Wilder (The Wild Ones Book 3)

by C. M. Owens

Fucking Cougar. She won’t stop following me.

  Even she won’t just let me be.

  “She growls all the time. She’s not a threat. She’s too tame,” I tell him dismissively.

  “She is and will always be an unpredictable wild animal in my eyes. Leave her at home.”

  “I try. She’s being clingy because she’s a cat who can’t be told what to do. Cats do their own thing,” I argue, growling a little myself.

  He snorts.

  “Yeah. Your mood has nothing to do with it, even though she’s fiercely protective of you.” His paper rattles as he flicks the page. “I can’t have a wild, dangerous predator running around in the town streets. Lines have to be drawn.”

  I chug the last of my drink, and I stand, but before I can deliver a strategic insult, I spot three fools I can’t stand just outside. They only draw my attention because they’re racing to a car. All three are carrying covered dishes.

  I sit back down, frowning as two more walk by with covered dishes.

  “Did we get a new girl in town?” I ask.

  Vick looks away from his paper for the first time, and he glances out the window. I purse my lips as two more hurry by and get in a different car.

  The idiots car pool to go throw themselves at some chick they don’t know anything about?

  There’s also a long line to get into the bakery store, and it’s one hundred percent male.

  “No one’s said anything to me,” he states in confusion. “I do know this town is sick of the Wild Ones getting all the fresh faces—I don’t know why Benson got lumped into that, considering he lived here for nine years. In the town suggestion box, chemical castration has been mentioned a few times now.”

  I cut my gaze to him.

  “And people call Wilders excessive. This town’s hypocrisy knows no bounds,” I murmur as I take in the growing convoy of cars leaving Tomahawk.

  “Why the hell are they headed toward my side of the lake? There’s nothing out that way but my place. The road dead-ends on my land,” I tell him like he doesn’t already know that.

  “Think the men got desperate enough to go after Nila, even though she has three Wilder brothers?” he asks as though he expects an answer.

  “There’s still plenty of single women in Tomahawk who aren’t Nila. Even if they weren’t scared of us, no one would fuck with Nila because of Killian. Remember Teddy?”

  He shoots me a surprised look. “I forgot all about poor Teddy.”

  I nod slowly. “See? I don’t look so excessive anymore, do I?”

  His eyes narrow. “There’s a motherfucking cougar chewing up someone’s shoes on the front porch of this diner that is losing business just so you can eat your food in peace. You and I are the only ones in here, besides Mathew. You’re so excessive you’ve gotten bad for town businesses.”

  He gestures to the man who’d like to shoot me full of holes.

  “You called Vick and tattled on me, didn’t you?” I ask Mathew.

  He ducks behind the counter, because he doesn’t have the balls to face me without the other Wild Ones here to reel me in…you know, in case I get carried away.

  Rolling my eyes, I face Vick again. “I think my reputation just makes me look worse than I really am,” I inform him.

  “You blew up my patrol car last year.”

  “That was an accident. It was supposed to be a harmless prank. I replaced the car with a newer model, even though it set me back a pretty penny,” I remind him.

  He runs his hand through his hair. “That’s…not the point,” he groans. “Don’t even get me started on all the dead fish you and your brothers buried under the town hall’s floor six months ago. That smell still hasn’t gone away.”

  I smile about that one. “That was harmless. I don’t see how it was excessive.”

  “You wouldn’t,” he mutters, massaging his temples as though his head hurts. “Forget it. I never get anywhere when we have this argument. I need to go find out if we have a new resident so I can check them out.”

  He takes his coffee with him as he walks out, and I go to lean over the counter. Mathew’s eyes go wide from his crouched position, as I narrow mine at him.

  “Keep tattling on me me and I’ll play a prank on this diner,” I warn him.

  He pales as I push off from the counter, and like I do every day, I pull up Piper’s social media stuff. I flip through the apps one by one, finally getting the hang of all this.

  I freeze on her Instagram page.

