A Little Bit Wicked (The Wickeds

by Melissa Foster

  “How come I’ve never heard anyone call her that?” Madigan asked.

  “Because I’m the bartender and I hear everything.” Ginger touched Madigan’s shoulder as she’d touched Chloe’s and said, “And you’re the baby sister who the men in our family would like to think knows nothing about the scandalous ways of men and women.”

  Madigan rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Well, it’s no wonder Justin is into you, Chloe. You’re gorgeous. Most of the guys in here were checking you out the second you walked in.”

  “They were not,” Chloe said, looking around quickly, although she was too sidetracked thinking about Justin’s brothers and cousins calling her Uptown Girl to think about anything else. She’d never felt out of Justin’s league. They just had different lifestyles.

  “They were checking you out, sugar,” Ginger said. “And that’s a good thing. Pretty young women like you two deserve to be checked out.” She pointed across the room to a handsome man with longish silver hair and a bright white smile talking with a group of people and said, “Now, if someone like that guy checks you out, then you’d better watch yourself. He’s a real flirt.”

  “That silver fox over there? Really? I guess if you’re that good-looking, it kind of comes with the territory,” Chloe said.

  Madigan burst into hysterics. “That’s my uncle Conroy! He never flirts with anyone but Aunt Ginger.”

  “Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry for calling your husband a silver fox!” Chloe covered her face.

  Ginger laughed and said, “Don’t be. Everyone checks him out, as well they should. That man is quite a looker, and he’s all mine. We tease a lot around here, but it’s all in good fun. You should come by more often. And for what it’s worth, my sons and my nephews have their heads stuck in their spokes, because Maverick is one of the finest and most honorable young men I know. Now, what can I get you to drink?”

  “After hearing what they call me, a bottle of tequila might be nice,” Chloe teased.

  “I hear ya on that,” Ginger said as her husband headed their way. “Are you driving tonight?”

  “Yes, but I was kidding about the tequila. Just an iced tea would be great, thank you,” Chloe said as Conroy Wicked stepped beside Madigan’s chair and dropped a kiss on her head. He was even more handsome up close, with deep dimples and blue eyes as bright as his smile.

  “How’re my girls?” Conroy asked.

  “Hi, Uncle Con,” Madigan said warmly. “This is my friend Chloe. She thinks you’re hot.”

  “Mads!” Chloe chided her, causing them to laugh. “I don’t think that! I mean, you’re a handsome man, but…” She was so screwed, and Conroy was grinning like this was not his first time at this rodeo, so she said, “Okay, she’s right. Your wife went fishing, and I took the bait. I’m sorry.”

  He kissed Ginger’s cheek and slid his arm around her waist. “That’s my girl, always toying with the customers.”

  “I was just welcoming her to the Hog,” Ginger said sweetly. “Do you have any idea who this gorgeous blonde is?”

  “Chloe. Mads just told me,” Conroy answered.

  Chloe stood up and extended her hand. “Hi, I’m Uptown Girl,” she said as he shook her hand. “You might have heard of me. Billy Joel wrote a song about me before I was even born.” She sat back down and said, “And for the record, I don’t think I’m out of anyone’s league.”

  Conroy laughed deeply and heartily. “You’re the gal who caught Maverick’s eye a long, long time ago. Well, this is a pleasure, Chloe. You have thrown that boy for a loop. And the nickname is all in good fun. You know, Mav’s quite a catch.”

  “I’m sure Justin has a lot of women tossing him their fishing lines,” Chloe said more casually than she felt.

  “All our Wicked boys do,” Conroy joked. “But Maverick’s not a catch-and-return type of guy.”

  “Do not try to set her up, Uncle Con,” Madigan said. “Chloe is here to discuss work, not to be on The Dating Game.”

  “Hey, I’m just an uncle bragging about my nephew. No harm in that.” Conroy chuckled and turned his attention to Ginger. “Any word from the boys?”

  “Not yet,” Ginger said. “How is Leah doing shadowing Starr?”

  “Is Leah the new waitress? I saw her with Starr when I first came in,” Madigan said.

