Going Wild (The Wild Ones Book 2)(54)

Laughing, he winks at me. “Just proving a point. At the end of the day, there are only four families of Wild Ones for a reason. No one else has it in them to take the risks we take for fun. Don’t guard your heart too much, Kylie. If a Vincent can fall in love, then so can a Malone.”

“So all this to take a dig at Chester and put me in competition with Lilah?” I ask incredulously.

He gives me a proud look that only leaves me groaning, then he chuckles as he walks away.

“Thanks for absolutely nothing,” I call to his back, tempted to flip him off, but then worrying he might come back and ground me or something.

I stay on the stool for a minute, then finally stand and snatch my backpack from the ground. That was an hour of my life I’ll never get back.

When my eyes come up, I see Jared leaning against the barn entrance, a look on his face that makes me realize he’s been eavesdropping.

“What?” I ask a little too defensively.

Does he know I’m desperate for them to threaten Liam? Am I that transparent?

“My parents never liked Tomahawk,” he states simply. “Not even a little.”

My eyebrows hit my hairline.

“Okay…”

“They hated the bugs, the wild animals, the small town, the limited amount of things to do.” He shrugs as he pockets his hands. “It stopped hurting when they left us behind instead of taking us with them. We still haven’t met our other siblings. Don’t really care to. I’m sure they’ve heard the worst about us.”

My lips purse, and I prop up as well. “They popped out four of you here, and your dad contributed to three kids there. Rabbits come to mind. Maybe they have more in common with wild animals than they realize.”

He snorts and rolls his eyes.

“The point is,” he goes on, “we reached the point when we were happy they were gone. The day we took the Malone name was the last time we looked back. George may be our uncle, but in all reality, he’s the best father we’ve ever had.”

“What does that have to do with the current price of eggs?” I ask, trying not to make a big deal of his confession, because I don’t want to make it weird.

Especially since he’s being real right now, and I came here for completely different reasons.

“If George thinks Liam is worth a shot, then I trust him. And you should too.”

He turns to leave, and I jog out to catch him.

“I’m already giving him a shot,” I tell him.

“No. You’re not,” he argues. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here asking your father to tell you what to do. You just thought he’d give you a different answer.”

He keeps walking fast, and I have to keep jogging to keep up with his long strides.

“You’re wrong,” I tell him, which causes him to stop and give me an unconvinced look. I start to tell him the true—and somewhat petty—reason I’m here, then realize how stupid he’ll feel for being nice and stuff, and decide against it. “I…wanted to hear my father’s opinion, because he’s always looked out for all of our best interests.”

He cants his head, studying me, and I bat my lashes.

“And?” he asks.

Grinning, I turn and head back toward the quad I borrowed from the house.

“And I hope you like Liam, because I’ll be bringing him out soon to see the family business,” I call behind me.

He groans, but when I turn to look back, he’s restraining a smile.

Shaking his head, he turns and walks away.

Clearly this day has not gone as planned, but at least I don’t have to worry about them killing him or anything. I guess that’s the silver lining.

And I can take Liam away from the Vincents since the Malones are being unusually nice for a change.





Chapter 21



Wild Ones Tip #522

Hell is probably wallpapered with our selfies. Just sayin’.



LIAM



“I didn’t realize you had a job,” I tell her as we turn into her father’s driveway.

We spent the entire weekend in bed. For the most part. And not just for the fun stuff. I think we tried to cram all the information about each other we could in a tiny span of time, without ever going so deep that it dragged down the conversation.

Apparently I still don’t know all her secrets, since this is coming as a hell of a surprise. She said let’s take a ride, and I went along. She waited until now to explain she had work. Work with her father and cousins.

“Have you seen my boot collection? You think my art pays for all that plus living expenses?” she asks around a derisive snort.

“It should. I paid a nice bit for that Loki piece, and it was worth a lot more,” I state warily as we pass her father’s house and continue down the long driveway.