“I’m not hot for him.” It was an automatic response, denying her attraction to Tate.
Oh God. Was she really attracted to Tate? Or was she crazy?
“Well, I think he’s hot for you. And it’s silly how you keep him at arm’s length.” Delilah’s voice lowered, like she didn’t want Lane to hear her, which was probably the case. “He’s gorgeous, Wren. Like drop-dead, ridiculously good-looking. You should go for it.”
“He’s not my type.”
“He’s everyone’s type. Smart, funny, beyond handsome, and he has a good job. He’s a total catch.”
“Well, I don’t want him. I’d throw that catch right back into the ocean.” Wren winced. She sounded stupid. Typical. Tate rendered her stupid. She didn’t want to talk about him anymore. She’d say something even dumber, and Delilah would totally call her on it. “Let’s change the subject.”
“You’re making lame-ass remarks and want to change the subject. I think that means you’re hot for him.”
Freaking Delilah.
“Stop trying to make a match. It’s not working.” Damn it, it was so working. Delilah was right. Tate was totally her type. Well, not really, but it didn’t matter. She would never toss him into the ocean. She’d rather toss him into her bed.
Ugh. No. Bad idea. Epically awful, terrible idea.
“Please. I think it would totally work. You two would be so cute together.”
“He’s too good-looking.” Wren stared down at her phone, surprised she was about to admit one of her many insecurities when it came to Tate Warren. “I don’t date men who are better-looking than me.”
“Are you serious right now? Babe, you’re beautiful. Have you seen the way he looks at you?”
“How does he look at me?” Wren asked, her voice small. She nibbled on her thumbnail, scared to hear what Delilah had to say.
“Like he wants you. Like you amuse and intrigue him, all at once. Are you wearing your hair up?”
Delilah’s abrupt change of subject threw her for a second. “Um, yeah?” She turned her head, looking at her reflection. Her high ponytail looked good—if she did say so herself—and it worked double duty considering how hellaciously hot it was outside.
“Take it down. Now,” Delilah demanded.
“Yes, Mom.” Wren pulled the hair tie out, her stick-straight hair falling down past her shoulders.
“Wear your hair down, slick on some shiny lip gloss, and make sure to do that cat-eye thing you’re so good at. You’ll slay him dead. See you soon.” Delilah made kissy noises, and then she was gone.
Wren scowled at herself in the mirror, then snatched the eyeliner pen from the counter. She shouldn’t want to dress up for him. She wasn’t going to dinner tonight to impress a man. That was silly.
But she took a deep breath, told herself to calm down, and started to reapply the eyeliner, telling herself to take her time and get it right. She wanted to look good. Not for Tate.
But for herself.
Chapter Five
TATE HAD A plan—and that plan was to ignore Wren as much as possible tonight. He needed to stay away from her in order to keep his sanity. She had a way of getting under his skin just by looking at him, not to mention when she talked to him. Hearing her voice, seeing her expressive face, just being in her presence made him feel alive.
But he’d pissed her off the last time they were together, and he figured it best to keep his distance. No matter how difficult that might be.
He’d been to a few of Harper and West’s get-togethers over the summer and they were always crowded. Full of people and music and food and plenty of beer flowing. They definitely knew how to throw a party. He arrived at West and Harper’s place and didn’t see Wren’s car in the parking lot. He figured he would have the upper hand when she finally appeared, already comfortable and chatting someone up, preferably a pretty girl. If the party was a real rager, he might never encounter Wren at all.
But once he walked through the door, he realized quickly that it wasn’t a typical party. Oh, Harper pretended that it was, but really? It was a couples thing. A couples-only dinner thing.
Meaning he was paired up with Wren for the evening.
Shit.
His friends said nothing, the pussy-whipped fuckers. He nursed a beer and bit his tongue, afraid he might say something rude to Harper since she was the one who’d put him in this position.
Wren was going to kill him when she discovered what their so-called friends had done.
