Page 35 of Wild Card (Men of Action #4)

“Five seconds to get your ass to my truck or I’m not responsible for what happens next.”

She narrows her eyes, challenging me until I take a step forward, and she leaps into action.

I let her scoot past me and lock up behind us. She’s typing on her phone in deep concentration until we’re halfway to Clyde’s.

“Okay, I think it’s all rearranged. We’ll have to be quick. Hopefully, Rowan isn’t having a major crisis.”

“There’s not a major crisis.”

“How do you know? She sounds frantic.”

“Because if there was even the hint of a crisis, Ford would handle it.”

“Some things even badass Marine-slash-law officers can’t fix.”

“Care to bet on that?”

“She’s a bride, Talon. Weddings are stressful and unpredictable, issues arise.”

“She’s Ford’s bride, which means he won’t fucking let anything stress her out.”

“You mean you’ll all handle it. Because she’s Rowan.”

“She’s Ford’s.”

“I know that, honey. I’m not criticizing. She’s Rowan and she’s had a hard time in the past few years. She deserves nothing but beautiful in her future. Ford will make sure she gets that. And he has the three of you at his back. Hence, if something goes wrong, you’ll all handle it.”

My gut turns at the reflection in her expression and tone. Willow hasn’t questioned my devotion to her since that morning she overheard the conversation in the kitchen. She doesn’t bring up the kidnapping often, and when she does, I try to appease her curiosity without feeding into her imagination.

But it’s easy to read that it’s on her mind at this moment. She’s thinking of my relationship with Rowan.

I bring her hand to my lap, knowing what I’m about to say may send her spiraling.

“You have a lot of that right, baby, but you’re also off-base. When I said Ford’s bride, I mean it’s also Ford’s wedding. He may not give a shit about the details, but he fucking knows she will get what she wants.

“Just like I know when it’s my woman, it’s my wedding. You get whatever you want. Something unpredictable arises, you stress, I’ll handle it.”

Her eyes bulge and hand goes into a death grip. “Talon?—”

“You have many people who love you, Princess, including me. I come with a shitload of people who will support you, but it’s me who has your back. Always. Someone fucks with you, they fuck with me. Not many people want to fuck with me.”

Her eyes well up and she covers her mouth as a quiet sob escapes. “Damn you, Talon. Don’t make me cry on your birthday.”

“You crying because you’re freaking out?”

She shakes her head. “I mean, you just told me I’d have the wedding of my dreams or someone would answer to you, which could mean a variety of nefarious things. Why would you think I’d freak out?” Even in tears, the woman throws sarcasm my way.

“Glad you’re not freaking.” I kiss her knuckles and smile, pulling into a reserved spot in the back of Clyde’s.

Her phone rings and she frowns at the screen.

“Who’s that?”

“My mother.”

“You want to answer it?”

She shakes her head, tossing the phone to me. “Will you hold this?”

The way she blows it off is too easy, and my instincts kick in. “This the first time she’s called since the hospital?”

“Nope, but I haven’t answered.”

“How many times?”

“Does it matter?”

“You don’t want to hear what she has to say?” I don’t think much of Stacy, but maybe she’s finally come to her senses and is ready to apologize. Or better yet, grovel for her daughter’s forgiveness.

“There’s a variety of things she could be calling about, and the range is too broad for me to deal with. For the first time in forever, my world is fucking amazing.”

Pride and protection blaze through my system. “Glad to be a part of it, baby.”

“She doesn’t get a piece of today. Maybe I’ll call her next week.” She doesn’t wait for me to get to her, meeting me in the front of the truck. “Outside of the glassy eyes, how do I look?”

“Better when you put on your jacket.”

The glossy sheen disappears and she huffs, “Fucking caveman.”

I take her off-guard, bending and swinging her up in my hold. “Put me down!”

“Nope.” I take off toward the employee door.

“Do not carry me in there.”

“Oh girl, this is not new to us. You won’t believe the things that happen within these walls.” Cruz swings the door open and steps aside. “Thank goodness you’re finally here. We have been waiting forever.”

“Sorry, but we don’t have long. I made plans for Talon’s birthday.” Willow struggles to get down. I follow Cruz through the store to the bridal area where Rowan, Ford, and Shayla are waiting.

Rowan and Shayla are sitting with flutes of champagne with Ember chatting away. Ford is waiting specifically for me, jerking his head in approval at our arrival.

“Oh, girlie, I like accessory. Navel rings are like a macho man kryptonite.”