  “Yes. She just started,” Conroy said. “Leah is fast and capable, and she’s friendly enough.” He gazed across the room at a skinnyish girl with a mass of thick, curly brownish-red hair and a wary look in her eyes. “She’s not warm, and the verdict is still out on if she can handle the guys here or not. But it’s only her first week, and she’s doing a really good job of learning the ropes.”

  “We’re a wild bunch, Con. It takes time to warm up to us,” Ginger said. “As long as she can hold her own and she’s fast and capable, it sounds like we’ll have a great employee. I’ll chat with her before she leaves tonight and see if I can help her feel more comfortable.” She turned back to Chloe and Madigan and said, “I’ve kept you girls waiting long enough. What are you hungry for?”

  “Nachos would be great.” Madigan looked at Chloe and said, “Are you hungry?”

  “No, thanks. I ate before I came.”

  Conroy frowned at Madigan and said, “Nachos aren’t dinner, Mads. How about a burger?”

  “How about Nachos with extra beef?” Madigan countered.

  “I’ll see what I can do.” Conroy winked, and then he lowered his voice, giving Ginger a smoldering look, and said, “Meet me in the kitchen for a quick make-out sesh?”

  “Uncle Conroy!” Madigan scolded, but her smile told Chloe she didn’t mind his playfulness.

  Conroy chuckled as he walked away.

  “He’s so bad,” Madigan said.

  “That he is, and boy, do I love that man. Even after all these years, he still makes my heart go pitter-patter.” Ginger sighed and said, “Everyone should be so lucky. I’ll bring your drink in a sec, Chloe.”

  As she walked away, Madigan called to her, “Stay out of the kitchen!”

  “You’re no fun,” Ginger said over her shoulder.

  Madigan flopped back in her chair and said, “I love them so much.”

  “They seem happy. You’re lucky to have so many relatives in the area. I’ve never met any of mine.”

  “None?”

  Chloe shook her head, but she didn’t want to talk about her weird upbringing, so she said, “We’re not here to talk about me. I’d love to hear your thoughts on puppetry and the elderly.”

  “I have lots of thoughts on that.” Madigan told her about the work she’d done with the elderly and what she’d learned. She explained the benefits of having residents create personal puppets, which would be good for their fine motor skills, and that encouraging the use of the puppets to create their own shows aided with social interaction and stimulated their brains. She told Chloe how the use of puppets could trigger memories and help break down communication barriers that went hand in hand with Alzheimer’s and dementia and that it was helpful for people who suffer from depression, too.

  They talked for a long time, noshing on nachos and joking as often as they were serious. Chloe explained that she was thinking of putting together a proposal for a trial program involving only a few residents and spanning a four-to-six-week period, just as she was doing with the Junior/Senior Program, and if it proved beneficial, then she would pitch a longer-term program.

  “Does that sound like something you’d be interested in?” Chloe asked.

  “Yes. Definitely.”

  “That’s great. Would you be willing to help me with the proposal? I want to be sure my terminology is correct and that I don’t miss any key elements.”

  “I’d love to.”

  They made plans to meet the following Tuesday at Chloe’s office, and Chloe explained all of the hoops Madigan would have to jump through in order to work at LOCAL, assuming the proposal was accepted.

  “I’m excited about what this program could do for
our residents,” Chloe said as she gathered her notes and began putting them into her messenger bag.

  “Me too.” Madigan eyed Chloe’s bag and said, “I see a red book cover. Is that Dirty Island Desires?”

  “Yes. I run a book club and we’re reading it. Have you read it? It hit all the bestseller lists.”

  “My book club is reading it, too! I bet they all are. It’s all over social media. I’m almost done with it, and oh my God, talk about hot!”

  “I know. It’s so good. What book club are you in?”

  “It’s online, and right now it’s just called My Book Club because the founders can’t decide on a name.”

  Chloe laughed and said, “I can’t believe this. That’s my book club. I started it with my friend Daphne. We’re still trying to come up with the perfect name.”

  “Are you ReadingMama or ChapterChick? I’m MadReader!”

  “I’m ChapterChick, and Daph is ReadingMama. She has a two-and-a-half-year-old daughter. How did you find the club?”

  “My cousin Dixie was visiting last summer and she turned me and my friend Marly on to it.”

