Becoming A Vincent (The Wild Ones Book 1)(30)

"I love you," I tell him, sounding all sweet and stuff.

"You're still not driving my boat ever again."

Yeah, he hides the keys these days.

"But you love me too," I remind him.

I feel his smile. "Yeah. I do." But as he parks the boat near one of the  town docks, he turns to roll his eyes at me. "You're still not driving  my boat."

I mock a pout, and he bends, kissing my lips as his fingers thread  through my hair. The boat bumps the dock, reminding us to tie off.

We each tie off an end, and I haul myself onto the shorter dock with  ease. Ours have to be higher than the town limits, because of flooding  issues.

Our fingers lace together as we walk toward the town hall where the  skull-and-crossbones flag is flying high, something you rarely ever see  unless there's an emergency.                       
       
           



       

Just as we walk in, Benson's breath rushes out. He looks around as if in awe.

"What?" I ask, tugging him toward our section.

His feet hesitate before he finally starts moving, his eyes still shifting around the room.

"I've never seen so many in one place before."

I laugh under my breath. "Because the Wild Ones aren't allowed to be  together in one place unless there are special circumstances or  sanctioned events. But when those sirens sound and that flag flies … you  don't resist the call of the wild."

I wink, and he rolls his eyes, getting over his momentary awe state as we take a seat in my section.

Vick, our poor, lone officer, stands behind the podium, banging the gavel to get our attention.

"I'll keep this brief," he says as my brothers quickly join us, sitting  down beside me, "since you all can't be together too long without mayhem  quickly following. The troopers are coming into town in a few weeks."

Everyone groans, and he bangs the gavel again.

"We know this happens every summer. You get too rowdy, vacationers cause  a fuss, and before you know it, the troopers drop in. It's rarely ever  the same ones twice, because, let's face it, you run them off real good.  But remember the rules: don't be seen, and don't get caught doing  anything illegal. Make them go away without alerting them to the way our  town works. Otherwise, we'll never get rid of them, and no one wants  that."

He clears his throat. Considering he's the local pot distributor, he's always worried about trooper season.

Don't judge. You know by now we aren't conventional.

None of the locals like troopers. It interferes with our  not-always-lawful way of life. In Tomahawk, you make money the best way  you can. We do things a little under the government's radar. Nothing  harder than pot allowed in town. Business licenses are iffy at best. And  you might find a few unlicensed moonshine distilleries up and down the  lake too.

Though it's legal to have pot in Washington … I'm almost positive it's not  legal to grow it. And we don't exactly have dispensaries where taxes  get a big cut. We have Vick.

Troopers make life hard for about a week. Two weeks has been the record.

"Who wants to start the pool?" Eric Malone asks.

"Two days!" someone shouts.

"One week," I say, waving a ten in the air.

"You can arrange the pool via internet. Not in here," Vick interrupts, and I lower my ten as Benson grins.

"Now onto the matter of the Vincents."

His eyes cut toward us, and Benson stiffens.

Hale stands, smoothing his hair back as he flashes a smile at us. His gaze returns to Vick.

"You sure you want to do this?" Vick asks.

"He does have a water cannon," Killian says as he stands next to Hale.

Benson goes stiffer, and I bounce in my seat with excitement.

"Benson Nolans," Vick starts, looking around at everyone else, "has apparently gone wild."

Wolf howls erupt around the room, and Benson mutters a curse under his  breath. He's now officially among the Wild Ones, which means he'll be  getting hit with paintballs, and various other things.

"Instead of building a fifth corner amendment, he's joining the Vincents, since he and Lilah will be getting married."

Hey!

"We actually haven't decided on that yet," I interject.

"You'll be getting married," Vick says dismissively.

"That's going to make their side bigger," someone points out-I think it's Lenny Nickel.

"We're the smallest corner," Hale says dismissively.

"Because we're the youngest addition," Killian adds, "we have room to grow."

