Going Wild (The Wild Ones Book 2)(39)

Chapter 16



Wild Ones Tip #214

Don’t ask questions. Just go with it.

Helmet may or may not be necessary.



KYLIE



“Hold this,” I tell Liam, handing him my bag before heading to the trooper car and popping the hood.

“What’re you doing?” He eyes my tool that is a handmade contraption with squirrel teeth.

The trooper is talking to some people near the docks at the bar. The bar that is boarded up like it’s been closed for several years, when only yesterday it was busy.

“Keep a lookout,” I tell him, gesturing to the side of the building that hides me from sight, but also causes me to lose sight of the trooper as I get to work on his car.

He goes to peer around the corner before looking back at me. “Seriously!” he whisper-yells. “What are you doing?”

“Have you ever watched Super Troopers?” I ask absently, running the tool over a battery cable. When it pops, I move onto another.

“Yeah,” he says, confused as he looks toward me.

“Forget everything you learned about troopers from that movie, because they’re actually—usually—pretty smart. Which means you can’t just cut the wires on a car. They’ll know a person did it. But, you make them think an animal did it, and they get really annoyed.”

I flash him a grin as I quietly shut the hood.

“Step one, pests gone wild on battery cords.”

He looks back around the corner, then hisses out a breath before darting toward me. I giggle while racing beside him through the short patch of woods to where his Jeep is parked.

“So that’s it?” he asks.

I shake my head as we both get in.

“Nope. Step two is make them think they’ve got a disease. That’ll come once the others arrive.”

“What kind of disease?” he muses.

I shrug as he cranks his Jeep and starts driving us away.

“Not shooting for anything in particular,” I tell him.

He just smiles contently as he continues to drive us toward his house, and I stare at him, wondering how in the world he’s taking everything so easily. I’m still trying to wrap my head around him being here.

I finally cut my gaze away when his grin grows, possibly noticing my less-than-subtle staring fit.

He turns onto his road, and I pick at my nails just to have something to do.

“I don’t have my painting supplies,” I finally say on an exhale, my nerves etching up the closer we get to his house. “I can’t be somewhere without my—”

“I have all the painting materials you could need. Also have a pottery wheel and plenty of supplies. Also have random shit everywhere in the garage-turned-shop that you could use for sculpture assembly. I’ve been collecting anything unique since you left, just in case you ever rolled back into my life and needed shit to do a sculpture with.”

The staring resumes as I study his grinning profile.

“Why?” is the only word that comes out of my mouth.

As he parks behind his cabin, he turns his eyes on me. “I told you already that I wanted you with me as often as possible. So I tried to get everything you could possibly want or need. I remember every detail of those three weeks like it was yesterday. Every small fragment of information you shared was filed away and saved for later use.”

He suddenly turns and gets out of the Jeep, but I sit here an extra few seconds, breathing in and out, trying not to slide head first down that slippery slope.

He’s waiting patiently by the open back door when I finally get out and make my way to him.

It’s barely been a whole day since I found out he’s living in my town. I wasn’t supposed to have to figure out if I’m stubborn or stupid so soon.

“What about your family? Don’t they still live in LA?” I ask conversationally, trying to remind my heart that he has zero ties here and plenty of ties elsewhere as I walk inside his house.

That is full of my artwork.

In fact, only my artwork is hanging on the walls, which is weird, considering his extensive art collection he once had. I really wanted to say something earlier, but I was too caught off guard by it all to speak without being stupid.

Loki is proudly sitting in the main room as well, demanding attention from anyone who enters.

The door shuts, and I look over my shoulder to see him leaning against it, his eye serious as he stares at me.

“When I came up with that bit of technology I told you about, I suddenly had more money than I could ever spend. And it just kept coming in. Then I came up with more technology that changed the way phones are today. That meant even more money.”

The open-floor plan has the living room and kitchen open to each other, and I sit down at the bar on the living room side, watching him as he moves to the fridge on the kitchen side.