Wilder (The Wild Ones 3)

Piper makes a smothered squeal, hands going to her mouth as her eyes go wide in her head, because the stupid fuck hurls the hatchet in our direction. Before it can reach us, Piper drops like dead weight to the ground, covering her head as she screams.

The hatchet stabs the thin tree beside me, cracking the wood loudly, as it wedges in there real damn tight.

Fucking hell. I thought she wasn’t a screamer. I think she only screams louder when she sees the hatchet has hit its mark. I’m not sure why a hatchet in a tree warrants all those high pitches.

Lenny cringes along with me, and I glare at him again.

“Can this wait? I’m on a date,” I tell him.

His eyes widen like he’s just noticed the soft girl he’s effectively terrified.

“My bad. Hey. Nice to meet you. Friends call me Lenny,” Lenny tells her as he hurriedly moves in our direction and crouches down in front of her, sticking out his hand.

Piper gawks at him like he’s the loony motherfucker he is. He grins at her, never reading a situation very well.

“Everyone calls you Lenny,” I bite out when she actually reaches up and finally shakes his hand.

“Everyone’s my friend,” he chirps.

“It’s your only fucking name,” I remind him.

“Lenny Paul Nickels. I’d say that means I have three names,” he dutifully informs me, still grinning like a sly fox at my girl.

Since she’s wearing my clothes, clearly that means she’s accepted her fate.

I don’t particularly like her touching him. Lenny gets a lot of damn girls. Not girls from Tomahawk, because they know him too well, but other girls.

I don’t know how. It’s never made sense. It’s baffled all of us since the days puberty began. He’s one Wild One who has no trouble at all with the opposite sex, even though the Nickels have shit for brains.

All of them.

She wastes no time ripping her hand back away, so the jealousy ebbs quickly.

“I’m Piper,” she tells him as I help her back to her feet.

I smirk again when she moves to be a lot closer to my side, and Lenny stands as he pockets his hands, rocking back on his heels.

“Is throwing hatchets and challenging each other to a duel as normal to the two of you as you make it seem?” she asks uneasily.

I knew he’d make me look bad.

My arm goes around her shoulders, and she seems more relieved than amused this time. She even puts her arm around my waist, and Lenny’s eyebrows almost hit his hairline.

“You’re really his date?” he asks.

“So we’re just going to skip right over my question. Got it,” she mumbles as she glances over at the shop next to us…and jumps.

Her hand squeezes on my side, but I’ve already returned my attention to the dumbfounded Nickel. It’s not like I can do anything about the nosy townies of Tomahawk.

To them, she’s an exotic creature if she’s wrapped around me. It’s the first time they’ve ever seen anything like it.

“She’s really my damn date,” I tell Lenny, glaring a little. “Why’s that so hard to believe?”

“Because you’re you,” he answers too quickly, eyes roaming over her like he’s looking for a visible defect. “Do you like explosives?” he asks her.

She’s silent, eyes on the shop still, seeming to be lost from the conversation now.

“She a dummy or something?” Lenny stage-whispers, warily inspecting her now.

“I’m a damn good catch. I just get overlooked a lot. I have game,” I grind out, wishing I could tie his feet to the back of my Jeep and drag him around.

I know better. Fancy girls won’t like that sort of thing.

His phone starts ringing, and he absently answers it.

“Yeah?” is the only word he says for a minute, eyes still on Piper like she’s a mythical, dangerous creature of some sort.

He hands me his phone. “It’s your mom.”

I don’t even bother asking how she knows I’m here with Lenny right now as I take the phone.

“Ma, you’re starting to scare me with how often you do this now,” I tell her, turning my head away.

The second-to-last thing I want is for Piper to think I’m a momma’s boy in his late twenties. The last thing I want to do is piss off my crazy ass momma.

“I put some candles in the house. All you gotta do is light them. I spread around some rose petals, and left some bump-and-grind music in the CD player—just press play. There’s some of that fruity booze in the fridge. There’s also some fun chocolate in the kitchen—my treat—”

“Ma, you’re officially out of your mind,” I state dryly, shutting my eyes as I take a calming breath.

“I poked holes in all your condoms. Penny convinced me it’d be wrong to do it without telling you, so I couldn’t do it without feeling guilty,” she drones on.