The Wanted

by Rory Miles

  Brushing my hair and adjusting my top, I inspected the unhappy woman looking back at me in the mirror. The frown on my face was the exact reason I’d lived alone for so long. Men had never been worth this sort of worry, especially not after what my brother and Daman had done to me. Still, the thought of leaving the men hurt worse than their secrets.

  Let them keep their secrets; I had a few of my own, after all. Besides, I’d been doing just fine on my own before the guys. Casual sex had never soothed my loneliness, but Meyers and his wife had been my adopted family while I lived in Desert City. If this living arrangement didn’t work out, I could always move and find new friends. Not to mention, I could always just love myself. I pulled my shoulders back, placed my hand on my hip and blew a kiss at the mirror. A smile broke across my face. I was such a dork.

  “Not so pretty now, are you, boy?” Mrs. Draper cackled, her dentures pushing against her lips when she closed her mouth to stifle the sound. She wore a bright orange nightdress, a yellow cloth wrapped around her gray hair, and bright green slippers. Somehow, she pulled the vibrant outfit off.

  Flynn blushed, shaking some of his brown hair over his eye.

  “What happened to you? This one finally knock some sense into you?” Her knobby finger pointed at me.

  This time she and I laughed together. Flynn scowled at us.

  “A mark proved to be troublesome.”

  Mrs. Draper nodded, looking him over. “Well. You’re standing here. Does that mean he looks worse than you do?”

  Flynn’s devilish grin made me smile.

  “Damn straight,” he replied.

  She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t you curse at me, young man.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Flynn sighed, heading to the side of the house to start painting.

  She watched as I wrung out a rag, wiping down the front of her house to remove the dust.

  “You going to make a man out of him?”

  My fist banged on my chest, trying to dislodge the spit that was suddenly choking me.

  She barked out a laugh. “Easy, girl. It’s just a question.”

  “Flynn and I are just friends.”

  A ripple of surprise passed over her face, her eyes lighting on something behind me.

  “He better be just a friend. He wasn’t part of the original agreement,” a deep, rumbling voice said from behind me. Bron wrapped his arms around my waist, stepping up so our bodies brushed against each other.

  “My, oh my. I see why Flynn is just a friend.” Mrs. Draper touched the yellow fabric covering her hair, blushing scarlet. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to finish getting ready.” She rushed inside, glancing over her shoulder and giving Bron a sweet smile before the door clicked closed.

  His body shook with laughter, but he didn’t let it out. A small part of me was pleased he didn’t want to embarrass the woman. I turned in his arms, tilting my head up.

  “What are you doing here?”

  He gazed down at me, eyes flicking to my lips. “I came to apologize.”

  Did I hear that right?

  “Really?”

  He nodded, checking to make sure Flynn wasn’t eavesdropping.

  “Sharing is new to me. It’s new to all of us but it doesn’t excuse my actions.”

  My fingers reached up to brush black hair from his forehead. “Can you share?”

  The beating of my heart thundered in my ears as I waited for his response. Never had I been so afraid of the truth. After having him, I wasn’t sure I could give him up. If he said no, what did that mean for us?

  He dropped his forehead to mine, closing his eyes and blowing out a frustrated breath. “I can try.”

  I bit my lip, searching his eyes. “What happens if you can’t?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “I’ll walk away, I guess.”

  My eyes closed, fighting back tears. It had to work. Otherwise I’d leave. There was no point in me staying if it meant they wouldn’t be together. They were family. How could I stay knowing I’d torn them apart?

  A feather-light touch wiped away the lone tear sliding down my cheek. “That won’t happen.”

  His words didn’t console me. I didn’t ask him to promise because in my experience, people broke promises all the time.

  “Oh good. You can help.” Flynn’s voice startled me.

  Bron released me, grabbing the paint bucket Flynn thrust at him. He cast a weak smile at me before following Flynn to the side of Mrs. Draper’s house.

  My shoulders tensed when something thumped to the ground behind me. Spinning and wielding the washrag like a knife, I searched for whoever thought sneaking up on me was a good idea. The rag wouldn’t be much use against a broken fence, half of which had fallen over, landing on the overgrown grass.

