by Joanna Wylde
“Okay,” I said, feeling proud of myself. I’d move past Ruger—this was the perfect first step. “That would be fun. But just friendly. I’m really not looking to get serious with anyone.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he replied, grinning at me. “We’ll just go and have some fun—and Ryan can vouch for me. I’m not an undercover supervillian, no dark secrets, nothing. What you see is what you get.”
I started to reply, but a thick stream of water suddenly hit the side of my head, drenching me as Ava shrieked. I look up to see Noah running away with a small pack of boys, screeching in triumph. Little shit …
“I need to go dry off,” I told Josh.
“Want me to go defend your honor?” he asked, holding up his Soaker.
“Yeah, you do that.”
He stood and saluted me, eyes dancing with laughter, then tore off after the mob of children shooting each other and running around the grass.
I found Ryan by the grill. He held a beer in one hand and a pair of tongs in the other, and as he shifted them to take Ava, he smiled at me.
“You know, Josh’s a real good guy,” he said. “I’ve known him a couple of years.”
“Um, he seems nice,” I replied awkwardly. Ryan laughed.
“Don’t worry—no pressure,” he said. “Just wanted to let you know he’s not a serial killer.”
“Good to know,” I said. “Thanks for having me over. Thanks for everything, actually.”
“No problem,” he said. “Kimber thinks you’re the shit. You know, it’s not that easy for her to find friends, despite what you’d think. You’re special to her.”
That startled me.
“Kimber’s always had more friends than anyone,” I said, laughing.
His face sobered and he shook his head. “No, she’s always got more people at her parties than anyone. There’s a big difference.”
I didn’t know what to say. Ryan shrugged, and smiled again.
“Go get dried off,” he added. “We’ve got sparklers for the kids once it’s totally dark. I’ll need help, and Kimber’s useless after three margaritas.”
I smiled hesitantly and walked inside. Off to the left was a family room, with the kitchen and a breakfast bar off to the right. My sandal caught on the doorway, pulling the strap loose, so I dropped down to fix it just inside the entry.
“Jesus, did you see what Ryan’s wearing?” I heard a woman say in the kitchen.
“I know,” said another. “And Kimber’s not much better. Could that bikini be smaller? You know she’s a giant slut, right? She used to be a stripper. I just hope they leave before Ava hits school. I don’t want Kaitlyn in her class.”
“No kidding. That’s why I moved to this neighborhood—I wanted all our neighbors to be normal, not trashy. And her friend … God, she must’ve been, what, ten years old when she had her kid?”
“I saw her skanking all over Josh. Disgusting.”
My phone buzzed, and I pulled it out of my pocket to find a text from Marie.
Hey. I know things are weird, but I really hope you’ll come to my bachelorette party next weekend. We’re all hanging out tonight and thinking about how much more fun it would be with you here! xoxo
“So, my pedicure girl moved to a new salon. All Vietnamese, and I hate how they talk to each other without speaking in English. So rude!” said the woman in the kitchen.
“You’re sooo right. I never leave a tip when they do that. They should be speaking English if they’re going to live here …”
I stood up and walked through the kitchen, piercing each of the women in turn with a sweet smile. Bitches. How dare they gossip about Kimber, in her own house? I couldn’t believe they’d get drunk on her booze while ripping her apart like that.
At least nobody was whipping out knives.
Not metal ones, anyway.
I wanted to go home.
“You got it, bud,” Josh said, watching intensely as Noah lined up his shot at the skee-ball machine. I had to laugh. Josh had been joking about his theory … mostly. The man really did love the game. It turned out Noah loved it, too, so things had worked out pretty well.
We’d been at Chuck E. Cheese’s for nearly three hours, and I’d had a blast. Josh was easy to be around. He didn’t stress me out and he didn’t scare me. We’d eaten dinner, and to give him credit, he ate the nasty pizza they served without a single snide comment (not even I could pull that off). Then he bought Noah more tokens than he’d ever seen before and we’d hit the games.
Now it was almost nine and I knew we needed to get Noah out soon or things could get ugly. I touched Josh’s arm, catching his attention. He turned and grinned at me, looking like a big, happy puppy.
