25. Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-five
Remington James
I t’s the week for gifts for no good reason I guess; the bird necklace from Wilder, my frog babies from Cal and Charlie, then today Grady played a song he wrote for me. He is calling it ‘Artful Siren.’
‘My every waking moment I thank you…
You love me even when I taste like heartbreak,
I’ll tear away the old, start over for your sake…
Drawing me with lines I don’t see,
Pointing out ways to be free
My artful, artful siren…”
I made him play it again so I could record it. That smile when he looked up at me, after the starting chords… So freaking hot, I was singed. That man doesn’t understand the effect he has on people. I can’t wipe away the dazed look on my face.
There is no way I’m keeping this from Wilder. We can drool over it together. Although, my broody damn neighbor only circles Grady with civility since the night I thought we’d made considerable progress.
I’ll remember the night of Grady’s party blushing until I’m dead. But it was without restraint, just passion and chemistry. No way they’re forgetting it either.
Back to borderline friendly, with serious trust issues. On both sides.
I’d show my appreciation if I didn’t need to get a move on for work. Grady walks back to my cabin with me. Sweetly holding my hand, keeping me close. He makes fun of my new friends, the trio he calls them. “Why didn’t you give them rock n’ roll names?”
We’re close to the cabin when I notice that Droolius is out. Running at me along the shoreline from the lodge. “I can never tell when he might eat a sock or drag a whole downed wasp nest into the cabin. He kind of hates it inside. He totally can’t stand Winifred.”
“Who’s that?” Grady catches him gently by his collar, giving him a scratch on his neck. “You’re a naughty little rascal, kind of like your owner.” He gives me a shit eating grin.
“Mmm. She’s just the spirit living in our bathroom toilet or something. Seriously though, Droolius won’t go near the bathroom or into the kitchen now. He loves Wilder’s cabin though. He probably bribes him with treats.”
We find Natalie standing next to the oven when we get Droolius inside. “Whatcha doin’?” I ask her, offering my doggo friend his bone. It’s not often Nat is anywhere near the thing. Just as averse as our four-legged family member to the kitchen.
“I’m making cookie bars for Mitchell; his brother sent me the recipe. It was your aunt's.” She points at Grady.
Taking a break from tugging on Droolius' toy to entertain him, he looks over at Nat with a sad look. “Oh, yeah? I didn’t know Lala ever baked. She was busy running all over the countryside.” Does it ever bother him that Charlie and Mitchell were closer to Lala or knew things about her that he didn’t?
It would bug me.
I watch as Nat flips over a nine by thirteen glass pan then sprays the bottom with cooking spray. No, she did not! Good Lord. “Ummm, Nat?”
Grady’s mouth has dropped open. He bites his fist to stop himself from laughing. His widened eyes move my way, only making it next to impossible for me to keep from roaring.
“What? The recipe says to grease the bottom of the pan.” Her face is full of confusion over our reactions.
Maybe she should stick with blowjobs to cheer him up.
Seated across from a scowly Wilder, I shove a big spoonful of maple pecan ice cream in my mouth before I continue, “... a connection. There was Mia, Tera, Susanna, Sara, and Katie. They all had the necklace.” He’s not thrilled at all that Cal told me about it.
His exact words were, “Of course that pussywhipped fuck told you.”
“Shhh… stop that. You would’ve folded eventually, I’m very persistent.” Blowing him a kiss, I continue, “You like that about me.”
He doesn’t. But it’s part of the whole package so he’ll learn to.
He groans, putting his head down on the table. I barely hear his mumble, “Stoooop talking about this. Please for the love of God. Eat your ice cream.”
The cup of peanut butter cup ice cream sits melting untouched in front of him. I point my spoon at it. “You eat yours.”
He shakes his head with a sweet smile. “I only ordered this for you. I didn’t want any ice cream, but you insisted. So, I got the other flavor you talked yourself out of. Now you can have both.” He shoves it my way. This man! Not only is he dreamy to look at (Goddamn those long eye lashes and soulful eyes), but he’s endlessly considerate.
Was he like this with Sara? Nope. I can’t think about that.