"But the Vincents sprout in multiples," Kylie Malone says, winking over at me as I roll my eyes.

She knows I fear this.

"God help us all when they procreate," someone in the back says-not a Wild One.

"It's already done. Benson will become a Vincent when he marries Lilah-"

"I'm sorry, but what?" Benson asks, his eyebrows going up as I giggle to myself.

"You'll become a Vincent," Vick repeats. "You'll have to change your  name. You know we can't have other names in the four corners. It'll  confuse things."

"We're simple people," I drawl, grinning as Benson narrows his eyes down at me.

"Benson will become a Vincent, and be an addition to the dead chipmunk corner," Vick declares with finality.

"Apparently I don't get a say in this," Benson mutters.                       
       
           



       

"Just remember you love Tomahawk because of all the crazy," I say, patting his hand.

He tosses his arm around me as I lean into his side.

Vick points his gavel at Benson. "Install a flag immediately. You're officially a Wild One."

And that's our story.

We're a crazy, somewhat bizarre, certainly wacky town that makes life work and lives it to the fullest.

We're fierce.

We're loyal.

We're occasionally destructive.

We're undoubtedly wild.

Because we're the Wild Ones.

And we're just getting started.





The End



For a sneak peek at Liam and Kylie's book, keep reading.





GOING WILD



The Wild Ones #2



Coming soon …





PROLOGUE





LIAM



People often ask me what in the hell convinced me to move to Tomahawk,  Washington, where the four corners of crazy are known as the Wild Ones.  They want to know what possessed me to live next door to the  Vincents-the same ones who think it's acceptable to fish with dynamite  if the fish aren't biting the hooks they so generously attempt to use.

They want to know why I ever thought I'd make it in the woods with bugs,  bears, and other things that want to take a bite out of me.

I tell them all the same thing … it's a long, crazy story.

And of course, I blame one girl.





Chapter 1



Wild Ones Tip #293

Watch for Wild Ones. Shit usually blows up in our wake.





KYLIE



"You crazy sons of bitches!" I yell as the smoke slightly clears from  where Hale Vincent has just accidentally blown up our dock.

His eyes are wide as he heaves himself out of the lake, his terribly long beard dripping with water.

"That was an accident!" he calls out. "I was aiming for the stump and tripped!"

Killian, his brother, points to the said stump that is lifting out of the water.

"It messed up our props the other day!" Killian tries to explain.

A grin spreads over my face when I hear the stampede of feet rushing this way.

"Better run, Vincents," I say with small smile.

Killian curses, trying to crank the boat, but he's too late.

Paintballs start flying, pelting the boys as they yelp and try to duck.  The tink tink tink is a beautiful sound as the paintballs rapidly crash  against the boat, while the army of Malones face off against two-thirds  of the Vincent triplets.

"We'll fix it!" Hale yells as Killian gasses the boat and drives them away from the dock … or what's left of it.

"Damn right they'll fucking fix it," my dad grumbles, walking over as  part of the dock breaks off and falls into the water, punctuating the  destructive wake of the Vincents.

He groans.

"Damn Vincents. If I hadn't loved their Momma and Daddy so much, I'd  kick their asses all day every day for the rest of my life."

I grin, knowing he's full of shit. He has a soft spot for the orphaned triplets. Just like the whole town does.

"It's not like we're much better," Eric points out helpfully.

"We're all the Wild Ones for a reason," Jason, another cousin of mine,  says, grinning. "Besides, this means we can pay them back."

Dad points his finger in Jason's face. "Do not blow up their dock. Bill  will never let me hear the end of it. Besides, Vick said he was going to  put a ban on explosives if we all kept using them so much."

Tomahawk problems. Gotta love them.

"You sure you want to go off to LA and miss all this?" Dad asks, his beard moving up, signaling the fact he's smiling.

Or so I assume.

Tomahawk-land of the bushy beards. Don't ask. Long story.