  “Dixie Whiskey?” Chloe asked. When Madigan nodded, she said, “I know her. She and her friends have joined us over video chat a few times. She’s a riot.”

  “Oh my gosh, you have no idea. I want to be Dixie when I grow up. I swear she’s tougher than half the guys I know.” Madigan lowered her voice and said, “And she’s married to the hottest guy on the planet, Jace Stone, of Silver-Stone Cycles.”

  “I don’t know anything about motorcycles.” But I think Justin has got that hottest-guy label sewn up.

  “I don’t know much about motorcycles, either, but I know Jace’s are right up there as some of the best. I drive a pink Vespa, which my brothers love teasing me about. Anyway, you should know that I’ve told all my friends about the book club. See that blond waitress? The one with the long kinky hair and tattoos that Leah is shadowing?” She pointed across the room to a pretty girl taking an order from a customer and said, “That’s Starr. She’s in the book club, too.”

  “Really? That’s awesome. When Daph and I started the club, we never imagined having a whole group of readers in our area. Do you know we have in-person meetings every month at different locations?” Since the club had members all over the world, most of their communication was handled in the online forum, but every month a member was chosen at random to select the book for the following month and to choose the location for the in-person meeting. They had only one rule. The meetings must take place where there was a beach, or at least a body of water. Members who could not make it were always invited to join them via video chat.

  “Yes, but I never check out that thread because I’m always traveling. Using the forum is easier.”

  “I totally get that. But this month’s meeting is local. We’re meeting at Cahoon Hollow Beach tomorrow night at seven. Do you want to come? You can bring Marly and Starr. It’s going to be a lot of fun. I’ve planned a tropical island luau theme with leis and fruity drinks, island music, the whole nine yards.”

  “That sounds incredible. I’m sure Marly will want to come, and I’ll ask Starr, but she’s a single mother and I know she has trouble finding sitters for Gracie. She’s an active toddler.”

  “She can bring her. We’re used to little ones. Sometimes Daphne has to bring her daughter, Hadley. I can’t wait to meet Marly, and hopefully Starr, too. What are their screen names? I’ll hunt them down on the forums.”

  “Marly’s is FlippinPages, and Starr’s is RadiantReader. They’ll be excited to—”

  The doors to the deck flew open and Justin and Tank walked in with Justin’s brothers and a handful of other guys wearing black vests with Dark Knights’ patches. They stood by the door, a mob of grim scowls, silencing the din of the crowd like a wave of darkness. Their clothes were torn and bloody. There was an angry bruise on Justin’s cheek, scratches on his arms, and a tear in his jeans, exposing a bloody thigh. Tank motioned toward a table in the corner where more Dark Knights were sitting, and several of the men headed that way. The crowd parted, wide-eyed, for Tank, Justin, Blaine, Zeke, and Zander as they strode toward the bar shoulder to shoulder, heads down, moving like they carried the weight of the world on their backs.

  Justin lowered himself to a barstool, and Conroy set a beer in front of him. He served Tank and the others as Ginger inspected their cuts and bruises. They were too far away for Chloe to hear what they were saying, but Justin was shaking his head. The grave tone of their voices gave Chloe chills. She was riveted to the scene unfolding before her, her worst assumptions appearing to be true—a good reminder of why she dated pretty boys who cared too much about their faces to get in fights.

  Justin leaned his elbows on the bar and lowered his forehead to his hands. It was such a strange, unreconcilable sight to see her strong, able-to-handle-anything friend look so defeated. But despite the fears rattling inside her, Chloe ached for him. “They look like they had a rough night.”

  “Yeah. I guess things didn’t go well,” Madigan said, watching her brothers.

  Chloe saw Leah heading toward the bar, looking down at her order pad. Tank turned just as Leah looked up, and she froze, eyes wide. Tank was intimidating on any given day, but with the scratches on his face and arms and the grim look in his eyes, he was downright terrifying. Ginger put a hand on Leah’s shoulder and leaned in close to say something. Chloe couldn’t imagine what she might say to take away the fear in that girl’s eyes, but Leah scurried away like a frightened mouse. Chloe imagined Leah was probably rethinking her new job right about now.