  There’s a picture of her with a familiar quilt hanging on the wall behind her, as she holds up a peace sign while smiling. It’s the biggest smile she’s had in over month.

  I would know…I’ve studied every single picture’s details. This is her best smile yet.

  “Taking a break from traveling. Reese has you covered, though! I’ll be fielding all the submissions for sales promotions, so keep them coming,” is all the caption says.

  But I know that quilt.

  Maybe that’s an old picture…

  My eyes flick to the motherfuckers who are flocking in droves down the road that leads to my land. If men are flocking this hardcore, it’s because there’s a girl they want. Girls like Piper don’t swing through Tomahawk too often. They draw a crowd.

  There’s only one person who could be out that way…

  I’m out the door and in my Jeep in the very next instant, flooring it as I pass several vehicles. I commit a few faces to memory, because if they really are going after Piper, someone’s going to get severely punished.

  I get stuck behind the convoy half way up the mountain, and I lay on the horn. That has people darting out of my way, and some even turn around and head back toward town. Regardless, I make it through the fray and finally pull up in front of her cabin.

  It’s still boarded up, but it is loaded down with guys who look like they’re going to wait on her to magically appear.

  Everyone gets wide-eyed when I stalk closer. Most screech and scatter when I pick up the axe I have stuck in the trunk of the dead tree I cut down last week to keep it from collapsing on the cabin.

  Everyone scrams when I loudly howl into the air to call Cougar, who is probably spitting mad that I left her behind. All the Wild Ones howl, but only mine summons a big cat.

  I never have to say a word to send people on their way.

  I dig my keys out of my pocket and unlock the front door, heading inside…

  Nothing.

  Her cabin still smells like all her frills, but there’s dust collecting on every surface, untouched. Why did these fuckers think she was in town too?

  Sagging against the wall, I let my head thump back against the wood. There are vehicles abandoned all over the yard.

  My hand comes up over my chest that feels like a fucking blade is being stabbed in it. This is why it’s a dangerous thing to get your hopes up.

  I remember Ma doing this every time Dad left and someone hinted that he might be back. She’d get excited and then crushed if they were wrong.

  It makes me pity my mother a little now that I’m getting a taste of that.

  Eventually she stopped doing it. Hopefully I’ll stop as well, because this sucks worse than anything has sucked since she left.

  Shutting my eyes and counting to ten, I take a few breaths so I don’t unleash my fury on anyone who is pulling up with food or desserts in their hands. I’ll deal with them when I’m a little less angry.

  When I open the door, axe in hand, the newest arrivals shriek and sprint into the woods like this is the start of a horror movie.

  Swinging the axe in my hand, I wind up and throw it, stabbing it into the nearest tree.

  It sends several who are in hiding running into the woods as well.

  “Even if she did come back, she’d still be mine. Stay the fuck off my side of the lake!” I shout.

  Angry, I stalk down the stairs, go to my Jeep, and…punch the steering wheel while having a fucking fit for a minute. After the tantrum is finally over
, I let my head drop back to the seat and close my eyes while clutching the steering wheel.

  That’s the first morsel of hope I’ve allowed myself to have.

  I feel another de-stressing camping trip is now in order.

  Wild Ones Tip #217

  Where there’s a flag, there’s a Wild One.

  Chapter 23

  PIPER

  *******

  Tying my robe a little tighter, I hurriedly try to decorate the shit-tastic cake I’ve made.

  No amount of amateur icing is going to cover this warped disaster. How does a cake even bake this unevenly? The outsides look a little dry and almost burned, but I’m not so sure the inside is finished. It shouldn’t wiggle like that.

  I have icing on my face, hands, and eyebrows. How does it keep getting on my eyebrows?

  At this rate, I’m going to epically fail at seduction all over again.

  Shit. It’s on my neck too. I look like a disaster, and I have no idea what time I’ll finally get to see Kai.