When she finally walked through the front door, he sent her a helpless look, one that he hoped said, I had nothing to do with this. Don’t hate me.
He swore he could see the momentary panic on her face when her gaze swept the room, noting how many people weren’t there. She sent a death stare Harper’s way before she started her approach.
Toward him.
Tate tried not to act like an asshole and gape at her, but it proved difficult considering how damn beautiful she looked. She wore a strapless blue dress that covered even her feet but didn’t really show off any of the curves he knew she had. That was only a minor disappointment since her shoulders and arms were bare, revealing her collarbones and the very, very top of her breasts. She didn’t have it all hanging out—what a shame—but there was the slightest hint of cleavage, and she kept yanking the top up self-consciously.
Weirdo that he was, he liked the glimmer of self-consciousness, considering she made him a little nervous when pretty much nothing made him feel that way. He wondered if he made her nervous too.
Damn. He couldn’t stop staring at her. He’d bet big money her skin was soft. And he’d bet she smelled extra good tonight too.
She stopped just in front of him, and he snapped his lips shut, trying to appear unaffected.
“Tate.” Her voice was icy.
He started to sweat. “Dove. Though I should probably call you Bluebird, what with the dress.”
Her gaze narrowed. She looked pissed. What else was new? Didn’t she see he teased no one else like he teased her? It was a sign of affection, damn it. He liked her.
Okay, fine. He more than liked her.
He wanted to see her naked. Have sex. Fuck her. Make her come. Slip his dick in her mouth. Feel her fingers curl around his dick. Whatever it took, whatever she was up for, that’s what he wanted.
She sighed, the sound full of irritation. “So typical.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He frowned.
“You go for the obvious every single time. Calling me bird names. It’s becoming old news.”
He reached over and tugged on a glossy strand of brown hair, his gaze locking with hers. “You don’t like the bird names?” He liked her hair down. Could imagine gathering it into his hand and pulling as he fucked her from behind.
“I hate the bird names.”
“Why? It’s fun.”
“Maybe to you.” She lifted her chin. “I find them annoying.”
“I hate to break it to you, but . . . ” He paused, taking a step closer until his mouth was by her ear. “You think pretty much everything I do is annoying.”
She was quiet for a moment and he didn’t move, her ear so temptingly close he wanted to lick it. Nibble it. Whisper dirty things in it.
“True,” she finally said on a shuddery exhale. She took a step back, as if needing the distance. “I guess you just can’t help yourself.”
“I guess not. I’m just teasing you, Wren. I don’t mean to irritate you.” He decided to change the subject before she ran with this and continued to insult him. “You think they’re trying to pair us together?”
Her eyes went almost comically wide, and she rested a hand on her chest, covering her cleavage. A damn shame if anyone asked him. “Noooo. You don’t really think so, do you?” She was most definitely mocking him.
But he chose to ignore the mocking tone. “Shouldn’t we just make them happy?”
Those pretty blues went from wide to narrowed in a few seconds flat. “So
you want to try out being a couple just to make them happy?”
“I have a feeling I could make you pretty happy too, if you know what I mean.” He smiled. She frowned. But he caught a flicker of something in her eyes, something that looked suspiciously like . . . interest.
But any hint of interest was gone in an instant. “You’re incredibly arrogant.”
He shrugged, said nothing. But deep inside his heart thundered, and nerves ate at his gut. This girl set him on edge. He told himself to stay away, yet here he was, like he couldn’t help himself.
Which he sort of couldn’t.
Besides, their friends actually wanted them together—at least, the women did. It was obvious. He was on board with the idea—as long as she didn’t expect anything serious.
Not that Wren seemed to expect much of anything when it came to him. She flat out didn’t like him. He didn’t get it. Could it be brotherly influence? He thought he was friends with both Lane and West, but maybe they hated the idea of him dating their baby sister.