“We need to head home,” I said, nodding toward my son. “He’s tired. Don’t want to push him too hard.”
“Understood,” Josh replied. He put an arm around my shoulders and pulled me close, giving me a squeeze. “You’ve got a good kid there.”
I smiled, because I knew he was right. Also because I liked his arm around my shoulder. Josh didn’t make my heart explode like Ruger did, but he had a good sense of humor and was fun to be around. That had to count for something.
We fed all of the tickets we’d won (and it seemed like thousands of them) into the chomping machines, which caused Noah intense delight. Then we spent another twenty minutes at the prize counter as he agonized over which tiny plastic rings or erasers to pick.
The sun had set when we finally walked outside. The pizza place was in one of those strip malls with free-standing restaurants in the parking lot. I looked over at the steak house longingly, still a little hungry—I’d only managed to choke down half a slice. Josh bumped my shoulder.
“Maybe next time we can get a grown-up meal,” he said.
“Is that your way of asking me out again?” I asked, coming to a stop next to my car. Noah bounced around next to me happily, playing with his new treasures. I looked up at Josh and smiled. He smiled back, and I was struck by how cute he was. Geeky cute, like Ryan.
I could do a lot worse.
“Depends on what the answer would be,” he replied, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “I hate getting shot down.”
“I don’t think you’d get shot down,” I said. He leaned forward and kissed me lightly on the lips. It was nice—not hot and intense, but pleasant.
“Uncle Ruger!” Noah yelled, and I felt him take off running. I pulled away from Ryan instantly, my mommy radar fully engaged. I bolted after him, shouting his name and yelling at him to stop. He ignored me, jumping into Ruger’s arms where he stood on the sidewalk outside the steak house.
Several other guys from the club were with him.
“Noah, you can’t run off like that!” I said, catching Noah’s chin so his eyes had to meet mine. “You could get killed. You know better—you’re a big boy now.”
“I’m sorry,” he said instantly. “I forgot. I got excited. I wanted to show Uncle Ruger my prizes.”
Shit, I’d been so worried about Noah, I wasn’t even thinking about Ruger. I looked up to find him staring across the lot.
“Who’s your friend?” he asked, jerking his chin toward Josh, who gave us a halfhearted wave.
“That’s Josh,” I said defiantly. “He’s a friend of Kimber’s husband. They work together.”
“He took us to Chuck E. Cheese’s and we played tons of games and I got all kinds of prizes but I didn’t have enough tickets to get what I really wanted so he said maybe we could come back another time and I said yes,” Noah told him breathlessly. “He’s pretty cool, Ruger.”
Ruger’s eyes hardened, and he set Noah down.
“Stay here, kid,” he said. Then he stepped out across the parking lot, obviously planning to intercept Josh. Fuck.
“Stay,” I said to Noah, then glanced up at Bam Bam. “Will you make sure he doesn’t run off?”
Dancer’s husband gave a quick nod, but his eyes weren’t exactly friendly.
> Great.
I scurried off toward Ruger and Josh.
“Hey,” I said, looking between them. Ruger’s face was like stone, his eyes glinting with possessive menace. Josh looked confused and a little uncertain. “Josh, this is Noah’s uncle, Ruger. Ruger, this is my friend Josh. We were just leaving. Sorry about Noah bothering you.”
“Noah never bothers me,” Ruger said, cocking his head at Josh, who tried to offer him a smile.
“He’s a great kid,” Josh said. “You must be proud of him.”
“Yup,” Ruger said to him. “You need to go now. Probably be best if you don’t call Sophie again.”
Josh’s eyes widened.
“Go fuck yourself, Ruger,” I snapped. Josh glanced over at me, looking nervous. “Josh, please ignore him. He’s leaving.”
“Nope, I’m not leaving,” Ruger said pointedly. “And I won’t be leaving. You’re not welcome here. Don’t know what Sophie’s told you, but she’s taken.”
“That’s not true,” I said quickly. Josh looked between us, swallowing.
