Page 2 of The Last Thing (Baker Girls #4)

CHAPTER TWO

WILSON

Get me out of this fucking monkey suit.

I hate fitted button-downs. I hate suit coats. I hate uncomfortable shoes. I loathe ties.

A choker of oppression. And not in any kind of fun way.

If it’s not a tee or a flannel shirt and jeans or sweats, I don’t want it.

But an old buddy of mine got married today, so here I am, in a city—not my place, not somewhere I ever enjoy being—in a fucking suit and tie so I could stand up with him while he got married.

I don’t regret it, but I’m praying no one else asks me to be in another wedding any time soon. My few high school buddies I kept in touch with are married or uninterested in the idea, so hopefully I’m out of the woods.

Not until I’m home tomorrow, though.

Enjoy yourself. Have some fun.

I’d like to believe my mother’s words when I left her house were not encouraging me to hook up, but they might’ve been. She’s been on me to find a partner for years now.

Not necessarily a woman. She doesn’t care how I identify or who I choose, but she thinks I should have someone. And Soph should too.

Though my eight-year-old daughter Sophia loves that it’s just the two of us, she occasionally asks about having siblings. Even though that’s the last fucking thing I can think about right now.

We’re moving into a new apartment next weekend. It’s a beautiful space right in a small town about twenty minutes from my hometown of Lacy Creek, and it’s closer to the offices of the construction job I’ve been working for the past few years.

Though we’ve been living with my mom in Lacy Creek for most of Sophia’s life, it’s time to break out on our own.

It’s time for me to have some space.

Pulling the tie over my head, I set it down on the counter and order a drink.

It’s time for me to enjoy myself.

I crack my neck a couple of times, and when a cold beer is placed in front of me, I take a few long gulps, then look around the bar.

I picked this one because it was the closest place to where my buddy had his reception that didn’t seem seedy or too upscale.

I’m a blue-collar country boy and feel out of my element enough here. All I wanted tonight was a chill place to grab a drink and food—so far, it’s hitting right.

In the corner are a few people playing darts, and as I skim the rest of the bar area, I notice two guys who look strangely familiar. It takes me a second to place them, but when I do, I school my features.

Two of the New York Bandits are a few feet from me.

Part of me wants to go ask them for autographs for Sophia.

She’s been obsessed with the Bandits ever since she got to meet one of their players earlier this summer when the company I work for renovated an apartment for him back home.

Apparently, he’s a small-town boy at heart.

But I’m not going to be the weirdo who walks up and claims to know their teammate, and they deserve the ability to get some drinks without someone stalking them.

Still, my eyes follow them as they walk back to their booth, and when they get there, I can’t look away, but for an entirely different reason. A gorgeous woman with an athletic body and long dark blonde hair gets up so they can sit back down.

Fuck .

If I don’t want to bother the football players, I really should not be staring at their friend like that.

I spin on my stool, but can’t stop myself from peeking over my shoulder again. When I do, I find stunning amber eyes staring back at me. She winks, then goes back to her conversation.

My cock thickens in my pants and I curse myself because all I want is for my night to end with her body trapped beneath mine while she screams my name.

I’m not staring like a total creep. It’s forced me to keep my eyes on the Boston Revs game playing on the TV, but staring like a knuckle-dragging moron isn’t how to get the girl.

But when I hear movement behind me, I look over my shoulder.

The football players are headed toward the end of the bar where the cash register is.

“Hey, Ronnie. Can I get another beer?”

The dulcet voice comes from my other side, and as I spin toward it, my arm brushes hers, setting off a volcano inside me.

The woman I’m determined to spend my night with.

All honey-brown hair and a beautiful smile.

For a moment, I almost second-guess myself.

She looks young. But as long as she’s over twenty-one, that’s all I care about.

“Sure thing,” the bartender says.

The woman’s eyes land on me. “Hey.”

My full attention turns to her. “Hi.”

She tilts her head slightly, watching me with a smile. “Let me guess. You’re not from around here.”

I chuckle at that. “What gave me away?”

“This is my favorite little hole in the wall. And most everyone who comes here is either a regular or meeting up with someone. Plus, you look like you’d rather set that suit on fire than wear it.”

“Very perceptive.”

She shrugs. “I’m good at reading people…”

I offer her my hand. “Deck.”

She stares at me for a moment, then shakes my hand, a wicked smirk on her face. “Like a porch?”

I instantly groan, but she just laughs. Trouble dances in her wild eyes, and it only makes me want her more.

“It’s a real name.”