  I had to leave my car at my cabin when it started getting blocked in by the guys, who weirdly find it appropriate to shower a girl with food. Fortunately, Krysta and Nila showed up to save me.

  It’s sweet that guys want to shower women with a gift before asking them out, but it’s also a little unnerving how many of them seem to want a girlfriend.

  Especially when there are a lot of pretty girls from town who are perfectly single and also looking for a boyfriend…

  I think small towns know too much about each other if strangers are that unequivocally appealing. Maybe too much honesty does come with its own set of drawbacks.

  Everyone knows everyone’s baggage and their mistakes…and their true selves…

  The sound of a Jeep pulling up has my inner thoughts cutting out and eyes widening in horror.

  I dart a look to the mirror, not looking even a little bit pretty. My robe is covered in as much icing and cake batter as the rest of me.

  He got all excited that first time I handed him the recycled brownie gift. I wanted to bake my own goods and keep with town tradition for wooing a guy.

  This can’t be happening right now! I still have to dress up the ugly cake with the strawberries I spent thirty minutes cutting up.

  The door swings open, and I freeze in place, half worried this might seem weird, now that I think about it. We haven’t spoken in over a month, and now I’m in a robe and making a mess in his kitchen because my cabin was crawling with men…before I even got back.

  How did people know I was coming back?

  Did Lilah tell them?

  Kai walks in, and my thoughts all vanish as I stare at him like it’s the first time I’m seeing him. My heart almost kicks my chest open.

  He runs a hand through his longer strands of hair that now flop over his forehead. His beard is a little less groomed, but it still looks damn good on him. His forearms flex as he tosses his coat to the chair, seeming a little angry as he does so.

  Shit. He’s not in a good mood. At all.

  I can tell by the way that muscle tics along his jaw. I’ve never seen him look this upset.

  He curses and kicks at the air, and he runs a hand through his hair again as he stalks to the bedroom, never once glancing in my direction.

  Great. Now our reunion is going to be awkward because I’m intruding on a private moment after letting Nila convince me that letting myself into his house uninvited was an okay thing to do.

  I’m an idiot.

  This is why I fail at seduction.

  My timing is always off and my efforts are always poorly executed.

  A large duffle bag flies out of the room, and it thunks heavily against the floor when it lands. Is he going somewhere?

  My timing is truly terrible.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  The ensemble I have on under this robe just makes me feel ridiculous now. I was really excited about my plan until I remembered how terrible I am at the two key points of the plan—baking and seduction.

  A backpack comes flying out of the room next, and it clangs against the ground next to the duffel.

  I rock back on my heels, distractedly putting some of the strawberries on the sad, ugly cake just to busy my hands.

  Kai stalks out, rifle in hand, and his eyes finally land on me—the girl standing in his kitchen with her robe on as I fail Julia Child and Marilyn Monroe.

  When he simply stares at me with those wide, unblinking eyes, not speaking, I nervously clear my throat. My gaze flicks to the bags in the floor and then to the rifle in his hand.

  “I guess I came at a bad time,” I tell him, fidgeting awkwardly.

  This was already wreaking havoc on my nerves. Now, as he keeps simply staring at me like this is all too sudden, I start realizing what an absolute ass I am.

  “Sorry,” I tell him, wiping my hands off. “In my head this was a good idea, but now I’m starting to realize how rude it is to show up unannounced and without any warning. I guess I should have—”

  I stop talking abruptly when he leaps over the downed luggage and drops the rifle to the floor. My eyes widen as he crosses the distance between us with a few long, quick strides.

  All the nervous energy quickly transitions into relief when he grabs me at the waist and jerks me to him. His arms close around me, and he hugs me to him almost too tightly.

  I smile against his chest as my own arms circle his waist, hugging him back.

  “I thought I was seeing things,” he says on what sounds like a weary breath, squeezing me so tightly that it almost hurts.

  “Can’t. Breathe,” I state on an exaggerated wheeze.