“You need a hand, Ruger?” Horse called from the sidewalk. He offered Josh a wolfish smile.
“Not with this asshole,” Ruger replied, holding Josh’s eyes steadily. Josh broke, looking away.
“Um, I gotta get going,” he said, offering me a quick, sheepish smile. Then he turned and walked away very quickly.
I stared, dumbfounded.
“Looks like your new boyfriend scares easy,” Ruger murmured. “Didn’t even make sure you were safe with me. Wouldn’t want a man like that at my back. Of course, I don’t need to worry about backup. My brothers are there for me, no matter what.”
He took my shoulders and turned me toward the steak house. I saw Horse, Bam Bam, Duck, and Slide standing around my son. Bam held Noah’s shoulder protectively. Ruger leaned down behind me, speaking softly in my ear as his fingers squeezed my shoulders.
“Look at that,” he said. “You know them, so you know Noah couldn’t be safer. But your buddy Josh? He knows shit about those guys. That didn’t stop him from walking away to cover his own ass while they had your son. Hell of a man you’ve found.”
I swallowed, because I knew he was right.
So Josh wouldn’t be getting a second date if he bothered to call. Probably a moot point, because I had a feeling he wouldn’t.
“You need to stay out of my life,” I told Ruger, watching Noah carefully show off his prizes, offering Horse one of his precious rings. Horse accepted it, sliding it a quarter of the way down his pinkie.
Noah glowed with pride.
“Yeah, I’ll get right on that,” Ruger said. “Don’t take Noah out with a guy like that again. You’ll send him the wrong message.”
“None of your business.”
“It’ll always be my business.”
“You don’t get to win every single time,” I told him seriously. “Just because you say something, that doesn’t mean it’s true.”
“Just ’cause I say it doesn’t mean I’m wrong, either.”
I glared at him, then marched over and collected Noah, trying not to grit my teeth. I took him home and put him to bed, feeling bitchy the entire time.
When I fell asleep that night, it wasn’t Josh I was dreaming of. Nope, stupid Ruger. Again.
Even in my dreams he won.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
SUNDAY
KIMBER: Josh won’t tell Ryan anyting about ur date. Did somethig go wrong?
ME: Ruger
KIMBER:???
ME: We had a great time then Ruger showed up. Pretty sure I’ll never hear from Josh again
KIMBER: Jesus Ruger. Stalk much?!?!???
ME: No it wasn’t like that. He was having dinner with the guys we ran into him in the parking lot. He had a little bullshit talk with Josh then Josh ran off. I realize he doesn’t know us very well but he didnt even make sure Noah and I were safe when he left. Epic fail all around
KIMBER: Pisser. Josh loses margarita privileges. Hate wimps
ME: Meh …
KIMBER: So u talk to Ruger at all?
ME: Nope. Fuck him
KIMBER: Gotcha. Hey u going to the bachelorette party? Marie invited me and I wnat to go, but it would be wiered without u
ME: Can’t decide. Like her and would love it, but … you know …
KIMBER: Yup, I get it. Keep me posted
MONDAY
RUGER: Can I pick Noah up after school? Got a thing I want to take him to
ME: What kind of thing?
RUGER: Got a friend who races, his car is down at the track. Said Noah could have a ride
ME: Is it safe???
RUGER: Safe as any car. He’ll go slow
ME: Biker friend?
RUGER: No. No colors, no Reapers. Don’t agree with you on that, but I’m giving you time
ME: I dont need time. I need you gone
RUGER: Can I take him or not?
ME: Okay. Home by 6?
RUGER: 7 work? I’ll get him dinner
ME: Sounds good. No games, tho. Drop him off and leave
RUGER: I hear you. No games
WEDNESDAY
DANCER: So you coming to party or not? Marie really wants you there.
ME: Um …
DANCER: Please come. I know things are shit with you and Ruger. I don’t care, neither does Marie. We’d love to have you there.
