Wilder (The Wild Ones 3)

I also know my cheeks are on fire, because the guy isn’t even saying this shit to be rude or crass. He’s damn serious and trying to sound helpful.

My current emotions are a mixed bag: I find it all adorably crude, but also embarrassingly awkward.

“I have some potatoes to go with that deer,” I finally manage to say with a straight face, just as Kai exits.

I don’t want to think about what he’s doing.

“We’ve got sides too. We stopped at the store on the way. Guys are supposed to pay for the date,” Hale informs me with a bit of sternness.

I’m not sure what the protocol is for these sorts of situations, because this is a complete first for me.

“Do the men also do the cooking on the fresh-kill dates?” I ask hopefully.

He gives a firm nod of his head, and I can instantly tell Reese is grinning under that damn towel because her eyes crinkle at the corners ever so slightly. I’m just relieved I at least don’t have to cook Bambi. I can pretend to eat it later and spit it back out into my napkin.

I may go vegan after this trip.

“You have to know how to cook deer before you can ever cook it right,” Kai informs us from the front porch, as though he’s making an effort to be involved in date-night conversation.

What’d I do with that vodka? I have no choice but to risk hard liquor.

Hale puts all the pans he needs on the counter, and then he joins Kai outside, as I search for the missing bottle of vodka. As soon as the door shuts behind him, I whirl around and give my sister my widest eyes possible and throw my hands up in a what-the-fuck motion.

She snorts into the towel, her body definitely shaking with silent laughter, as she slides down to the ground in front of the ancient fridge.

I’m wearing my warmest, tightest thermal leggings under some other really adorable leggings that no self-respecting Kline would ever wear in public. I’ve had them for years as a small act of rebellion, and I finally wear them on a night when—

A very distinct, familiar scent wafts into the cabin when the door blows open, and I give my sister a horrified look as she shuts it back. Her eyes are just as wide, but I swear she’s trying once again to not laugh.

“Are they seriously smoking marijuana out there?” I whisper-yell.

She shrugs a shoulder and wipes the smile off her face. “I think it’s legal here.”

“But who smokes pot on a first date while skinning a deer?”

She quickly shuffles to the side when the door reopens, and Kai walks in, winks at me, and sucks on the blunt—I think it’s called a blunt anyway—that is hanging out of his mouth.

The stench of marijuana immediately fills the cabin as he walks over to the sink to wash his hands again, puffing more of the blunt without ever touching it with his bloody hands.

I don’t even know how to react, and schooling my features is seriously a lost cause for the night. I do make a conscious effort not to focus too much on the blood and give the blunt all my attention.

Even my sister, who is a master of deceiving the eye by never revealing what’s going on in her head, is struggling to keep a straight face. She can pretend to be fascinated by it all, but she’s just as scared as I am on the inside.

I confess, I knew we were sheltered but not to what extreme until tonight.

It takes me a moment to summon up the courage to ask the question I want to know most.

“Are you smoking weed?” I ask Kai to his back, trying to keep all the judgment out of my tone.

He starts drying his hands as he glances over his shoulder, grinning around the blunt. It really shouldn’t be a sexy expression, given the obvious.

I blame the fact I feel some deep sort of gratitude toward him that I find him even remotely charming in this moment. Those stupid little flutters in my stomach are a direct result of his selfless heroics and nothing else.

“Sorry,” he says as he pulls it from his mouth and wipes off the end. “Was I supposed to let you hit it first?”

Reese has to smother a sound, and then she quickly clears her throat, before starting to head outside. She likely remembers what they’re doing to Bambi and immediately turns back around, forced to endure this very awkward moment with me.

“Remember our new life goal,” she manages to say without laughing at me.

I stare blankly at the offering, and Kai holds it patiently.

“What’s that new life goal again?” I ask, not recalling anything about peer pressure being in the mix.

“Stop almost having fun.”