Chapter 15
Wild
I t’s been a few hours now since Indie made the deal with me. I’ve been struggling to keep my word already and let her be in control of things.
That’s a fun thought… her in control… sitting on top of… Fuck, I need to try to think of something else.
I let thoughts about work and my family run through my mind as we drive down the long-ass highway with not a single vehicle in sight. That’s helping the hard-on situation disappear, but now I’m bored as shit. My thoughts go back to the feisty woman beside me.
“I just realized somethin’ pretty important,” I say, turning down the radio. “It’s your birthday tomorrow.”
My gaze quickly bounces to her, but she sits unmoving, watching the empty field out her window.
How it just now dawned on me, I have no idea. I’ll blame the lack of sleep I’ve been getting the last few weeks. Who’d have thought that her sleeping in my bed one time would spoil me this bad?
“Just figure that out, Einstein?” she quips, never taking her gaze from the flat plains. “I don’t celebrate it. Don’t feel bad.” She looks over and gives me a half-smile.
“Why not?”
“Who wants to celebrate the day their mom died?” She peers over at me again, that small smile gone and replaced with a serious look. “My entering this world caused someone else to lose their life. And for what? Why do I get to be here, and she doesn’t?”
The air has shifted now, and it’s easy to see that this is a sore subject for her. Indie’s attitude is unpredictable most of the time, so I need to proceed with caution. The last thing I want is for her to stop opening up to me.
“Then do somethin’ that you’ll both be proud of,” I respond.
“Yeah.” She nods and looks down at the phone in her lap. “I’m tryin’,” her words slide out in a whisper, and she starts to fidget in her seat.
I know asking for help is hard for a lot of people. But I wonder if she knows that all she has to do is say something, and I’d be there.
“I’m always here if you need me, Ind…”
Her lips roll tight between her teeth as she peeks over at me with a pinched brow.
“Just wanted to make sure you knew that,” I add, feeling her gaze still on me.
We may fight like dogs, but Indie is someone I’d do just about anything for. Since she’s been back in my life these last few years, she’s become a part of our family. And there’s not a thing on God’s green Earth that I wouldn’t do for my family.
She gives me a quick nod and focuses her attention forward, her hands still clasping the phone in her hands tightly.
I don’t like this new thickness in the air. I love that she shared something so personal with me, but I don’t want her to feel weird or regret it, so I need to change the subject.
“I saw your newest masterpiece out in the workshop.”
“Masterpiece is a stretch,” she laughs, the layer of tension leaving the closed-in space.
“What? I think it’s sick. You gonna put it up in The Gallery?”
I’ve walked around The Gallery in Alokin Falls a few times over the years to get a peek at her work. I can always tell the pieces are hers before I even look at the signature. Something in her work always calls to me.
“That thing is so far from ‘ sick’ .” She air-quotes the word with a smile. “Also, so far from done. I seem to be overworkin’ my pieces lately, tossin’ everything in the trash. I haven’t actually finished anything in so damn long.” Her amber-brown eyes cast down again to the phone in her hand.
“How long you been paintin’?”
She lets out a puff of air. “Long as I can remember. I don’t plan to make a career of it or anything. I just enjoy doin’ it.” She shrugs. “If someone wants to buy my pieces every now and then, I’ll sell ‘em. Kinda like my music. I have no plans of signin’ a record deal or anything,” she chuckles. “I just do it because I love it.”
“Really? You wouldn’t sign with a label if they approached you?”
“Hell no,” she retorts, sounding almost offended by my words. “That ain’t the life for me. I do what I want, when I want. I don’t need no suit tellin’ me how to do what I love or tellin’ me what I have to do, where I have to be,” she lets out quickly.
“Hmm.” I bite the inside of my cheek. “I remember you likin’ bein’ bossed around,” I tease, the thoughts of her on her knees in front of me with that wild red hair wrapped around my fist flashing vividly through my mind.