  Tank’s shoulders sank, and he turned to Blaine, motioning toward the table where other Dark Knights had gathered. Blaine nudged Justin, but Justin shook his head. Blaine and the others headed for the table in the corner, leaving Justin to stare into his untouched beer alone.

  “Is it always like this?” Chloe asked, unable to look away from Justin.

  “Sometimes,” Madigan said. “They do what they have to.”

  “Since when does anyone have to fight?”

  “They’d do anything to save another life,” Madigan said softly.

  Chloe didn’t know what that meant, but she was done trying to guess about Justin and his life. It didn’t matter how she felt about fighting. She couldn’t just sit there and watch him suffer. “Would you mind if I went to check on Justin?”

  “Not at all. I want to check on the others, anyway. I’ll see you tomorrow night at the book club meeting.”

  “I’m looking forward to it.” Chloe stepped from the chair and grabbed her bag.

  With her heart in her throat, and not entirely sure she was doing the right thing, she made her way across the room.

  JUSTIN STARED BLANKLY into his drink. He’d had a shit day. Douchebag Alan Rogers had been home when Justin and Blaine had gone to check out his property that morning, and it had taken all of Justin’s restraint not to give the guy hell when he’d talked down to them. But that had been nothing compared to the rest of the day. The day’s events must have messed him up even more than he’d thought, because his skin prickled the way it did whenever Chloe was nearby. But he knew that was just wishful thinking. She never went to the Salty Hog. He closed his eyes, willing the sensation away, but it only became stronger. He finally lifted his head and looked around, sure he was losing his mind. He scanned the crowd, and when a group of people sat down, his chest constricted. As if he’d conjured her, Chloe came into view across the room—a beacon of hope on the darkest of nights, bringing as much relief as anguish.

  Her steps were tentative, her eyes wary. If it were any other night, he’d worry that maybe he’d taken their sexy texts too far these past few days, but he knew that wasn’t why she looked a little frightened. He hated the idea of her being scared at all, much less of him, but he knew how strongly she disliked violence, and there was no hiding what he’d done. At least she wasn’t walking out the door.

  He drew his shoulders b
ack, trying to smile, but sadness and anger gnawed at him. He tried to mask those feelings with humor even though he knew it was a losing battle, and said, “Hey, heartbreaker. What brings you to this side of town?”

  “I was talking to Mads about doing some puppeteering at LOCAL.” She studied his face, and then her gaze moved down his arms to the bloody gash in his leg. She lifted worried eyes to his and said, “Are you okay?”

  That familiar magnetic pull tugged at him, the need to be near her, to let her presence calm him. But he was in too dark of a mood to act casual. He needed to get the hell out of there before he scared her even more. “I’m fine.”

  “You should probably clean that gash in your leg.”

  “I’ll get around to it.” He picked up his beer, wishing he could drink the darkness away, but the thought of the dogs they’d rescued tonight, and the ones they couldn’t, turned his stomach. He set the beer back down, swallowing a curse.

  “Don’t be a pain. You’ll get an infection.” She dropped an enormous leather bag on the bar and rifled through it. “I’m afraid to ask what the other guys look like.”

  “Fuck the other guys. They’re not the ones who matter.”

  “Justin…” She looked at him with disbelief as she withdrew a first aid kit from her bag and opened it. Turning her attention to the kit, she found a small packet of antiseptic wipes and tore it open. Her eyes shot up to his. “I don’t even know who you are right now,” she said as she began cleaning the cut on his leg.

  “Ow. Holy hell, blondie.”

  “Don’t be a baby. If you can fight, you can take a little antiseptic.” She continued cleaning his wound and said, “I don’t know what you thugs fought about, but every life matters, and I don’t believe for a second that you think otherwise.” She set the dirty wipe on the bar and snagged a new one, then went back to cleaning his cut.

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “Despite pretending that I don’t notice certain things about you, you’re always there when I, or anyone else, needs you. The least I can do is be here for you to make sure you don’t get an infection. You’re all tough now, but you’ll probably cry like a baby when your cut gets infected.” She glanced at him, and the edges of her lips curved up in a sweet half smile, easing some of his tension. She set down the soiled wipe and used her hand to fan the damp area on his leg dry.