Page 36 of Drive Me Wilde

Colin knuckles me on the arm. "Earth to Jameson. Hello, remember us?"

"What the fuck do you want from me? Just let me drink my beer."

"Hear that, Ro? The man just wants to drink his beer."

"Yep, Zander's right. He's still obsessed," Colin says confidently.

"Heard about enough from you two idiots." I down my glass of beer and get up from the table.

"That's it, bro. Make your move. You're Jameson Wilde, for fuck's sake." The twins' laughter follows me as I head across the bar to where the girls found a niche to stand in. I'm only halfway there when I spot Zach making a beeline for the same spot. He's wearing his big toothpaste-commercial smile and the stupid Hawaiian shirt he always wears to the bar. He calls itbranding. I take a sharp right toward the stage. Nate is still taking pictures with fans. He spots me and tells the last few people in line to come back after the first set. There are a few disappointed groans as they turn and shuffle away.

"My brother, the rock star," I tease.

"You'll know I've reached rock star status when you have to make an appointment to see me backstage, and I sure as shit won't be standing in the middle of this dive taking selfies withpeople I went to school with. Couldn't turn Harry down, you know?"

"I'm glad you're here. Haven't heard you guys play for a long time."

"Guess we better get things rolling." Nate jumps on stage.

I turn back around. Zach is still standing with the women. He's standing close to Indi, and they're laughing about something. Everyone always said they belonged together, but I never saw it. Zach never deserved her. I didn't either.

Ronan waves me back to the table. The twins are no longer smiling or laughing. I walk back over. "Did you see who walked through?" Ronan asks before I can even sit.

"You mean Zach?" I ask, not entirely sure why that would upset Ronan.

"What? No, not Zach. Shit, you're one-track minded," he mutters.

Sometimes it's easier to get a solid answer from Colin. "What the hell is he so pissed about?"

"While you were talking to Nate, the villains of the east just walked through to the poolroom."

It seems I'm wrong about Colin being a more solid choice. "Who?"

Ronan smacks the table with his fist. "Shit, you're so busy braiding hair and talking about who the cutest boy in school is, you don't even know what the hell is going on in the adult world anymore. Those imbeciles that they hired up at the sawmill—Zander calls them the Basset Boys, but they're not even from Basset, only staying there until they move on to the next town to shower it with their stink. It didn't take them long to realize Basset was a sleeper town. They keep showing up here at the Gold Rush, trying to start trouble. Harry says there's a whole group of them. They rolled in together on Harleys, nomadslooking for seasonal work. They leave shit in their wake and then move on to the next town."

"Zander mentioned them. And you're right—I have been busy with hair braiding and twelve-year-old gossip, Ro, but I'm not going to apologize for being a dad to my kid. None of this, none of the shit that happens in this town or this bar matters. All that matters is Rio being safe and happy and healthy."

My little speech wipes the attitude right out of Ronan's posture. I glance back toward the poolroom. "Maybe they'll just play a few games of pool and leave," I say. Zander mentioned something about them looking for the Wilde brothers, so they could knock some heads. It seems to me the place is too crowded to start any real trouble.

The music starts up, and there are a few screams of glee from the women watching the stage. Nate does have that thing lead singers need to pull all the attention toward them.

I'm regretting my visit to the bar when I spot Zach leading Indi by the hand toward the dance floor. Indi glances my direction, but it's so fleeting, I convince myself she wasn't looking my way at all. I down two more beers before they finish their dance.

"Think I might take off," I say.

"Why?" Colin asks.

"Just not in the mood for this crowd."

Right then, someone lets out a loud yell. "Whooee, you call this a band? They're shit." The guy is well over six foot, half muscle and half fat, but that doesn't make him any less scary.

"That's Kettle, the leader. I figure he got the nickname because he's shaped like a fucking kettle," Ronan says through gritted teeth.

Nate, a true performer, keeps singing, but he's keeping an eye on the beast standing in the middle of the room. Then three more, nearly his size and even uglier, come trickling out from thepoolroom. One is carrying a pool cue. He stops and smashes it on a chair. Everyone in that corner of the bar scatters for cover.

Harry scurries to the office with his phone to his ear. I assume he's calling the police. Nate lifts a hand to stop his band. He stares hard at the guy as he lifts the microphone to his mouth. "Hey, asshole, take your flock of trolls and get out. People are here to have a good time, and you assholes are stinking up the place."

A few low laughs make their way through the crowd, but for the most part people are cowering in the far corners. A few people are hurrying out the door.

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