“Tell me what Grady, Cal, and Charlie were like growing up.” He glares at me, sitting back with his arms folded across his chest. He thinks I’m going to back down from trying to figure out what Carlotta Marlow had for ‘evidence’, but I’m not. Aforementioned persistence. I have it in spades.
Relia knew that. She’d be gone for days and then have to hear my questions for hours about where she’d been.
“You’re relentless, you little vixen.”
That sounds about right.
“Well? Give me the details. Let’s figure out why she might have… incorrectly I add… thought they had anything to do with the accidental drownings here.” I dip my spoon into my ice cream, then Wilder’s. The sweet, salty, creamy mixture is so scrumptious that I moan.
He leans towards me, stopping inches from kissing me, his lids lowered slightly. His smirk making me want to close the distance. “You. Are. A. Tease.”
Ha. He should talk.
“Tell me what I want to know, and I’ll make it worth your while.” Not having touched him since the night of Grady’s party is working me the hell up.
“Fine. Not because you just said that… I’m not that easy to entice.” No frigging kidding. “Let’s see… the suspect list.” I kick him lightly under the table.
“No. We don’t call them that anymore.”
Rolling his eyes, he continues, “Grady was quiet unless he was around Sara or me. He was always musically talented, but he didn’t like to perform by himself.” He shrugs like that’s all he can tell me. Like I buy that after being friends for as long as they were.
“And?” Ooo, ice cream headache after scarfing that down too quickly. I stuff my napkin inside my cup. Wilder avoids looking at me. There’s a lot to unpack between them. Grady and Wilder.
“What are you looking to find out? Dumb little details like he was a vegetarian for over a year, because his dad hated it, or if he found a coin somewhere he’d keep it in a book marking where he discovered it when he was… nine, I think? Or that he hates pop because it’s fizzy?”
Seriously? He can’t keep holding off how he really feels. “That’s all good stuff. But I was thinking about connections… did he date Tera, she was your age, or was he involved with Susanna. Did he date anyone?”
Wilder goes on to tell me that there were always girls attracted to him, but nothing came of it. He didn’t think Grady knew Tera, but Susanna had followed Cal and Grady around. “He was close to Sara, but they were friends. That was it I think.”
“But… he liked you?”
The words don’t come without effort, “He was confused, and I didn’t help matters by messing with him.” He taps the table a couple of times, before looking back up at me. “It was hard enough to be the outcast in town because I had visions, and everyone knew about it. Coming out as bisexual would’ve been pure hell at that age. It wasn’t until I moved away to college that I was able to accept that about myself.”
There is a table of teenagers, which keep looking over and snickering. I know they must be discussing all the rumors, because it’s followed me everywhere since the Fourth of July. If I was here with Charlie or Cal, they’d make a scene addressing it, if it was Grady… well, they’d be falling all over themselves asking for pictures or autographs, I’d be forgotten. But Wilder and I are both misfits, used to being whispered about, pointed at. We’re more comfortable ignoring it.
“What about Charlie and Cal?”
“Cal was more interested in baseball than he was anything else. I don’t think girls factored into that much. Susanna was infatuated with him; Sara had talked about that when I got back from California. I have no idea about Tera, I barely remember her. Mia? She was their friend Carter’s older sister. She may have babysat Cal. The Kelleys were friends with the Gibsons.”
“Charlie?” I’m curious because he’s open with me, but we’ve never talked about previous relationships. I’m afraid he’ll make a comparison that hurts my feelings.
Wilder half smiles. “I’m about to give Gibson a compliment, don’t tell him.”
It’s not like Charlie would believe it. I sense he’s having a hard time taking my word about Wilder’s innocence. I roll my hand telling him to continue.
“Charlie had a type. He was always attracted to the smartest and most talented girls. What they looked like didn’t matter, it seemed. They had one thing in common. They were crazy smart and usually talented in some way. His attraction to you isn’t surprising.”
If I didn’t think Mitchell would dissolve in a puddle of tears or clam up, I’d ask him about Tera, since Wilder can’t remember. It’s not making sense.
I rub my forehead. “That’s just the girls, there were two boys. Am I just trying to find a pattern or connection where there isn’t one?”
Wilder clears his throat, then he looks out the window at the intermittent cars rolling by. “They're connected. I can feel it.”