She rolls her eyes and playfully shoves my arm as her cheeks turn a slight pink hue.
“Shut up,” she laughs and shakes her head, turning to look back out her window.
“Nothin’ to be embarrassed about, babe. I like tellin’ you what to do. God knows there’s no other time you’d listen to me,” I laugh.
A comfortable silence grows between us. I feel her eyes studying me as I keep my gaze forward. A few seconds pass before she finally speaks.
“What the hell are we doin’, Wild?” she questions in a low voice.
A huff passes her lips as she turns back toward her window, placing an elbow on the frame and her hand on her head, eyes dancing across the large open plain.
I have no clue what we’re doing. I’m the last person she should be asking that question.
However, doubt isn’t something I want to fill her mind with right now.
“It’ll all work out just fine.” I reach over the console and pat her leg.
“We’ll see,” she whispers, never looking back at me.
Deciding I’ve dug far enough for now, I turn the radio back up. Classic rock music fills the speakers, and I put on a show for her. I’m a one-man band, playing every note and belting out the lyrics without missing a beat.
“Keep your hands on the wheel!” Indie barks out and slaps at my hand as I’m deep in the throes of an air guitar solo.
The corners of my lips turn up as I place my hands on the wheel at ten and two, sitting ramrod straight in my seat.
“Aye, aye, Captain.” I give a quick salute, causing her to roll her eyes again.
She thinks I don’t see her smile, but I’m not fucking blind. Any time that girl lets out one of those rare rays of sunshine, it lights up my damn world.
“A karaoke bar? Really?”
Indie looks less than impressed as she glares at the large neon sign in front of us.
It’s late, and we finally made it to Willowfield. We were both hungry and in need of some real food, so I searched for a place.
“I thought you’d like this. Seemed right up your alley,” I say, putting the SUV in park and turning the key.
Indie lets out a sigh as she reaches for her bag. I know she likes these places. Not long ago, I remember her and my sister going to one up in the city. Carson told me all about picking their drunk asses up when they called him.
Anyone else may feel guilty knowing their childhood friend had to go pick up their sister, but he’s been one of us for as long as I can remember. He may put on a grumpy face, but I know he doesn’t mind doing things for Wren.
“I’ll go in under one condition,” she finally says, her tired eyes trailing over to me.
“Name it.”
“You’re singin’,” she states matter-of-factly with a finger pointed in my direction.
“Done, butter buns.” I wink at her and push my door open before she can say anything else.
When we get inside, the place is packed. It’s Friday night in a small town—of course it’s a full house.
The dark atmosphere, with the smell of cheap food and beer heavy in the air, is just like every other bar I’ve been in. The neon signs on the wall are the only source of light other than the large monitor displaying the words to the song the man on stage is butchering.
A server with big hair straight from the eighties and wearing a bottle and a half of perfume walks up and tells us to sit anywhere. I spot an empty table and grab Indie’s hand to pull her with me through the crowd. The warmth and softness of her skin on mine cause a weird tingle to go through my hand and up my entire arm. On instinct, I grip on to her tighter.
Fuck, I’ve missed touching her.
We sit at the high round table, and I holler our order of two burgers and beers to the server. I motion for her to come closer so I can whisper my song choice into her ear. As she leans in, I don’t miss the look on Indie’s face. I possibly just saw the first sign of jealousy from that woman—and I fucking love it.
I’ve seen a lot of different emotions come from that woman, but jealousy isn’t one of them. Well, at least not where I’m concerned.
The server brings our food back a few minutes later, and we begin to dig in. We had plenty of snacks all day, but I’m glad to finally have some real food.
Neither of us speaks as we inhale the cheap burgers from the little red plastic baskets lined with checkerboard paper. They taste like they may have been sitting in the warmer for the last eight hours, but I’ll take this over whatever shitty junk food Indie has left in the car.
“So what song you gonna sing?” Indie asks as she pulls the long-neck bottle from her lips—the sight makes my cock twitch.
