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He was apparently just taking care of me. Nothing more.
Chapter 9
Cook
Icracked my knuckles as Wildeand I walked outside. Sweat already slicked my body. At least on my bike, the cool breeze had erased the scorching Arizona heat. Just seeing Maddie in clothes more fitting of her age, showing off her skin and tight to her body, had sent my blood rushing southward.
Since leaving her to visit the only store in Park Ridge, I’d been rolling around her actions in my head. With what she’d been through, none of it made a bit of sense. However, when she’d kneeled before me, something snapped between us like a rubber band. Awareness had washed over me, and no matter how much I wanted to deny it, her needs were loud and—God fucking help me—clear.
I walked further away from the house, passing the three motorcycles lined up near the dirt road. Mine, Wilde’s, then Bou’s. Odd that she could still ride, but that woman was a hellcat. Tougher than nails. I would bet on her riding herself to the hospital when she went into labor.
“We walking all the way to town?” asked Wilde.
I whipped around and painted a smirk on my face. “What? Not up for a little exercise?”
He checked over his shoulder, as if he needed to get back to his ol’ lady. His cut flipped out with a gust of wind, showing the gun tuckedinto his waistband. Not necessary here, unless he needed to protect her from a nest of rattlesnakes or the ghost of my father.
“Far ’nuff.” I kicked a rock, and it skittered over the ground.
Wilde lifted his chin in a half nod. “What’s doin’ asshole?”
“Not much, motherfucker,” I quipped back.
Conversation was getting easier with Wilde since I’d gone after him in Mexico, and while it felt good to shoot the shit, I had other crap on the brain. We’d bonded on that ride back with Cyd Sarantos hogtied in the back of my Bronco, but I still wasn’t as close to him as I was to Celt.
Celt had always been my brother, but Wilde came crashing into town almost a year ago. A stranger. Somehow, he’d won over a woman who’d fought off every bastard in the Ridge. I’d gone after him to hunt down his father in Mexico, and I’d found him in a pretty... delicate situation.
This, however, wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have with Celt. Hell, I couldn’t believe I was going to have it with anyone.
“What’s got you so twitchy?” Wilde scooted back to his new bike and leaned onto the seat.
I dug my fingers into the muscles in the back of my neck, not wanting to have this conversation. Not believing the words that were rolling around in the back of my throat. I didn’t have a fucking clue how to ask this shit.
Inhaling a deep breath, I started, “Maddie is . . . um . . .”
“Different?” Wilde offered.
I crossed my arms over my chest as a small “Hrm” rumbled through me. “I guess that’s a way to put it.”
“The fuck did you expect? Some happy-go-lucky chick?” The man raised his brows at me.
“Nah, man.” I dropped my head back, staring up at the blue sky with wisps of white clouds. “I just—”
“Just what? Of all the kids we pulled out of Barton Mill, she’d been living that shit the longest.”
“Yeah.” I took a deep breath. What had I expected? Certainlynot who Maddie was turning out to be. “I get the trauma, but there’s something else.”
Wilde said nothing, but he cocked one brow.
“Listen, I doubt Bou’s anything of the sort, but Maddie’s asking me to, well, tell her what to do.” I flicked my gaze over to the man, waiting for a reaction.
“So tell her.” He shrugged.
“Nah, man. This is another level.” I started to pace, shoving both hands into my hair. Massaging my scalp, I tried to make my brain fire on all cylinders. “You know that song by Rhianna?”
He scowled at me. “You’re not pulling morePeter Panoutta your ass are you?”
“No, this is serious. You know...” I waved my hand in the air, trying to remember. “That one where she says whips and chains excite her?”