ME: Okay. Dont want to stay out too late tho. I have work on Friday
DANCER: No prob. Even a few hours would be great for Marie. Kimber, too? She’s fun. Um, coul dyou ask her to bring her blender, too? Starting at my place before hitting bars …
ME: Dork :p
DANCER: Not dorky to know what you want;)
ME: Guess not. I’ll see if Elle can watch Noah
DANCER: You can share our sitter if you need to
ME: Rather have him closer to home. More likely to sleep. Oour lives have been crazy lately and he has school tomorrow
DANCER: See you tomorrow night <3
ME: Sounds good
THURSDAY
KIMBER: Can’t believe she’s having the party on a thursday. Sucks, Ryan has to work tomorrow. Hangover and baby don’t mix!!!!!!!!!!
ME: You don’t have to drink, you know.
KIMBER: Shut the fuck up. Ur not drinking?
ME: No—work in morning.
KIMBER: You preggo or something?
ME: Oh, you’re funny
KIMBER: :-> So u know why a thursday?
ME: Marie said she’s got a thing with her mom this weekend. Spa or something
KIMBER: Jealous. We should do that
ME: Right after I win the lottery
KIMBER: Hmmm … ur gonna have to start buying tickets
ME: Why don’t you buy for both of us?
KIMBER: So long as I get to drink for both of us, I’m down with that! SMOOCHES
“Fuck!” Marie screamed, spinning around. “I lost my veil!”
She stood up in the limo’s open sunroof. It was just after midnight, and we’d decided to cruise down along the Coeur d’Alene lake before hitting our final destination, a karaoke bar.
About an hour ago, Marie had declared she wanted—no, needed—to sing “Pour Some Sugar on Me” before the night ended. It’d been playing when she and Horse met, and apparently the world would end if we didn’t sing it again tonight.
We knew this because she’d been very clear: The existence of the world literally depended on successful completion of this karaoke mission.
As one of the most sober women in the limo, I’d been assigned to make sure we didn’t get distracted and forget. Seeing as I wasn’t one hundred percent sober, I’d carefully written this on my inner arm with a pen as a reminder.
Now I stood next to her, watching in horror as the little white scrap of tulle she wore on her head flew through the air toward Painter, who followed us on his bike. Holy shit. Would it make him crash?
Apparently a drifting veil wasn’t a serious roa
d hazard to a bike going twenty-five miles an hour, because he avoided it easily enough. The prospect following him—one I’d seen at the Armory party but hadn’t met—pulled off to go fetch it.
Nice.
“That’s good service,” I told Marie. She started giggling, and then she fell down into the limo, officially drunk off her ass.
I popped back down, too.
Dancer lay back across one of the seats, laughing so hard she was crying. Maggs had her shirt up, flashing her boobs while Kimber took a picture. Wasn’t sure I wanted the whole story on that one. A woman I’d just met named Darcy was pouring champagne in that very slow, very deliberate way drunk people have. Unfortunately she’d forgotten the glass.
I hoped whoever arranged the rental had coverage for that kind of thing.
A woman with short, curly, reddish-blonde hair sat giggling in the corner. Back when she could still speak in full sentences, Marie had introduced her as Cookie. She used to live in Coeur d’Alene but had moved, and now Marie managed the coffee shop she still owned in town.
Em and I looked at each other and she rolled her eyes.
I’d decided not to drink too much because I had work in the morning, but I was still in a pretty good mood. Definitely planning on a cab ride home. Em, though … She had a haunted look in her eyes that bothered me. No wonder the girls had been worried about her—something was obviously wrong.
“So why don’t they just go home?” I asked Em, scooting over to sit next to her.
“Who?”
“Painter and the other guy, Banks.”
“Banks will stick with us all night,” she said quietly. “He’s supposed to keep an eye on us, make sure we make it home safe. I guess Painter’s just along for the ride—maybe he’s worried after what went down with Hunter and Skid.”
“He was watching you while you were dancing,” I said. “He may not have seemed interested before, but he’s definitely interested now.”
“I could give a fuck,” she replied, her voice flat. “Painter, Hunter … men in general. I think I’m swearing off them entirely. Too bad I can’t just flip a switch and go lesbian.”
“Pretty sure it doesn’t work that way,” I said, sighing. “Men really are a giant pain in the ass, aren’t they?”