“It’s a surprise,” I say, tossing the last bite of burger into my mouth.
Indie doesn’t respond as she takes another pull from the bottle. Her eyes go out to the woman on stage trying to be sexy as she dances to a Madonna classic.
From the corner bar, the waitress waves to get my attention and points to the stage.
“Here we go,” I say, realizing it’s my turn to get up there.
“Go get ‘em, cowboy,” Indie says, slapping my ass as I stand from my chair.
She thinks she won, but she has no idea.
After standing, I flip my hat around and walk over to the small wooden stage lit up with blue LED lights around the floor.
The TV in front of me displays the lyrics of the song I chose in big white letters, and I’m glad Indie can’t see it.
The crowd lets out a few catcalls as I wait for the music to begin. I’m sure Indie didn’t think I’d do this. But one thing about me: I don’t get embarrassed easily, and I’m always up for a good challenge.
The high-pitched guitar notes hit the speakers, and I see Indie’s dramatic eyes hit the back of her head all the way from over here.
I join Van Morrison and sing my heart out, keeping my eyes on Indie when the chorus comes up. Her elbow is placed on the table as she’s resting her chin in her hand, acting like she doesn’t care.
Pointing my finger in her direction, she shakes her head and turns her fingers toward her mouth to cover the smile I know she’s fighting.
“You my…brown-eyed girl… And youu, myyy brown-eyed girl,” I sing as the crowd joins in, keeping my finger pointed straight at her—my brown-eyed girl.
The cheerful beat goes on, and the crowd sways and dances around in front of me as I finish the song. But my eyes can’t break free from the girl with the auburn hair seated at our table in the back. She can hide that smile behind her hand all she wants; I can see it just fine in those beautiful brown eyes.
“Quite the performance,” Indie says as I take a seat back at our table.
“That’s not the only performance I have planned for you tonight,” I reply confidently, taking a big swig from my beer.
Her eyes heat as we stay locked in each other’s gaze, and she bites nervously at her bottom lip. I’d give anything to know what she’s thinking right now. Or better yet, anything to be that lip.
Those pouty, pink lips part like she’s about to say something, and I’d be willing to bet money she’s going to say she’s changed her mind about our deal.
“That was so hot!” A woman comes up, placing her hand on my shoulder.
Indie’s eyes jump from me to the offending hand. If this woman had laser vision, I’d have a damn hole in my shoulder.
Before I can say or do anything, Indie does.
“Take your damn hand off him,” she bites out, casting her attention up to the woman.
I glance over my shoulder to see the perky blonde’s face fall as she quickly does as she’s told.
“Jesus, chill out, bitch. I was just sayin’ that was a great show he put on,” the woman says with a little more gathered courage.
Indie stands from her seat, and the fire burning in her eyes tells me all I need to know.
“What the fuck did you just say to me?” Indie begins to walk around the table.
This is the fire no one wants to have a part of if they’re smart. I’ve seen this woman kick some ass out at the bar a few times. She never starts anything, but she sure as hell finishes it.
Throwing my arm out, I quickly stand and wrap it around Indie’s waist, pulling her against my chest.
“Easy, little firecracker,” I whisper against her ear and feel her take a deep inhale.
“Thanks, but you should probably get outta here,” I tell the blonde woman who doesn’t know the hell she’s about to unleash on herself.
With a shake of her head, she scoffs and walks away.
Indie’s eyes stay on her, burning a hole in her head until she reaches her table of friends across the room.
“Gettin’ a little territorial are we, Wildflower?” I tease, loosening my grip on her waist.
She quickly spins around, and her heated eyes meet mine again. Her breathing is heavy—the close proximity affecting us both. I’m not sure if it’s her pulse or mine that I feel beating wildly against my fingertips resting on her wrist.
Those amber eyes travel down to my mouth and back up as she bites the corner of her lip and smirks.
“Let’s get outta here.”
Before I can say anything, she’s out of my grip and headed for the door.