Going Wild (The Wild Ones Book 2)(45)

“We’ll be laughable fools if we go through with this,” Chester goes on.

“It has to be put to a vote,” Bill says with his fist raised toward Chester.

Chester brings up both fists next to his short white beard. “The Wild Ones shouldn’t get a vote!” Chester shouts.

I expect violence, so I shift over in my seat a little. However, this standoff goes on for a few minutes, both of them arguing, and I notice some people even yawn.

“We like romance too!” Hale decides to argue…weirdly. “We even like poetry and shit.”

“Roses are red. Violets are blue. God made us pretty. What happened to you?” Killian drawls, swiveling his head toward Chester, who glares at him.

I’m actually lost now, since I don’t know how we went from talking about a manly challenge to talking about poetry and romance. I really hope it’s not beard related.

I legit can’t grow a beard.

“The Wild Ones did the beard challenge for nine long years. The Wild Ones ended the nightmarish challenge as well. So they deserve to be in the challenge committee until they accidentally blow something up or break it beyond repair,” Vick says on another long-suffering sigh, as though he’s explained this numerous times.

“Then let’s vote,” Bill states emphatically. “Stop wasting time.”

“Just explain to me why this is romantic and manly?! It’s feminine and degrading!” Chester argues.

“My Penny has wanted to live in a musical since she saw Funny Face, though it’s only for the dancing and not the singing—be glad for that. The least I can do is make her dream come true. All the women would love it.”

“Lilah won’t,” Benson grumbles from my other side. “I have to do this for nothing.”

Do what?

The suspense has me looking like a sucker on the edge of my seat, my eyes bouncing like a tennis ball as I wait to figure out just how crazy and insanely dangerous this challenge is going to be, while also wondering why Chester is horrified by it.

And what do musicals have to do with anything?

“The chicks will totally dig it,” says the balding Wilder, shrugging a shoulder, even as Kai Wilder continues to shave his head one long, deadly swipe at a time.

“I fail to see how this is a wise thing to—”

Those words are cut off by something that sounds too damn much like a real grizzly bear, as one of the other Nickel brothers opens his mouth like he’s roaring. Because he is roaring. That bear sound just came from him.

The guy talking ends his words on a squeal, and both Nickel brothers break into hysterics.

“Damn Wild Ones,” Vick grumbles too close to the microphone, pinching the bridge of his nose. Without looking, he adds, “Fine. Who here wants to river dance every weekend—”

“And Holiday,” Bill interjects, holding up a finger as he interrupts Vick.

I’m sorry…river dance?! What the hell?

Vick takes a calming breath before gritting his teeth and continuing. “Every weekend and holiday, whenever they hear Lindsey Stirling playing over the town speakers, who wishes to vote that all men must river dance?”

“Why does it have to be a female violinist?” a peculiar looking short fellow asks from the front. “I play violin too.”

“She has more talent in her pinky nail than you do in your entire body,” Bill says dismissively. “Only the best for our women,” he adds.

“Agreed,” George Malone says from the other side of Benson.

“Just vote,” Vick grumbles.

Bill’s hand raises. Several other hands go in the air.

My hand lifts reluctantly, because I can’t fucking river dance. This is not why I signed on. Did someone miss the part where I’m just a nosy observer?

Bill starts counting hands anxiously, and Chester is counting as well, their voices and counting out of sync and tumbling over each other.

“It’s a tie, so it doesn’t count!” Chester shouts, at the same time Bill shouts, “We win by two! River Dance Challenge accepted!”

Then the two turn and glare at each other, both arguing the other one can’t count, and then take education-quality jabs.

I sometimes wonder what normal people are doing in their lives now that I’ve moved to Tomahawk, land of the crazy people who think only four families are crazy.

Vick mutters a curse and starts counting hands, and finally says, “Majority vote by one.”

Chester is an angry guy, I realize, when he turns his scowl on me.

“Consequences,” Bill happily states, causing a melody of groans to emerge. “If you’re in town when the music plays, and you don’t river dance, you have to swim across the lake in a tutu while singing Girls Just Want To Have Fun.”