone into anything.

  My willpower is weak.

  Something clangs in the kitchen, and I idly remember begging Kai to sleep over. Judging by the state of the bed, I’m the only one who slept in it. My lips curve in a grin when I think back to kissing him.

  Lifting my hand to my lips, my mind flits back to the soft brush of his lips, and the tortured sounds he made.

  Damn, he confuses my head so much. I should be smart and put distance between us, but I’d rather have him kissing me like that again. I feel wishy-washy, because I consistently think one thing but feel another. It’s exhausting.

  My smile falls quickly when I also remember singing that damn shark song in front of the entire town.

  I whimper as I cover my face with both my hands, and I try not to dwell too long. It’s not like we have long left in Tomahawk. Our trip’s been slimmed down to a measly couple of weeks, due to Dad’s scandalous affairs coming to light…that needs a lot of PR attention.

  We’ll have to go on tours, smile pretty for cameras, talk about how strong our family is, and yada yada yada. It’ll consume our lives for the next six months before the election.

  I drop back down to the bed, covering my face with one arm. One day, he’ll learn he can’t hide anything from the press and he’ll keep his dick out of women who have no discretion.

  Yes, my mother knows.

  No, it’s not a big deal to either one of them.

  But…it’s a big deal to everyone else who doesn’t understand their don’t-talk-about-it sort of marriage.

  This is a nightmare.

  I whimper while covering my face with my arm. Why do we have to dedicate so much of our lives to this shit if Dad can’t even keep his dick in his pants for his own dream?

  Right before we plan our website launch, our name is being dragged through the mud alongside his.

  Two weeks…

  We get two more weeks before we have to move back into the spotlight and deal with this. For now, our family is taking a quick breather, letting the heat die down.

  In other words, we’re hiding from the rest of the world.

  Now I remember why we caved and got wasted on moonshine. Our constant family drama could turn a saint into an alcoholic.

  The last thing Kai needs is to be linked to me. If anyone looked into him in hopes of slinging more dirt on the family, they’d learn he’s an underground pot grower.

  Not that they’d ever find me in Tomahawk. It’s easy peasy to hide out here.

  Deciding not to waste what’s left of my vacation worrying about it, I get out of bed, smiling down at the pajamas I couldn’t have possibly dressed myself in.

  I find Kai tucked away in the small kitchen area, pancakes flipping in the air, as he hums a familiar song. My smile falls immediately, as he turns and grins over his shoulder, still humming the Baby Shark song.

  “I’d like to forget that ever happened,” I inform him with as much dignity as I can muster.

  His lips twitch as he turns around, dumping a pancake onto the plate that is stacked high with a lot more. I’ve never been served breakfast by a guy.

  It takes me a second to realize all the pancakes…are shaped like sharks.

  “How in the hell did you do that?” I ask on a sigh, as he smiles once again and begins humming, shrugging a shoulder as though it’s not a big deal.

  “Hurry up and eat,” he says instead of answering as he starts turning off everything and tidying up his minimal mess. “We’re going to town. I’ll be back to pick you up after I take care of some things at my place.”

  My smile only grows when I spot the layout of syrup and other things he’s gathered for me on a tray. Was he going to serve me breakfast in bed?

  “Thank you for—”

  The door shuts, and my head snaps up to see I’m all alone in my cabin. In the next instant, I hear the Jeep cranking. Did he even put on his coat?

  He’s an abrupt sort of guy, so I’m not even surprised anymore when he bails without much warning.

  After I eat, and hurriedly shower and dress, Kai returns as though he timed it to be the second I finished up.

  I head out to meet him, finding him a little quieter and possibly more distant than usual. It’s this far-away look in his eyes that’s confusing me.

  “Everything okay?” I ask as he drives me toward town, since he hasn’t said a word.

  He blinks, and that easy grin moves across his face as though I was worried for nothing.

  “I think I’m the one who should be asking you that question. Everything okay back home?” he asks me.

  I grimace. “Just a load of family drama I won’t bother you with.”

  “I’d like to be bothered. You’ve got my Ma begging you to rent your womb out, so I think it’s obvious I’m not going to judge,” he says with a shrug of his shoulder.

  I don’t know what happens, but suddenly I word vomit the entire ordeal to him, giving him a blow-by-blow of my father’s stupidity, my family’s history, and all the dark corners.

  This
is why it’s dangerous for me to be even a little bit vulnerable.

  His facial expression never changes as he patiently listens to me upchuck it all, and I sigh as the weight on my chest starts to subside.

  “So yeah. I’ll be in Tomahawk another two weeks, only now it’s to lie low. It’s probably best if you don’t hang around me too much, just in case we’re tracked down here by the sharks who already smell blood in the water,” I prattle on. “Considering the pot farm and all.”

  His lips twist in a wry grin. “Don’t worry about me,” he says, not understanding how severely screwed he’d be if these hellhounds came to Tomahawk.

  “I don’t think you understand the severity of the situation and how very real the problems could—”

  “Tomahawk isn’t on anyone’s radar. If they track you down, we’ll do like we do with Liam and forget your name. Folks in town don’t like much attention on the town. You think I’m the only one doing something wrong?” he muses. “Our town wouldn’t exist if we played by the rules. It’d be rundown, broken, and full of depressed people. It’d stop being family if we weren’t all covering each other’s asses. You don’t make it in this town if you don’t act like family.”

  I don’t particularly know what family means to him. Cover-ups mean something different to my family. Expectations are higher and unreasonable. Lies are abundant. Lines are blurred all over the place.

  Love is just a word spoken instead of represented.

  “Can I ask your definition of family?” I muse, dropping my head against the headrest, not bothering to argue with him.

  If reporters come, I won’t hide. I’ll simply leave.

  They’re not going to dig too deep if they think I’m just hiding and killing time here, yet able to take off on a whim without looking back.

  We plan around disasters. Story of our lives.

  He gives me side-eye, eyebrows arching, and glances back at the road.

  “I guess it’s different for everyone. Ma raised us to be able to say what’s on our mind, so long as it’s coming from a good place. We know each other too well, see each other’s flaws, and simply have an understanding of how everyone thinks and works.”