Becoming A Vincent (The Wild Ones #1)

Hale hands me a beer that I inspect with dubious caution before opening.

“Possibly an arm or two as well,” Hale adds.

“It’s not like that,” I say on a sigh before sipping the beer.

My eyes linger on Benson as he smiles and says something to my uncle.

“If you say so,” Killian murmurs.

“We’ll get your bed fixed tomorrow so you can get back to your cabin,” Hale says adamantly.

“That’s not the only reason I’m avoiding my cabin,” I say, narrowing my eyes. “I know you’re planning something terrible to punish me for the beard debacle.”

“We were.” Killian nods as he says this. “But that was before we realized how cozy you are with Benson. We’ll call a truce, and you can come home.”

“I don’t believe you.”

They exchange a look, then return their gazes to me.

“Seriously. Get home. We’ll call a truce on the graves.”

I swallow hard. They’re serious.

“All this over Benson? We’ve been friends for years. I’ve spent the night at his house before.”

“But he looks like a dude you’d want now. So get home.”

With that, they turn and walk away, and I flip them off to their backs as I roll my eyes and smile to myself.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Aunt Penny says, looking out as a bunch of boats full of women cruise this way.

That’s more than twenty. When did we get more than twenty single women? Why was I not informed of this very crucial development at a time like this?

“Looks like the beardless party is bringing the women back,” she goes on.

It’s apparently also bringing in women I didn’t even know existed.

Howls and whistles sound out as beardless, or mostly beardless, men welcome the incoming hordes of women, and I sit back, watching as several start talking to Benson.

Uh-oh.





Chapter 7


Wild Ones Tip #72

Know the brand of crazy you’re dealing with. It could save your balls. Or your vagina lips.




LILAH



I’m four beers in when I consider smashing Lindy’s face in with the empty bottles beside me or cutting off her vagina lips with the broken glass.

For the past three years, at these little gatherings, I was one of maybe three women here. The women didn’t want to come to these things, and Aunt Penny made me attend.

Hell, not even Delaney would come, even when I begged her, because she found it boring. Oh, but she’s here tonight.

My brothers were banned pretty often from Aunt Penny’s events, which put me on my own. Over those years, Benson and I became friends, and it was an unspoken arrangement that we’d hang out together to endure these things as a team.

Now Benson is drinking with Paul—who I didn’t recognize without his bushy red beard—while Lindy Perkins stands right up against him like I usually do. I never realized before today how much we touch.

But now that I see another woman touching him, I can’t help but feel territorial.

And I have no right.

Usually he’s shy and quiet. Or just quiet. Not tonight. His confidence is buzzing. It’s a really good look on him.

I just assumed he’d still be the same Benson even with an extra shot of confidence.

Benson looks up, catching me looking at him, and I cut my gaze away just as Liam walks toward me, a smile playing on his lips.

“There’s a face I recognize,” he says in relief. “With all these beards gone, I feel like I have to meet everyone all over again.”

I force a smile as he takes the empty seat next to me. I turn my body to fully face him, straddling the picnic table bench, so that I can no longer see Lindy touching Benson. The way I’m usually touching him.

Because they’re not friends and we are.

Time for a new friend, it seems. Benson wants to be shared, and I can’t stand the gnawing, unprecedented jealousy I’m fighting.

I’m being ridiculous. I can’t stop being his friend even if he does get a girlfriend. I’ll just have to make her life hell—simple task for a girl like me—until she’s gone.

There. Plan made. Problem solved.

“Are you relieved you’re no longer the only eligible bachelor in Tomahawk?” I muse.

His grin grows. “Yeah. Very. I’m not big on a lot of attention. Didn’t expect that in a town so small.”

“It’ll calm down now, and we’ll be a normal bunch before you know it.”

As if summoned by that promise, there’s suddenly a shrill squeal, and one of my brothers is soaring through the air over our heads, his feet running on air. Hale lands in the lake so hard the water splashes straight up like a cannon just fired from beneath it.

I turn to see the rubber bungie mess behind me that just launched him.

“You idiots griped about that water, and you build that?” I ask, gesturing to the ludicrous contraption that looks like they stole parts of a trampoline to assemble that thing.

Killian grins at me, as Hale hoots from the water, climbing out.

“Couldn’t resist. Always wanted to try this!” Hale adds.

I shake my head, and I look back over to Liam to find him laughing. “Yeah. Terribly boring.”

“Well, my brothers don’t count. They have a tendency to be anything but boring. But it usually drives you insane instead of making you laugh. Just wait until they let bugs invade your panties.”

It’s not boring at all in Tomahawk when you live close to a corner of Wild Ones, but I don’t bother telling him that. He’s still new.

His eyebrows go up at the panty remark, and I laugh to myself while shaking my head.

Hale drops another beer off in my hand as he drips cool water everywhere on his way by, and I watch him suspiciously.

“What’s that look for?” Liam asks, curious.

“He’s trying to get me drunk. Which makes me worry about the reasons as to why. Last time they got me drunk, I ended up in a canoe and woke up all the way around the double bend of the lake. My arms felt like they were going to fall off by the time I managed to paddle home.”

He snorts, shaking his head as laughter creeps out.

“I thought your aunt said she didn’t allow them over here,” he says through his chuckles.

“Beardless night is apparently the exception. I’m sure she’ll regret that before the night is over.”

“Gotcha. So a canoe, huh?” he asks, apparently wanting me to continue.

“That canoe trip took me past two of the other three corners, and I got shot with paintballs when I passed the Malone corner.”

“This odd shaped lake has only four corners?” he asks.

“Metaphorical corners. Four of them. There are probably really like forty literal corners. The wildest of the Wild Ones—”

“Wild Ones?” he asks, sitting up straighter, suddenly very interested.

I’m not sure why that rouses his interest so much, but I’m tipsy enough to continue running my mouth about Tomahawk’s system of crazy. Liam is growing on me, since he seems genuine and nice enough.

“Yes. The Wild Ones are put on very different parts of the lake to help break up some of the crazy. Vincents—my brothers and I—are on this end. Malones are on another ‘corner,’ Nickels are on another, and the final are the Wilders.”