  Great. One more thing we needed to fix for the old coot.

  A whistle sounded from the porch. Mrs. Draper had taken her hair out of the curlers and changed into a dark blue dress, one more suited for a ball than a morning spent on the porch.

  “That man is banging.”

  I snorted. She had no idea.

  In a strange sort of peace offering, Shawn helped Flynn and me repair the fence the next afternoon. With the two men handy, I snuck up to sit beside Mrs. Draper on the porch swing. My sore muscles were thankful for the break—I’d been working out twice as hard, needing an outlet for all the tension riddling my body. I took a deep breath of cool air. Sunlight hadn’t hit the porch yet as it had only risen behind her house, lingering near the halfway point for morning and afternoon, barely warming the forest.

  She gave me an approving smile, winking at me when she handed me a glass of fresh lemonade.

  “I tell you, I’ve got the best view in all of Forest City.” Her foot kicked off the ground, starting the swing.

  I snorted and all of a sudden lemonade burned my nostrils.

  “You should really look into that cough, you look like an ass when you hack like that,” she said, shooting a frown at me as I continued to struggle for air. She turned back and continued to ogle the men.

  Goddess, the woman was old enough to be my great-grandmother, yet here she was, staring at Flynn’s ass like some horny teenager. Though, I couldn’t really blame her. Flynn was good-looking. Shawn wasn’t half bad either, and it took all my willpower not to ogle him. When he bent over to pick up one of the fence rails, I may have given his ass an appreciative glance.

  The swing began to slow. Their biceps flexed and their shoulders strained when they lifted the giant piece of wood. Goddess above, they were hot. Literally and figuratively: sweat drenched their shirts, making the material cling in all the right places. Desire unfurled in my stomach, the first warning sign that something was wrong.

  I shook my head, frowning and narrowing my eyes. The swing had completely stopped; my foot pushed on the porch, jolting the swing back into motion. What the hell was wrong with me? I had plenty of men to ogle and objectify, why was I doing it to Flynn and Shawn? Memories strained as I tried to recall my last menstruation . . . Which was about two weeks ago.

  Ah-ha! Everything made sense again. Ovulation always made me irrationally horny, and biceps were my weakness. Thank the goddess I hadn’t gone over and traced Shawn’s with my tongue like my desperate vagina wanted me to.

  Mrs. Draper let out a shuddering breath when they finished. Both of them whisked their damp shirts over their heads. This had to be the most action she’d seen in the last fifty years. Their hands rested on their hips, and they smiled at one another like they’d just given birth to a baby. A baby split rail fence.

  Hopping up from my seat on the swing, I followed Mrs. Draper as she hobbled down the stairs and toward the men, two glasses of fresh lemonade in hand. They thanked her, beaming with pride as she surveyed their work. I pretended not to notice when her eyes skated down Flynn’s stomach, lingering on the V.

  Flynn had stretched his arms overhead, glancing up at the sky and letting out a loud breath. “I love working with wood. Finishing is proba
bly the most satisfying feeling in the world.”

  Mrs. Draper mumbled something that sounded like oh my and fanned herself. Suddenly the ground gained my attention. My shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. Shawn nudged my side with his elbow, causing me to lose the ability to keep my mouth closed. The guffaw I’d let out drew Flynn’s gaze.

  “What?” he asked, shaking his head at the snort I’d let out.

  Shawn chuckled low, taking way too much pleasure in the situation.

  “Nothing,” I managed to stutter. “I’ve got to go get ready.”

  “For what?” Flynn lifted his chin at me, his way of saying tell me the details of the job.

  Right, so he still didn’t know about the mark I’d kept from him.

  “I have a date.” The lie slipped easily over my tongue.

  “Yeah, after sunset. Are your legs that hairy?” Shawn raised a brow.