She nods dramatically. “Of course it is. I know lots of people named Terrace. I even have a close friend called Veranda.”

Behind the bar, the bartender—Ronnie, I guess—stifles a laugh.

“Fine, what’s your name, then?”

“Hm… you can call me H.B.”

“H.B.? That’s not a name.”

“So judgmental, Deck .”

The bartender gives up and walks away from us, laughing loudly.

“Plenty of people use only their initials. Or would it be better if I added a name after it? H.B. Wells?”

I give her a flat look, but can’t stop the corners of my mouth from tipping up.

“Fine, you’ve got me. It stands for Heavy Bananas.”

“Well, I believe the bananas part.”

She gasps in mock offense, running her hand down my arm and making flames erupt beneath the surface of my skin.

“Okay, really it’s Honey Badger.”

“I’m glad you’re having fun with this.”

She shrugs. “Life’s too short not to have some fun, right?”

Her voice takes on a sensual tone, and my gut heats.

“Fun was exactly what I was looking for tonight. Then I saw you…”

“I promise, I’m plenty of fun, Patio.”

I let out a huff of a sigh, and her smile grows.

Goddamn.

“How old are you? And I need the real answer for this one.”

“Twenty-three,” she says easily.

Above my minimum age limit. Still a smidge younger than I usually go for, but I can’t deny the hold she has on me.

“Any proof of that?”

“I could show you my ID, but since you started the whole stupid name thing, I feel like it’d be giving you an unfair advantage. Hey, Ronnie!”

He appears again, eyes set on me.

“How old am I?” she asks.

His brow furrows and he glares at me. “You put something in her drink?”

She laughs and waves a hand. “No. He’s being upstanding and making sure I’m not a lying high schooler. But you don’t serve underage kids.”

His gaze hardens. “No. I don’t.”

“And did you ever buy my fake ID?”

He grins at her. “Not for a second.” Then he looks at me. “She’s twenty-three and has been driving us all insane for years now.”

“Aw, thanks, Ronnie.”

He shakes his head as he walks away, then she leans in closer to me.

“He knows my parents, and I used to babysit for his kids. He’d never serve anyone alcohol who’s underage. Especially not me. Good enough?”

I nod.

“And how old are you?” she asks.

“Not old enough to be your dad.”

“The perfect age, then, Back Deck.”

“You’re going to drive me crazy with that, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know, Deck . Am I?”

I swallow the throaty growl that tries to come out.

“It depends if that’s how you’re planning to say my name all night.”

She swirls her finger in a circle over my hand, and the sensation goes straight to my cock.

“Well, that depends on how good you are at giving me what I want.”

A dark laugh slips out. “You’re going to get me into trouble, aren’t you, Hells Bells?”

“Hells Bells, huh?”

“It fits.” Leaning in, I whisper, “You seem like a little hellion.”

She leans in even closer, her lips almost brushing mine. “You have no idea.” Then she lightly pinches my arm and smiles at me. “You want to find out?”

I throw fifty bucks down on the bar—enough for my meal, drinks, and a tip, then turn to her.

“As long as you’re good with this being one night. You’re right, I’m not from around here, and frankly, I’d like this to be a night of fun that can be a fond memory of the city.”

“Thank God. I was worried you were going to ask for my number—or my full name. I’m here for fun, and that’s all.”

I slide off the stool and offer her my hand. “Let’s go.”

“One thing we have to do first.”

She leads me over to the table where she was sitting earlier. The football players are gone, but there’s still a blond guy who looks a lot like her minus a different eye color and a woman with dark hair and curves for days.

The guy stands up, expression hard, and crosses his arms over his chest.

“This is who I have to get approval from?” I ask, trying to seem trustworthy but also not look meek.

“I’m Justin, the older brother. The guys who just left are the two professional football players that’ll help me hide your body if you hurt her.” He looks at the little hellion next to me. “Location on?”

“Yep. Shared with you.”

“Good. Now, for posterity…” He digs his phone out and takes a picture of me. Then he spins his finger. “Turn to the side.” I stare at him for a moment. I don’t like being told what to do, but I can appreciate him taking care of his sister. So I turn to the side and let him take another picture.

“Thank you…”

“Deck.”

He gives me a derisive look that quickly turns menacing again.

I hold up my hands because as fun as a little shit-giving might be, I want him to know she’s safe. It’s different, but if it were Sophia, I’d be a hard-ass too.

“We’re not doing full names, but I don’t have a secret identity, I promise. With my picture, you can find me. I won’t hurt her.”

