Going Wild (The Wild Ones Book 2)(20)

Hale unzips the duffel as I laugh under my breath, but my laughter dies when he pulls out something that looks like a damn machine gun.

“The hell?”

“Airsoft guns,” Killian pipes up. “Not as painful as a fucking paintball, but more ammo for a quicker attack.”

“For what?” I ask as he tosses one to me.

I catch it, hearing something rattle.

“For the wedding, of course,” Penny says. “Wild Ones always have the best weddings. I may not want crazy in my life daily, but on occasion, it hits the right spot.”

My smile slowly grows as I suddenly remember something.

The Wild Ones can’t all be in one place unless it’s a sanctioned gathering. Such as a Wild One’s wedding.

“Wear a chest plate under your clothes,” Hale adds.

“Why are you smiling like that?” Penny asks me.

Killian smirks. “Because he just realized what my sister’s wedding means.”

“What does it mean?” Penny asks, confused.

Killian shakes his head.

Hale distracts her, talking about their kidnapping plan for Benson and when she’s bringing the tux.

I focus on what this wedding means to me. It means I finally get my face-to-face with Kylie Malone.

Ready or not.





Chapter 9



Wild Ones Tip #321

Sometimes kidnapping is acceptable behavior if you’re friends with a Wild One.



KYLIE



“So what’s up?” Lilah asks as she meets me near the graveyard.

“Thought we’d go for a walk,” I tell her, grinning.

She shrugs as she joins me, but her eyes flit down to my dress.

“Fancy walking gear you have there.”

“Just left a friend’s house,” I lie, looping my arm through hers.

Two women approach us, take one long look at us, and turn to start racing in the other direction.

It happens when we’re together. No, I’m not offended.

I’d probably run too if I saw me and Lilah strolling up.

“Friend? As in a guy?”

I snort derisively. “You finally start getting laid, and now you assume everyone else is too.”

She waggles her eyebrows. “Beardless Tomahawk is a whole new world. Never know.”

A happy Lilah is a little more dangerous than a Lilah who isn’t getting laid. I’ve learned this recently…when she blew away half the Malones from the dock with one powerful water cannon she let her brothers use—her soon-to-be husband’s water cannon.

It really was hilarious, but that’s not the point.

Lilah and I are the only two female Wild Ones among the Malones and the Vincents. Our corners are the closest to each other. Obviously, I have to one up her.

I plan to get her back. Just as soon as I find something more awesome.

And yes, this is how we’re best friends.

“I didn’t get laid,” I finally say when she keeps staring at me expectantly.

She lets her shoulders hunch as we continue on the small trail that leads into the woods.

“You’ve been missing a lot these past four months. I’m a little surprised you wanted to take a walk,” she says hesitantly.

Yeah. Yeah.

I’ve been missing a lot in general. It’s only recently that I’ve decided to completely dive into my art and hide from the entire world until I paint him out of my system.

Liam Freaking Harper.

The bane of my existence.

The guy I see every time I break out my vibrator. His silky smooth face, devastating grin, and panty-melting body. Not to mention his voice, his words, his easy, laid-back attitude. And the fact he was a huge piece of my life in just a short period of time.

Yep. It’s bad.

“Been busy,” I say instead of spilling all that drivel.

“You only paint like that when you’re trying to escape something, so what gives?” Lilah asks, being more observant than usual.

“Nothing,” I lie with a shrug. “I also went to Seattle last month for two weeks for a showing there, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“That doesn’t explain why you’ve been hiding.”

“Sure it does,” I say, smiling.

She gives me an I-don’t-believe-you-one-bit look.

“Fine. Fine,” I groan. I’ve avoided this conversation for a year. I think it’s time to talk about it and just move on.

So, with a long sigh, I start explaining. “There was a guy back in LA last year, and for some reason, I can’t seem to stop thinking about him. I mean, it’s been an entire year. I’m fairly positive I only think about him more with each passing day.”

I mutter something about being stupid, and she grins. “What happened?”

“His girlfriend showed up.”

“Ouch,” she says, wincing.

“Oh, no worries. They had an open relationship, so she informed me it wasn’t awkward for me to be there while she was. And that it was okay if I fucked him. And then he told her he forgot about her.”