“I’m still mad at you, you know.” Her sweet voice broke through his thoughts, and he turned to look at her.
“For what?” he asked, taking a swig from his beer. He was always pissing this girl off, so what else was new?
“For the mockingbird bit. When you sang me the lullaby.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest, plumping up her breasts, and his gaze dropped as if he had no control. When it came to Wren, he was learning that was pretty much the truth. And damn, she was really giving him an eyeful. “You blew your chance.”
Tate wondered if she’d blow him. Hell, he wondered if she’d be up for him sliding his cock between her perfect tits. Had she ever let a guy do that to her before?
Something stirred in his belly at the possibility, and he shoved it away. Jealousy had no place here.
None.
“Eyes up here, jackass,” she muttered, and he jerked his gaze from her chest to find her watching him with a scowl. “Did you even hear what I said?”
He was about to take another drink and he paused, lowering his beer. Yeah, he’d heard her. “Blew what chance?” he asked carefully.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” It was her turn to lean in close to him. She dropped her arms, her right breast rubbing against his chest, and he wondered if she did that on purpose. “I was a little drunk that night. And to be honest, I was also perfectly willing. Right until you sang the stupid song.”
Perfectly willing. Perfectly willing. Those two simple words were on repeat in his head. Perfectly willing for what? Anything? Everything?
She must’ve seen the questioning in his eyes, because she smiled smugly, her delicate eyebrows rising. “Yes. Whatever you were up for, I would’ve done. But now you’ll never know, right? You seriously blew it.”
And with that, she turned and walked away.
WREN WAS SHAKING, her stomach twisting into knots as she made her way across the room, never once looking back to see if Tate was watching.
But she could feel his eyes on her and knew without a doubt that he was most definitely watching her. She made sure she put some extra sway in her step, hoping like crazy that her words had filled him with total regret.
She was still mad about that night. That he sang that stupid song and ruined her mood. For the way he made fun of her yet somehow made her feel sexy, all at the same time.
His gaze had been appreciative when he looked at her, and he’d straight up ogled her chest just now. She acted like she hated it, but really?
Damn it, she’d freaking loved it. She couldn’t remember the last time a man had looked at her like Tate just did. Her skin had grown warm and her nipples hard beneath the dress. She wore no bra, so she could only hope he hadn’t noticed.
But knowing Tate Warren? He totally noticed.
“What did you just say to him?” Harper asked when Wren stopped to stand by her side. “He looks like he just swallowed his tongue.”
“Nothing much.” Wren shrugged. She couldn’t tell Harper what she said. It was bad enough how hard their friends were pushing them on each other. “I can’t believe you did this, by the way.”
The innocent look on Harper’s face was a bit much. “What are you talking about?”
“Give me a break. You’re trying to put the two of us together. Your couples-only dinner party is a dead giveaway.”
“I don’t like that we’re all coupled up and you’re not.” Harper frowned. “I don’t want you lonely.”
Oh God. She really didn’t want Harper and everyone else feeling sorry for her. Talk about pitiful. “I’m not lonely. I work too much to ever be lonely.” Sort of a lie, sort of the truth.
“The fact that you think working too much is totally okay totally isn’t.” Harper sent her a stern look. “I think you two would make a perfect couple.”
“I can’t stand him.” Lies. “He makes me insane.” Truth. “He’s always making fun of me.” And I sort of love it.
“He’s just teasing.”
“Yeah, well, sometimes it hurts.” Not really.
Okay, yes really. But only when I believe he sees me only as a joke. That’s when it hurts.
Growing up, her brothers never took her seriously. And her father definitely never took her seriously. Even her mom—whom she adored and would do anything for—didn’t believe she could do much beyond marry well and raise a family. Those had been her mom’s goals, so she believed they should be Wren’s too. Maybe she had ambitions. Goals. Maybe they had nothing to do with this town or the work she was doing. Maybe she needed to leave.
