Enchanting Wilder (10 page)

Picking up my keys, I slap him on the back and head out. The Sting’s engine revs to life under my fingers and I grip the steering wheel tight, reveling in the sensation. I love the roar of this engine. There aren’t many things in this world I find happiness in, but driving this car, traveling around the country with it—it brings me a lot of pleasure. Probably more than it should—at least, that’s what Wood would say.

I take the first spot I see in the parking lot and double check to make sure my gun is in the custom pocket in my jacket and hop out.

The bar is old, musty and smoke filled. In other words, just how I prefer it. The empty peanut shells under my feet crunch and crack loud in the quiet area.

“Hey.” I greet the pretty bartender with a smile. “Whiskey.”

She winks, her blonde hair falling into her face. The sway in her step as she makes her way down the rows of liquor doesn’t go unnoticed. I cock an eyebrow and bite my lip as I watch her make a spectacle of simply walking.

She slides me a thick glass and pours the dark liquid. “Here you go, sweetheart.”

I take a sip, the harshness not fazing me. It doesn’t burn going down. It’s more like a welcome from an old friend. “Thanks.”

The bartender’s attention is called and I’m left alone. There aren’t many people here tonight and I wonder if that’s because it really is a hole-in-the-wall or because they come later in the evening. It’s only ten o’clock, so by bar standards it’s still pretty early.

Just as I’m thinking I’ll move to a booth in the back, a group of twenty walks through the door and another gaggle of people walk to the stage to begin setting up instruments.

I eye them curiously as they laugh and stumble around, almost wishing I had a childhood that allowed me to have a fun college experience.

I slam back the last of my drink, feeling oddly reminiscent of what I never had. Clearing my throat, I yell down to the bartender, “Hey, uh, sweetheart?” She turns to me, a sly smile playing on her face. Probably happy I just used the same endearment she used on me minutes ago. “Another?”

She nods and walks toward me with the bottle in hand. “You can have anything you want.”

My eyebrows shoot up and I can’t help but grin. If anything—or anyone—could get McKenna out of my head, it would certainly be this girl. This night is looking up.

After she fills up my glass, she leans on the dark wood bar top, her long hair falling over her arms. “I close up at two. Feel free to hang around.”

I raise my glass in thanks. “There going to be a show?” A few more groups of people have made their way into the small bar now.

She looks over at the stage. “Yeah. The Ackalades play here every Saturday.”

“Awesome.”

“Here,” she says, taking her order notepad out of the front of her apron. She pulls a pen from the top of her ear and writes something down. “My number. Call me.”

I gladly take the paper, slide off the barstool and make my way to the back of the bar for a seat in a booth closer to the stage.

Slowly but surely, the bar begins to fill up and, by ten thirty, the place is packed.

The Ackalades step onto the stage and the crowd roars to life. The lead singer steps up to the microphone and beams, the girls in particular going wild. He’s got longer brown hair that hangs past his ears and his black t-shirt doesn’t leave much to the imagination. He’s the typical rock guy and I have to give him credit, he does it well.

“Welcome to The Nest! I’m Jared and we are The Ackalades.”

More girls scream and one even throws a bra up at him, which he effortlessly catches. Jared winks and points at the now bra-less woman. “I’m here to have some fun. Are you beautiful people ready?” The place erupts and he chuckles, looking behind him to the rest of his bandmates. “Then let’s do this.”

The entire bar goes dark and, after a few seconds, a spotlight hits the stage prompting Jared and The Ackalades to begin a popular rock song. As the crowd moves and sways to the music, I can’t help but enjoy their vibe. They’re soulful but also a little harsh. The lead singer’s vocals are something I’ve never heard before. Definitely not mainstream. It’s raspy and edgy. Something, I’m sure, gets him tons of women.

When the band decides to take an intermission about an hour later, the music lovers on the floor below the stage stay put to save their spots. It’s not until my eyes skim the crowd more thoroughly that I see her. My glass clinks against the table as it falls from my hands. The dark liquid slaps out onto the table and I’m stunned silent.

Her bright, curly red hair sticks out like a beautiful, mesmerizing sore thumb in a sea of boring. The music on the jukebox pumps through the speakers and she dances to the melody, looking like a big goofball. My smile stretches across my entire face. She bites her lip and combs her hand through her hair, moving her body to the rhythm. The girl she’s with dances in front of her and they laugh out loud every time they link hands, moving their hips back and forth.

I’m struck by the thought I probably seem like a stalker—staring so intently, but quickly squash the thought. I’m not supposed to see her again, but I’m not going to lie and say I’m not a little excited.

The dark haired woman McKenna is with leans into her, whispering into her ear and then makes her way toward the back of the bar. Left alone, McKenna stands awkwardly, holding her arm. When she turns around, with her elbows on the bar, she scans the room. She doesn’t see me, which is more than okay with me. I can watch from afar.

Nestling myself into the booth, Jared and the band take the stage. Flashing a sultry smile I’ve been known to use, Jared begins his second set.

I look back to where McKenna was sitting at the bar earlier, but she’s not anywhere to be found. My eyebrows downcast for the slightest second, but I don’t think too much of it.

Toying with the bottle of beer in my hands, I’m preoccupied when someone stands next to me.

“Are you stalking me?”

My eyes look up to find a very feisty, very beautiful McKenna with her hand propped on her hip. Her lips are smiling, but her eyes are accusing.

I sputter. “Umm, no?” It comes out as a question and I mentally want to junk punch myself. “I mean, no.”
There, that seemed more certain.

Her eyes narrow. “What are you doing here, Declan?”