He stares at me for a beat longer, then gives a subtle nod.

“Ready to go, Hells Bells?”

Hells Bells? the other woman mouths.

But the hellion just puts a finger to her lips.

“I’ll text you that I’m alive later.”

“You better,” her brother says, keeping his voice low and grumbly.

I almost want to tell him I’m not interested in fucking around—but in a very literal sense, that’s exactly what I’ll be doing. Not in a fuck around and find out way.

Tonight is not about me getting my dick wet, it’s about having fun with this wild woman at my side and making sure she enjoys every second of it too.

“Let’s go,” she whispers.

Hand tightly wrapped around hers, we leave the bar.

“You know, when you said you wanted to have fun, this isn’t quite what I thought you meant.”

She laughs, eyes bright, as she stares at the carnival across the street.

“You look like you need to relax a little. Have some fun. Let loose. I’m fully invested in all forms of fun tonight, but you’ll enjoy yourself more if you loosen up first.”

“Okay. I’m in.”

At least I’m wearing sneakers and jeans now. We passed a department store, and she sent me in to put on clothes that didn’t make me “look so cranky.”

Now I’m in my standard attire. White tee, jeans, and sneakers, plus the backward Metros ball cap I grabbed while I was waiting to check out.

Again she takes my hand, and it’s impossible to ignore the crack of electricity I feel. It burns up my arm, going straight for my chest, every time she touches me.

“Let’s go.”

I can’t remember the last time I went to a carnival.

My mom usually takes Sophia to the local fairs in the summer while I’m working, but me?

Fuck, when was the last time I let myself have fun or did something just for me?

The tenth of never.

So I let all my inhibitions go and follow the hellion as she drags me through the carnival.

We laugh our way through the funhouse with all the mirrors, then she dashes over to get some cotton candy.

Her smile is bright and intoxicating.

She’s just… free.

And it lets me channel that feeling, if only for a night.

She sways back to me and holds out a piece of cotton candy. I take the whole thing in my mouth, my tongue brushing her fingers.

Her eyes lock with mine, going a little hazy for a second… until she spies something over my shoulder.

“Games!” Grabbing my hand, she drags me over to a row of carnival games, going straight for the one where you toss darts at balloons.

We both get four darts, and as she picks her first one up, she looks at me. “Want to make it interesting?”

“How so?”

“Winner decides what we do next.”

“Okay. What do you want to do if you win?”

“Hm. Carousel. What about you?”

My eyes go up and to the right. “Ferris wheel.”

She smiles brightly. “You’re on.”

We throw at the same time, lightly shoving and trying to distract each other, but when all is said and done, I get three and she gets one.

“Looks like we’re going on the Ferris wheel,” I say smugly.

She shoves my shoulder. “You’re lucky I don’t cry on them like my sister does.”

“Don’t forget your prizes,” the attendant says.

“Which one am I picking from?” I ask.

The attendant points to the prizes for scoring three points, and my hellion whispers, “You should get the rabbit.”

It’s a floppy, light gray rabbit, and when I look down at her face and the expression shimmering in her eyes, that’s exactly what I get.

“Where are my prize options?” Hells Bells asks.

“Right over here.”

She runs around the side of the booth to where there are a variety of necklaces, then she laughs loudly and grabs one. “Perfect.”

She’s tearing the plastic open as she walks over to me.

“One for you and one for me.”

She holds something out, and it takes me a minute to realize it’s one of those necklaces that’s half a heart, and she has the other half. The one she gave me says “true.” Hers says “love.”

She smiles brightly. “Now you’ll always remember the night you met your true love.”

The sassy, spunky look on her face sends me over the edge, and I grab her by the side of the neck and pull her lips to mine.

And fuck.

Fuck me.

She pulls me closer, twisting her tongue around mine as she kisses me back.

God damn it. It’s been too long since I’ve gotten laid.

I must be desperate, because I swear a kiss has never felt this damn good before.

Her fingers curl into my hair, and I wish we weren’t at this carnival. I wish I was buried deep inside her.

When a groan slips out of me, she breaks our kiss and stares up at me, wide-eyed, but then her face morphs into a devilish smile as mischief dances in her eyes.

“Race you to the Ferris wheel.”

She takes off running, and for a second, I stare at her.

I was fully prepared to be a sulky, grumpy asshole with only my hand to get me off in a lonely hotel room tonight, but this woman changed everything.

Her sassy brightness makes me want more. So much more. Since this is the only shot I get, I’m going to make tonight count.