But where would she go? Why did she constantly beat herself up for staying in Wildwood? Harper left and came back. Delilah was perfectly content.
So why did she feel so restless?
“Should I have West talk to him?” Harper offered, breaking into Wren’s wayward thoughts.
“God, no. Keep my brother out of it.” Wren shook her head, sending a worried glance in West’s direction. He was talking to Tate, but they seemed friendly enough. Tate was even smiling and laughing, so that had to be a good sign.
The last thing she wanted was one or all of her brothers running to her defense. It was fine in school, not so much in adulthood.
Besides, she didn’t want to scare Tate away. Not when she was finally starting to realize she liked him.
“He seems into you.” At Wren’s frown Harper continued. “Tate. I think he likes you.”
“He wants to sleep with me.” Harper beamed, and Wren almost hated to be the one to shut her down. “But there’s a big difference between wanting to sleep with me and actually liking me, Harper. You know this.”
“So it’s just a sex thing?” Harper sounded disappointed.
“I don’t think Tate knows how to commit. And I refuse to get involved with a man who can’t commit.” She tried to act tough, like she wasn’t bothered by her friends finding love, but she yearned for the same thing. She wanted to find a man who wanted to be with her, who loved only her.
Considering their less-than-perfect upbringing and the example their parents had set, Wren was surprised by the devotion her brothers displayed toward their women—all three of them. The youngest, Holden, had been in the longest relationship of them all, and he was still madly in love with his girlfriend, Kirsten. West and Lane followed Harper and Delilah around like lovesick puppy dogs.
Wren wanted that. She wanted a strong man who was confident, who knew what he wanted and went after it. And once he got it, he worked his hardest to keep it. She’d had a boyfriend long ago who she’d believed was the one. Her old high school love, the boy she gave her virginity to. She’d been the devoted one in that relationship. Following Levi around like he was the man of her dreams, secretly planning their future wedding, writing her name in the back of her school notebooks with his last name attached to hers.
Levi Hamilton
Wren Gallagher Hamilton
Wren Hamilton
Levi and Wren Hamilton<
br />
Mrs. Wren Hamilton
Yeah, she’d truly believed they were the perfect couple . . . until they weren’t anymore.
And though she hated to admit it, she’d never really gotten over the way he dumped her. Out of nowhere, just before he left for college. She was a year younger and had been fully prepared for their upcoming long-distance relationship. Couldn’t deny the little thrill that buzzed through her every time she thought about having a boyfriend in college.
But he’d broken up with her the day before he left, explaining that she deserved her freedom and so did he. During their time apart, he knew they would change too much. He couldn’t stand the thought of her sitting at home waiting for him, missing him, when she should be truly experiencing her senior year and having fun.
She’d cried, she’d become unbelievably angry, and then she’d decided to have way too much fun just to prove to Levi that she could. She’d ended up getting in trouble. Doing bad in school, skipping classes, falling in with the wrong crowd. She’d grown distant with Harper and Delilah. They were older than her and already graduated from high school, so it was natural. She’d forcefully distanced herself from everyone.
It had been a brief moment in time when she had pushed all her limits and done stupid things, just to prove that she could. And it scared her, everyone’s reaction to her wild behavior. Her parents blustered and threatened. Her brothers drove her crazy with their increasingly overprotective behavior. The real kicker? When her father told her she’d amount to absolutely nothing.
That had hurt. More than she ever admitted. Not that she told anyone he said that.
Now she pushed no limits. She played it safe.
Always.
“I think a just-sex thing would be ideal if you asked me,” Harper said, knocking Wren from her thoughts.
Wren gaped at her friend. “Are you for real right now?”
Harper shrugged, glancing around to make sure no one heard her before she explained. “You were in a serious relationship when you were basically a kid. You went wild for a little bit, and then you calmed down. You haven’t really done much since. Having casual sex with a gorgeous man would be a surefire way to cure your blues.”
Torch: The Wildwood Series Page 4