  His arms loosen just barely, and I feel him smile against my forehead where his lips are pressed.

  “Did you bake? I probably should have noticed my house smells like a dessert before now,” he murmurs, backing me up to the counter.

  “I tried to bake. It didn’t work out so well,” I confess.

  He keeps one arm around me, and his free hand comes to tip my chin up, forcing me to stare up into those warm, brown eyes.

  “Why are you baking? And why are you wearing a robe? Is this seduction?” he asks, the questions coming out at a spitfire rate as his eyes narrow.

  I’m not sure why I smile. My smile falls pretty quickly. My emotions are all over the place right now as my heartbeat speeds up, slows down, and fumbles around for the next few beats.

  We’ve never had to talk about our non-relationship because it had an expiration date. Now…I’m possibly going to look like a lunatic for deciding to move here on a whim.

  “Lilah said you missed me. Is that true?” I ask, my stomach tightening with those nervous knots all over again.

  His eyes rake over my face, and his thumb swipes against my cheek. When he pulls back his hand…his thumb has icing on it.

  Instead of answering me and putting me out of my misery, he sucks the icing off his thumb, drawing all my attention to his lips.

  He’s not even trying to seduce me, which proves how much better at seduction he is. My knees actually tremble a little.

  I missed him a lot more than I thought, because I don’t even let him step away when he tries. I keep my arms tightly wound around his waist, and watch as he smirks while lowering his hand from his mouth.

  “The icing is good,” he tells me.

  “That’s because Betty Crocker made it and not me,” I tell him, the words coming out on autopilot.

  His lips waver, as though he’s resisting the urge to change his smirk into a smile…or something like that.

  “Did you come back to visit because Lilah said I missed you?” he asks, his gaze flicking to my lips as he abruptly lifts me.

  A surprised breath slips out of me as my ass hits the counter, and he grabs both of my thighs, pulling them apart, so he can step between them.

  Maybe he is trying to seduce me.

  I wish I was prettier. I didn’t expect for the cake batter and icing to be such a mess.

  M
y words catch in my throat when I try to answer, because his head dips abruptly, and suddenly his mouth is on my neck.

  “You have icing here too,” he whispers.

  I shudder against him, my eyelids fluttering shut as I surrender. If he’s going to lick up all the icing on me…

  It probably won’t be as sexy if he gets it out of my eyebrows.

  His lips drag against my skin until he reaches the base of my throat, and he gently starts pulling my robe down on my shoulder.

  He groans against my skin, his grip tightening.

  “Are you fucking naked under this robe?” he asks as though he’s being tortured.

  I smile, because I think I’ve almost succeeded in nearly doing something right. If that makes any sense.

  Nothing really makes sense at all right now. My head seems to be trapped in a never-ending fog of nerves, excitement, worry, hope, and a lot of apprehension.

  “No,” I tell him.

  “Doesn’t really matter why you’re here,” he murmurs against my skin, the heat of his breath eliciting chills.

  My fingers tighten in his shirt over his chest, and my legs wind around his waist as I pull him closer.

  He groans again, and when his head lifts, his lips fuse to mine. There’s a difference between a hungry, desperate kiss and one full of pent-up longing.

  I never knew the difference before now, but he doesn’t devour me like he’s starving. He devours me like I’m being rewarded for agonizing over him for over a month.

  I kiss him back just the same, my hands moving all over him as though they’re possessed. His hands slide up my back, into my hair, and back down again, as he continues to thoroughly wreck me with just a kiss.

  He did miss me.

  This also feels different than goodbye. I’m not sure what to call it.

  Is it too soon to tell him I’m back because I love him?

  Is it too crazy to blurt out that I’m moving into my late Gran’s cabin on a permanent basis so I can jump in with both feet instead of toeing the uncharted water?

  Is it too absurd to insinuate myself into his life with any expectations at all?

  We had so many miscommunications last time because we avoided talking about anything future related. But we have to talk about the future now.