Chapter 9
Indie
I ’ve always loved birds. No matter what the previous day was like, they always start the new day with a song.
Strumming the strings on my old guitar, I slowly sway on the old porch swing, listening to their sweet songs. Feeling like Princess Fiona, I start to whistle along with them.
The fall season has finally arrived. I’m by no means a pumpkin spice bimbo, but I do love this time of year. It’s the best for obvious reasons, like the smells, all the baked goods, crisp leaves crunching under your feet, and big, cozy sweaters.
A lot of people think I’m crazy for already grabbing a sweater, but I’ve always been a cold person— pun intended .
But the number one reason the fall season trumps all the others has to be because bugs finally return to the hell they belong in.
My eyes track the spider that crawls across the porch and up the wood railing.
“Fuckin’ disgusting,” I mutter to myself, keeping my eyes glued to the bastard to make sure he stays far away from me and the front door. As long as he stays outside and keeps his eight little legs to himself, he can live another day.
And yes, it’s a he —most annoying things are.
The sound of gravel crunching and the flash of headlights pull my gaze up to the driveway, where I spot Wilder’s Bronco coming to a stop in front of the house. When he opens his door and steps out, I see he’s still looking just as good as when he left.
Does he annoy me? Yes. But Wild has always been a very good-looking man—a fact even I can’t deny.
“Hey there, good lookin’.” Wild drops into the empty space beside me and lets out a sigh.
“How was your trip?” I ask, lightly strumming another chord.
Turning his head, he eyes me suspiciously, his brow wrinkling.
“Do you really care?” he questions with a light chuckle.
“You’re right. I don’t.” I continue picking the strings.
He lets out another soft laugh. “Nice talk, Ind. I’m gonna go shower. Get the fish smell off of me.”
Standing from the porch swing, he goes into the house—the old wood screen door squeaking shut behind him as I peel my eyes off of his ass.
With a sigh, I debate going inside as well. Before I can move, my phone vibrates in my pocket.
Auntie
You still alive over there?
Surprisingly. How was Vegas?
Auntie
Oh, you know. Same ol’, same ol’.
This a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ situation?
Auntie
You know how the saying goes. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas
Knowing the shenanigans my aunt and her friends get up to, I have no doubt that I do not want to know any more details about their trip.
Glad you had a good time. When you gonna come see me?
Auntie
Soon hopefully. Miss you, kiddo. I miss seein’ them good-lookin’ men, too. These fellas around here give me the heebie-jeebies.
I laugh to myself, imagining her face when she sees them. The woman wears her thoughts on her face and doesn’t try one bit to hide them. She lives up in the northern mountains of California, but the few times a year when she journeys down to the bigger cities to travel, she gets a run-in with “those damn hipsters” and always tells me all about it. Her reactions are funny, so I always laugh it off. I know she doesn’t mean any hate toward them; she just has her tastes like everyone else.
Sounds awful.
Auntie
You ain’t shittin’. I hope you’re enjoyin’ that eye candy you got around you.
I told you, it’s not like that, Auntie.
Auntie
Right… Hey, I gotta run, but I’ll call you this weekend. Love ya
Love you, too
After a few more minutes of sitting in the fresh autumn air, I go back inside the house.
When I step inside, I hear the shower running and Wild’s terrible voice belting out the words to some fast-paced song. Half the time, he comes out of there buck-ass naked, and right now, I really don’t need a show.
Closing my bedroom door behind me, I walk to the corner of the room and put my old black acoustic on the stand. This guitar belonged to my grandpa and was passed down to me. It’s beautiful with pearl inlays and looks pretty good, considering how old it is.
Just as I turn, something crosses my path in a flash, and I let out a scream of terror as I run and jump up onto my bed.
“Fuck! Why?!” I put my hands on top of my head, pulling at my hair as I scan the floor.
“Where did you go, you little fucker?!” I yell.
“What the hell’s goin’ on in here?” Wild pushes my door open and spots me perched on top of my bed. There’s a white towel around his waist and beads of water dripping from his dark blonde hair. Above his slightly parted lips sits that damn mustache I haven’t stopped thinking about since the night I saw it.
Why the hell do I want to know what it feels like so bad?
“What are you doin’ up there?” he asks with a pinched brow.
“There’s a damn tarantula in my room,” I snap, staring at him like he’s the one that’s fucking crazy right now, not me .
“What? Where?” His eyes dart around the room in a sweeping motion as he closes the door behind him.
“It went across the floor over there.” I point to the spot where I saw the eight-legged freak. I’m not scared of much in life, but those bastards are number one on my shit list.
Wild walks over and examines the area. “I don’t see nothin’. Are you sure it was a tarantula? Those are pretty big. I think I’d see it if there was one in here,” he says, rummaging through my pile of dirty clothes on the floor.
Mental note: get a hamper, stat .
My little pile of organized chaos is a spider’s dream home.
“I don’t know! It was some kind of big-ass spider. I’m not a damn arachnid expert,” I bite out, growing frustrated that there’s a wild beast loose in my room.
A grin covers Wild’s face as he looks back at me over his shoulder.
“Is the rough and tough Indie Jones scared of a little ‘ol spider?” he taunts as he turns back to face me.
Taking a large inhale, I step down from the bed and come toe to toe with him.
Damn, he smells good.
“Kiss. My. Lily white…” I stop myself just in time to see his eyes light up, recalling what happened the last time I told this man to kiss my ass.
“Foot,” I finish, feeling smug at the catch.
He shrugs one shoulder and leans down to grab my leg. I fumble, almost falling over as he grabs onto my foot and lifts it.
