Page 60 of Wilder Heart

Cash leaned in, pointing at Wayne, who looked appropriately shamed. “This one got real drunk one night and stood up here in the truck bed right as Clyde put it in drive?—”

“I had to piss,” Wayne said defensively.

“—and when the truck moved he toppled over the tailgate. Busted his head open and needed a few stitches, but otherwise, he lived to dumbass another day.”

Wilder wheezed, a sound so ugly and genuine that Cash and Darryl laughed and even Wayne reluctantly grinned.

“I’ll be sure I stop to piss before I get in the truck,” Wayne said magnanimously.

“For all our sakes, please do,” Cash said.

The engine rumbled to life, and it didn’t lurch into motion until Cash gave the back window a tap to let him know they were ready.

As always, Cash watched Wilder. His gaze darted over the landscape like it was brand new, following the dust with wonder as it flew up behind the truck and holding his hands out to feel the air blowing past.

Cash hoped this night was exactly what he needed. A reminder of all the good things he could have now that he was free, if only he’d reach out for them. The world stretchedout around them, endless with potential. The only bars holding Wilder back were the ones in his own mind, and he already held the key.

CHAPTER 20

WILDER

Roddy’s was downtown, an area of Roselake Wilder hadn’t had much cause to visit since his release. It was a new building, one of many. The sidewalks had been repaved. New, ornate street lights decorated the road, and careful landscaping created pockets of green in the otherwise concrete scenery. Clyde’s truck swooped into the parking lot and found a spot facing the road, which gave Wilder a perfect view of the bar itself. The façade was reminiscent of an old-timey saloon, but bright, neon letters spelled out the name in blue cursive. The lot was already half-full, and not for the first time, Wilder worried about how the night would go. How many of Roselake’s residents would be here? How many faces would he recognize? How many would recognizehim? He’d done a pretty good job avoiding going into town, and now here he was, throwing alcohol into the mix, as well.

Before he could convince himself to make an excuse and back out for the night, Cash was there, grabbing his hands and pulling him to his feet.

“Deep breaths,” he said softly as the rest of them disembarked. “We’re here to have fun.”

“I know.” His heart pounded, and more than anything, he didn’t want to let Cash’s hand go. It was a stupid, childish thought, like expecting a blanket over the head to protect you from monsters.

“If anybody wants to mess with you in there, they’ll have to go through me first,” Cash said, like he could read Wilder’s thoughts. He was the blanket.

Wilder nodded bashfully. No one had ever taken care of him before. He’d always been the one watching his own back, stepping up when somebody needed help, donning a mask to intimidate and scare away the problem when he had to. He didn’t have to wear a mask around Cash—Cash didn’t even want him to. Cash wanted to handle it, to care for Wilder, and Wilder wanted to let him.

“Come on,” Cash said, tugging him toward the edge of the truck bed. “Let’s go. They’re leaving us behind.”

It was true, none of the others had waited on them. That was just fine with him, though. He had to let go of Cash’s hand to clamber out of the truck, but their shoulders brushed as they walked toward the main entrance, and that was almost as good. Cash’s proximity was a balm to his anxiety.

The inside of the bar looked like a typical bar-slash-restaurant. The dance floor was the centerpiece, with raised platforms on either side for tables and booths. The bar was on the far side of the room, next to a pair of wide doors that led onto a patio with string lights. Most of the guys had gone straight to the bar or near the dance floor, but Cash tugged Wilder over to a table in a quiet corner, by the wood railing that overlooked the dance floor.

Wilder sat with his back to the wall, facing the room, and to his surprise, Cash grabbed his chair and dragged it around the table so they were sitting side by side. He ducked his head to hide his smile when their legs lined up from hip to knee.

Cash leaned right into his space, holding a laminated menu, and said, “Pretzels?” Their shoulders pressed solidly together, under the guise of Cash showing him the menu, and Wilder resisted the urge to lean in andinhalehis scent. Leather and musk and man.

“Yes, please.”

“Burgers?”

“I wouldn’t say no.”

“Drinks? I thought we could get two sample trays. The beerandthe sodas.”

Wilder shot him a teasing look. “Careful. I might start to think you’re trying to spoil me.”

Cash’s honey brown eyes were heated. “If you’ll let me.”

Wilder’s stomach swooped.

“Dessert, too?” Cash offered, flipping to a different page.

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