Going Wild (The Wild Ones 2)

She just grins. “She really will like them, but why’d you have to buy so many?”

“She had all these catalogues,” I grumble. “She circled her favorites. I bought all the ones circled, since she left the catalogues behind.”

“That is so fucking sweet,” she says on an exaggerated sigh, and I narrow my eyes as I point at her in warning.

“Not a word about this.”

“Right. I won’t let her know how pathetic you really are. You can keep all your cool points, because I’m an excellent secret keeper,” she quips, not even looking back as she skips out the door.

Lilah just thinks she’s not as annoying as the other two Vincents. Most of the time, she’s worse.

I shut the closet door, and then walk out and shut the guest room door behind me. Just as I head back into the kitchen, Kylie is walking out of the bedroom, as Lilah goes on.

She turns to look at her in confusion. “You haven’t found a shirt yet?” Kylie calls.

“Liam pulled me aside to show me his dick. Benson’s is bigger,” Lilah is quick to say, and the color drains from my face.

Kylie bursts out laughing, and I immediately relax. Damn Vincent. Why did I ask her for help instead of Penny?

I’m way too on edge, feeling an expiration date that isn’t really here.

“You okay?” Kylie asks me when she sees my face.

Forcing myself to calm down, I give her what I hope is a genuine-looking smile and not one of manufactured tension.

“Yeah. You ready? I’m not sure how I feel about surprises, but…you can talk me into anything,” I tell her, aiming for charming and not stupid.

She grins. “Lock up, Lilah,” she calls behind her.

“I’ll do it as soon as I get finished with your vibrator,” Lilah deadpans.

Sometimes I can’t tell when she’s joking or when she’s serious. Does Kylie have a vibrator here? Pretty sure I cover all those needs.

Kylie just laughs and leads me out. I try to stop acting like a damn spaz before I ruin this thing with my fear of ruining things.

Damn frustrating woman.

What the actual hell is wrong with me?

Why am I panicking this much?

Her fingers twine with mine, and some of that panic dies down. Things are fine.

Just fine.

***

“What’s this?” I ask, confused as we tie off to a tree and start climbing up a hillside where a dilapidating old bridge is.

“The Nickels are just beyond this bend. Their daddy is full-blooded Cherokee, and he used to live on Reservation, but he moved out here years ago to be with their momma, who was born a Wild One,” she states randomly. “Even though she’s of Irish descent, she adopted his heritage to the extreme to show her support of Native American culture. She’s a little wacky, but she has a huge heart. They also bought all our moonshine distilleries a while back when we got tired of the operation, and that’s how they make the bulk of their money now.”

“Okay…” I’m not really sure what else to say to that.

“The Wilders are more complex. Their dad was wild in the wrong way, and got himself killed when they were little, while he was off on a bender somewhere in Arizona with some other woman,” she says with a sad smile. “Momma Wilder, as we all call her, never wavered. She held strong for her kids, and carried on the name like it was always hers and never his. You already know about all the pot they grow.”

I run my hand along my jaw, debating on whether or not I should tell her. Deciding I’d rather piss her father off than continue to lie to her about what I know, I come clean.

“Speaking of Greta Wilder,” I say on a sigh. “There’s something you should know about her and your dad. They—”

“They’re dating?” she asks, a small curve of her lips hinting at a mocking grin.

My brow furrows. “You know?”

“Of course I know. Most all the Wild Ones have figured it out, except maybe Nila. You should see the way they look at each other when they think no one is paying attention.”

Now I’m just confused.

“How do you know?” she asks me, tilting her head.

“I sort of walked up on them when they were rattling the hunting shack on my land. And—”

She bursts out laughing, much to my surprise. Since her father wanted her not to know, I assumed that meant he was worried about how she’d take the news of him moving on.

Kylie rolls her eyes. “They sneak around like teens, but we know. The rest of the town doesn’t know. It’s not local knowledge, since it’s against town rules for two Wild Ones—no matter their age—to date. Tomahawk problems.”

My grin steadily grows.

“So I’ve been carrying that around for nothing?”

“Pretty much,” she says with an impish grin. “But don’t let Dad know I know.”