“What the hell are you doin’?” I bite out as I push him away.
He pauses, looking up at me with mischievous eyes and a crooked smile.
“What?” he questions, releasing my leg and putting his hands up. “I’m just doin’ what you told me to.”
Stepping closer, he slowly shakes his head. “When are you gonna learn there ain’t a part of you I won’t put my mouth on?”
His mouth on me is not something I need visions of while he’s standing in my room, buck-ass naked under that towel with water dripping down his taut chest.
“Get outta my room,” I demand, pointing to the door. “Thanks for bargin’ in uninvited, by the way,” I say a little more rudely than I intend.
Wild shakes his head and huffs through his nose. “Excuse the hell outta me for comin’ to your rescue.” He exits my room and pulls the door behind him.
When the door clicks shut, guilt fills my stomach. I know he was trying to help me. But I don’t want him doing nice shit like that for me. I don’t want anyone ever to see me unable to take care of myself. When Wild does things like that— shows he cares — my feelings grow more complicated, something I don’t need.
“Okay,” I whisper to myself, tightening the messy bun on top of my head. “Time to go huntin’.”
There’s not a chance in hell I’ll sleep a wink until I find that little fuzzy fucker.
The time on my phone blinds me as I check to see that it is now after midnight. Hours spent searching for that damn spider left me empty-handed. I assume it must have come to its senses and went to another room that it would be more welcome in.
My eyes jump from one corner of the wall to the other, scanning the ceiling for any little black shadow to creep across the surface above me in the dark.
Deciding to finally cave to the sandman as my eyes begin to burn from the fatigue, I turn onto my side and pull the blanket up higher, covering my ear. I don’t want that little bastard crawling in there while I’m sleeping and laying eggs or some shit.
I’m almost back asleep when a light tickling sensation ghosts across my hand, causing me to spring from my bed. Hands flailing in the air, I jump around, brushing off my arms and shaking my hair out.
“Fucking hell!” I whisper-yell to myself, examining the floor for any fallen intruder.
Fuck. This.
Running out of my room, I quickly shut the door behind me.
Now what, Ind?
Deciding the couch is my next best option, I go to the linen closet for a blanket. Because, like fuck am I grabbing anything from my room now. With Wild in control of the A/C, it’s always colder than a witch’s tit in here, though, so I’ll have to find something to cover up with.
Empty. The closet in front of me is empty. Of course it is.
I guess I shouldn’t say empty . It’s just full of all kinds of random crap that won’t work as a blanket to keep me warm.
Why the hell doesn’t this man own some extra sheets and blankets?
Tip-toeing further down the hallway, I slowly crack Wild’s bedroom door open and peek inside.
Surely he has to have an extra blanket in here.
His room is surprisingly clean and smells like his body wash. It’s damn salivating.
I leave the door slightly ajar behind me. It’s dark in his room, with just the moonlight coming through the window.
After my eyes start to adjust, I faintly make out a lump at the base of his bed. Score .
Taking my final step toward the bed and reaching out for the extra folded-up blanket, my toe stubs into something hard.
“Fuck!” I whisper, reaching for the injured limb and falling face-first right on top of a sprawled-out Wilder.
“What the—” he quickly sits up and turns on the little light beside his bed.
His eyes meet mine and graze down my body. When his lips part with a sharp intake of breath, I glance down and realize what I’m wearing—a t-shirt that barely covers my ass cheeks.
Why didn’t I put on some shorts or something? Oh yeah, because there was an intruder in my room.
“What are you doin’?” His voice is thick with sleep as he studies me.
I can already imagine all the ideas he’s having. A half-naked woman comes into his room in the middle of the night and wakes him up with her face to his crotch.
Yeah, I need to fix this pronto.
“That damn spider is in my room. I just need your extra blanket so I can sleep on the couch.” I grab the folded fuzzy blanket from the foot of his bed and hold it up.
“Climb in.” He holds the comforter up across from him and turns to pat the extra pillow.
Now, it’s my turn to look at him in confusion.
Is he high?
“Fat chance,” I say with a huff. The last thing I need to do is sleep with Wilder again.
“Ind… that is the world’s worst couch to sleep on. I can’t let you do that.” He pats the pillow again, a little harder this time. “I’ll protect you, Wildflower. C’mon, just sleep. Nothin’ else, I swear,” he adds, sensing my disbelief.
Quickly weighing my options, I decide to take the risk and get a good night’s sleep tonight. I walk around and crawl into the bed next to him.
“What are you doin’ now?” he asks as I roll up the extra blanket in my hands.
“Puttin’ a wall between us. I don’t want you gettin’ handsy in your sleep.” I place the blanket between us. “There.” I give the new blanket wall an extra pat. “Goodnight.”
I plop my head down on the pillow, and a faint sandalwood and vanilla smell circles around me.
It smells like Wild.
His deep chuckle fills the room. “Goodnight, sugar pie. If you change your mind, I still sleep commando?—”
“What the hell.” I start to get out of the bed, but his large arm stops me as it wraps around my waist.
“I’m just jokin’. Calm your tits, woman.” He removes his arm, and I relax my head back down on the thick pillow, too tired to be stubborn tonight. “Goodnight, Ind.”
The image of a naked Wilder next to me is another thing I don’t need right now—the farthest thing from it, actually.
Wait… was he kidding about changing my mind or about being naked beside me? Fuck, I don’t want to know.
My eyes grow heavy, and I drift to sleep a short time later in the warm bed without a care in the world about spiders or anything else.