  “Actually, it’s the pits that need some TLC. See you later.” I lifted my hand to wave, stopping awkwardly before I could raise it all the way. If I extended my arm any further, they’d see that the pits did not need extra attention, and they already stared at me with varying degrees of confusion. Flapping my hand back and forth instead of waving like a normal person, I hurried away from them. My eyes closed when I’d gotten far enough from her house. The pits? Lying had never been a strength of mine.

  When I thought it safe, I circled back and headed toward Forest City. Operation figure shit out (I couldn’t think of a better name) was under way.

  Ezme rushed down the winding trail toward her first class, Defensive Combat. I bumped into her, almost knocking her to the ground.

  “Sorry.” My voice rose an octave, feigning embarrassment as I tried to look shocked—eyes widening, lips pulling together in surprise, that sort of thing. I’d left Mrs. Draper’s in a rush, hurrying to accidentally bump into Ezme.

  In a matter of seconds, her features were etched into my mind. Dark hair and mocha skin like Noah. Almond-shaped, startling green eyes. Her lashes were long and she had cheekbones I’d kill for. She was a few inches taller than me but that was to be expected: most people were.

  “No harm done.” She smiled at me and continued on at a near run.

  With part one of “figure shit out” completed, I began to plan my next steps. Now that I knew exactly what she looked like, I could get to work on figuring out her story. Something that would take time and patience.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  After an uneventful afternoon shift at the muffin shop, Ezme headed to the Log Inn, the small cottage she and her companion were staying at. Once she went inside, I slunk over to the side of the cottage, doing my best to not look suspicious. A window allowed me to look into the dining area of the inn. Ezme pulled out a worn barstool, sitting down next to . . . Flynn?

  What in the cursed waters was he doing here? Had he heard about the bounty somehow? Of course he had, why else would he be here? He laughed at something Ezme said, both of them watching the owner of the inn and the bartender, who also happened to be Ezme’s companion, argue.

  Why were they acting like friends? If he was here to pick up the mark, he could just grab her now. I knew why I hadn’t taken her yet, but what was he waiting for?

  The sun had sunk low enough that the window reflected the light. I squinted against the harsh glare, determined to stay as long as needed to figure out what was going on. Even if it took all night. All night? Shit. I’d forgotten about Corban. Abandoning my investigation, I turned to run toward home.

  Only an hour remained before I had my date with Corban. Scrubbing my arms with soap to get the dirt off, I cursed myself for forgetting. After I finished getting ready, I waited for Corban in the kitchen, my stomach fluttering with excitement. I’d cleaned up in record time, desperately hurrying so I could wait in suspense for twenty minutes. Goddess, I hated that my punctuality forced me to finish way before I needed to.

  “Where is he taking you?” Sloan asked over his shoulder. He was cooking dinner for everyone else.

  “Honestly, I have no idea.”

  He smirked before turning back to the food. “You look nervous.” He said it so softly, like he was giving me an opportunity not to respond if I wanted to pretend like I hadn’t heard him.

  “He’s intense.”

  Sloan let out a soft laugh, turning the heat down on the vegetables before coming to sit with me. His dark red hair had grown out since we first met and he pushed the strands off his face before crossing his arms over his chest, biceps flexing.

  “That he is. What are you worried about?”

  I lifted a shoulder. “Nothing. Everything. I don’t know . . .” I trailed off, wondering how Corban would feel about me talking to Sloan about how I felt about him. “He’s so daunting but in an exciting way, you know?”

  He shook his head, running a hand over his scruff. “Are you scared?”

  I licked my lips, meeting his gaze. “No.” And I wasn’t, not even in the slightest.

  Sloan pushed back from the table, going to check on the food. “Well, then you better go to him. He’s coming up the path.”

  My heart contracted, a shiver of delight running down my spine. I stood, pushed in the chair and dropped a kiss on Sloan’s cheek.

  “Thanks.”

  Sloan caught my hand as I stepped away, spinning me back to him. I tilted my head to look at him, brows raising when his lips lightly brushed mine.

  “You’re welcome,” he said, releasing me just as quickly and turning back to the stove as though nothing had happened.

  My fingers touched my lips.

  “Winter?”