I gesture for her to sit. After a few seconds, her inner struggle written all over her face, she finally slides into the booth. She pulls her hands in front of her on the table and knits her fingers together. “Well?”

“I just needed a break. Wood made me get out of the hotel and I found myself here.” I mentally give myself a high-five because if this isn’t luck, I don’t know what is.

“Who’s Wood?”

“My brother, Sherwood. I call him Wood, though.”

Her one eye twitches as she smiles. “Wood? Like, whoooop?” She extends her pointer finger high, mimicking a boner.

Laughter busts from my throat and I shake my head. She’s playful tonight. “No. Not like, whoooop.” I impersonate her. “It’s just a nickname.”

She nods and moves her hands from the table, leaning closer to me. “What about you? Do you have a nickname?”

“No. I’m too cool for a nickname.”

This earns me an eye roll. “I’m sure.”

“Why aren’t you out there?” I point to the pit where everyone else is.

She shrugs a shoulder. “I don’t know.”

“Not crazy enough for you?”

She laughs. “No. Too crazy. That’s probably why I’m sitting here.”

“Are you not spontaneous, McKenna?”

“Hardly.”

“That’s a shame.” I adjust in my seat, setting my bottle of beer down. “There’s a lot of life in spontaneity.”

She looks down, seeming embarrassed.

I tilt my head. “You can’t do crazy, can you?” I challenge her.

She sits up straight. “I can. I just don’t.”

“Why?”

Her eyes narrow. “Because.”

“God, you’re just full of surprises.”

“What?”

“McKenna, you have an entire world in front of you.” I lower my voice. “You’re an all-knowing badass witch. Embrace that shit. Live a little.”

“Well…” is all she says. She looks to the side and crosses her arms.

I chuckle. “You’re stuck.”

“I’m not stuck.” She says the word like it’s dirty. “I’m content.”

Another song starts, this one louder than the others. The tempo is fast enough to dance to but slow enough that, if I want to, I can pull her to me. I move myself from behind my side of the table and stand. Offering her my hand, I say, “Come dance with me.”

She stares at my hand with apprehension, her jaw set. She thinks for a couple of seconds and sets her hand in mine.

Pulling her close to my body, I lock my hands behind her back, sure to keep her close. I silently groan and chew on the inside of my cheek, the close proximity to her already overwhelming all of my senses.

I wasn’t supposed to talk to her, let alone bring her out on the dance floor. I’m setting us both up for disappointment, yet I can’t stop myself.

She sighs contently and clasps her hands loosely around my neck, laying her head just below my shoulder. Her body shudders under mine, and I can feel her erratic heartbeat thumping against my chest.

“You’ve never done anything like this,” I whisper loud enough for her to hear and she shakes her head, agreeing with me. “You’ve never danced with someone you’ve just met. It makes you nervous and you’re wondering if you’re going to get caught up in it—in me.” I’m tilling the line now. I know we don’t have a future—hell, or even a tomorrow. The moment I’m done with this case, Wood and I are out of here and it’s not likely for us to come back. But I want to show her what it’s like to let go, even for a night.

“I want to let go,” she utters and I wonder if she intended for me to hear it.

I keep silent as we dance and move to the song, the melodic melody lulling us farther into each other. Her scent engulfs me, her presence surrounds me, and her being holds mine. I’ve never felt such a thing. We cling to one another. Stuck—the good kind of stuck. The kind of stuck I never want to leave.

When the song ends and the band exits the stage, the crowd disperses. But instead of going back to our booth, McKenna and I stay in our spot, listening to the music on the jukebox that now fills the air. I fight the urge to let her go. I should. I should tell her goodnight and go back to the hotel. But instead, I do something stupid. “We should do something.”

She lifts her head, looking into my eyes with a glint of mischievous. “Do what?”

I grip my hands harder around her and shrug both of my shoulders. “Something fun—something crazy.”

She groans. “You’re using that word again—crazy. We’re in Summerson, Declan. This is the craziest it gets around here.” She pulls back to look at me.

“Well, then let’s go somewhere else.”

“It’s almost four in the morning. Where are we going to go?”

I unlatch myself from her and pull out my phone, Googling a map of the world. “Close your eyes and point.”

McKenna tilts her head and the corners of her mouth twitch. “You’re serious? I can’t just leave. I don’t have the money to go buy a plane ticket. Plus, I have to work tomorrow, and Declan…” She slaps my arm. “Aren’t you on a case?”

I chuckle. “Aren’t you this all-knowing witch? Let’s blip there and come back. Two hours. Tops.”
What in the hell am I doing?

Her nostrils flare as she contemplates my offer. “I don’t blip.” She smiles and bites her thumbnail. “But we can 
Dissipate
. But I’ve never done it with another person before.”

I straighten my back. “Now is as good of a time as ever. Let’s do it. Point.”

Her honey eyes widen when she sees my seriousness. “Really?”

“Yes, really. Do it. Let’s go.”

She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, twirling her finger above my phone. After a few theatrics, she lands on a spot. Opening one eye, she squeaks.

“We can’t.”

I nod. “We can.”

“Declan!” she shouts above the music playing on the jukebox. “We can’t go to Greece.”

“We’re going. Now. We’re not getting any younger.”

She hesitates. “I’m not
this
spontaneous. I’ve never even been out of Massachusetts.”

“What?” I ask, dumbfounded. “No. No way. That can’t be true.”

She bites on her nail again. “Well, I mean—that’s not technically true. I’ve been all over the world in people’s dreams.”

“Not the same.”

“I know, but this is nuts. We’re insane, right?”

“Undoubtedly. It’s childish and even a little foolish.”

Her face falls.

“But that’s exactly why we need to go.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

I grab her hand and we make our way into the unknown.