  I jolted when I heard Corban’s voice, turning toward him in a daze. He smiled, eyes flitting to Sloan before zeroing in on me once more. In a matter of seconds, he read the situation, and didn’t seem upset about it. I headed toward Corban.

  “Have fun,” Sloan called after us.

  I muttered a quick thanks, still in shock over the kiss. Chaste as it had been, he was the last person I expected that sort of behavior from.

  Corban mounted a horse, holding out a hand for me. “I hope you don’t mind heights.”

  “I think I’ll manage,” I said with a laugh, getting onto the back end of the saddle.

  The horse jolted into a fast trot, nearly knocking me off. I grabbed Corban’s waist.

  “Now, now, Winter. No need to get handsy.”

  “You did that on purpose.”

  He hummed, not denying it.

  “Where are we going?”

  “You’ll see soon enough.”

  I sighed, settling into the saddle and loosening my hold on him. We rode through a section of the forest I had yet to explore, the trees shielding us from the worst of the heat. After a while Corban stopped the horse, hopping off and leading her over to a tree before tying the rein around a branch. My feet hit the lush ground before he could help me off.

  “This is not what I expected,” I said, glancing around an empty forest.

  He chuckled, grabbing my hand and leading me to the base of a large tree. Someone had nailed pieces of wood into the trunk to make a ladder. My gaze followed the boards up, and up, and up.

  “No.”

  “No? Winter, this is the oldest tree in the forest. Do you know how romantic this is?”

  Crossing my arms and stepping away from the trunk, I shook my head.

  “I’m not climbing up there.”

  His smile fell. “Oh. You’re afraid of heights?”

  “Not generally, but this surpasses what I’m comfortable with. There isn’t even a rope. What happens if I fall?”

  “I didn’t think you were clumsy.”

  I narrowed my eyes on him. “I’m not.”

  “So, what’s the problem?”

  “Don’t bait me,” I scolded him, even though the prideful part of me was already rising to the challenge.

  “I’m not. I just didn’t expect someone as tough as yourself to be afraid of a tree.”

 
; Letting out a huff of air, I shouldered past him, staring up. I could do this. Easy-peasy. All I had to do was stay focused and avoid looking down. No problem. I started up the ladder, relieved when my sweaty palms didn’t cause an issue. The higher I got, the smaller the boards got. I’d climbed high enough I could see the platform at the top. My neck ached from looking up, but I refused to glance down. Somewhere along the way, I heard Corban start up, going much faster than I had. Not wanting to have him breathing down my neck while I climbed, I pushed myself to go faster.

  Rung after rung, I made my way toward the top. Grabbing for the final one, my hand slipped, missing the hold. My feet were still planted on the board below but my arms wrapped around the trunk to keep from falling. A shaky breath rattled out of my chest.

  “Are you okay?” Corban asked from right below me. Despite my rush, he’d caught up.

  “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  “You’re right there. Just one more step up.”

  I nodded, moving my hands over the rough bark until I felt the board. All the air rushed out of my lungs when I pulled myself onto the platform, lying on my back and covering my eyes with my arm. I heard Corban shimmy up and felt him kneel next to me.

  “You know what I learned today?”

  I moved my arm so I could peer at him. “What?”

  “You’re a tree hugger.”

  He flinched away when I kicked at him, laughing at how stupid he was being.

  “Whoa, whoa. I thought your kind were peaceful.”

  “Shut up,” I growled, sitting up and brushing my fingers through my hair. When I had enough courage to glance around, my eyes widened. Corban had prepared a dinner at the top of the tallest tree in the forest. He sat on a blanket near the edge of the platform, patting the open space next to him.

  “Come sit with me.”

  On hands and knees, I crawled over to the blanket, not yet brave enough to stand. From up here, we could see the entire canopy of the forest. Our tree was a good six feet taller than the rest, so even though some of the taller trees surrounded us, we still sat above them. The air was a hazy orange, the setting sun painting the sky in lush hues of pink, purple, and red. A few birds flew over the trees, diving down once in a while and disappearing into the inner workings of the branches.