“Thanks, I got the blue gem for Talon’s birthstone.” Willow beams.

“Now we know why you weren’t answering your messages.”

“What’s going on? I thought there was a situation?” Willow climbs out of my arms, ignoring Crew’s jab.

“There is! I need you and Shayla to get these dresses on ASAP!” Ember points to two dresses hanging on dressing room doors.

“Why?”

“Can you stop asking questions? Get dressed.” Shayla struts into the first room, leaving Willow confused.

“Go, baby.” I urge her toward the second room.

Her phone vibrates with an unknown number and I forward it to her voicemail, wondering if her mom’s trying new tactics.

A few minutes later, they emerge and my whole body goes on alert. “Abso-fucking-lutely not!”

“Shhh,” Ember hushes me, signaling the girls to a raised platform surrounded by mirrors.

Shayla turns and twirls, bending and popping her hips in every direction.

Willow resembles a deer in headlights until Rowan springs up and stands between them. Ember snaps a few pictures and then instructs them to exchange dresses.

We repeat the process with my blood pressure skyrocketing at the second dress. I count to ten while Ember gets the pictures, but it doesn’t calm the storm brewing inside. “Hollywood, do anything for you, but these dresses aren’t going to cut it.”

“Talon! You don’t insult the bride’s choice of gowns,” Willow chastises, shooting me an evil glare. Then she turns to Rowan. “Don’t listen to him. He has no couth. The dresses are lovely, but why am I trying them on?”

Rowan leers over Ember’s shoulder at the phone. “They look extraordinary.” She fidgets with her ring and chews on her lips.

“For God’s sake, Nervous Nelly, ask her,” Shayla prompts.

“Yeah, I’m feeling the anxiety from down here.” Cruz steps up to Willow and sweeps her hair into a twist. “Oh my, this is quite the love bite.”

Willow gasps, twisting to the mirror to see the mark I left earlier. “Talon!” Her sharp cry is more of a squeak.

Ford coughs to cover his chuckle and I smile proudly.

“Okay, here goes.” Rowan takes another drink, draining the glass and turning her attention to Willow. “I wanted to ask you something. We haven’t known each other long, and this may be weird. Don’t feel obligated to say yes.”

“You have to ask her a question for her to reject you.” Shayla sounds bored.

“Will you be a bridesmaid in my wedding?” The question comes out in a rush.

“A bridesmaid? Like an alternative if Harley can’t make it?” Willow almost whispers.

My shoulders tense and I step forward, Ford doing the same when Rowan inhales as if she’s been struck.

“Not an alternative. And not in place of anyone. I’d love to have you in my wedding. But if it isn’t your thing…”

Willow glances between Rowan and me in complete shock, her gaze dropping to her dress as it dawns on her. “Yes,” she croaks on a broken breath before clearing her throat. “I’d love to.”

“All you have to do is pick out the dress. Ember and Cruz will handle the rest.”

“Here, pick which one you like best.” Ember shows her the pictures.

“You set up this elaborate ruse for me to pick out a dress?”

“We had to get you here today in case the dresses needed alterations. But they both fit perfectly.”

“How’d you know my size.”

Cruz drops her hair and waves a hand in the air. “Puuuhlease. Clocked your size and measurements the day in the park. Ordered these the next day.”

“You ordered me a bridesmaid dress months ago for a woman I’d never met? That’s ludicrous.” She swings her head my way. “Did you know about this?”

“I did.”

“We weren’t even close to dating!”

“Princess, you were the only one in denial.”

“I-I-I, we, stop being so arrogant!”

“Actually, I am the one who made the call.” Ford steps to Rowan’s side. “Saw it coming and made the suggestion to Cruz to have options on hand.”

“Made the suggestion?”

“Babe, Talon borrowed a dog to get to you. It wasn’t too far off-base this was coming.”

Willow’s face flames and I chuckle at the impending rant.

“Ford Whitman, I like you. You’ve always been cool to me, but what you did was presumptuous, audacious, daring, brazen, and frankly ass backward.”

“Damn, she pulled out the audacious on that one. Presley would be proud.” Ember giggles.

“I wouldn’t call it ass-backward, but the rest is correct,” Rowan says wispily, peering at Ford with adoration. “He knows me pretty well. Even though we hadn’t met, he knew I’d want you to be a part of my special day.”

“Did you think I’d say no?” Willow calms her tone.

Rowan shrugs. “I hoped not, but Talon said you had a lot happening and I didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

“Don’t listen to him. I can handle myself fine. He’s overprotective.”

“Hardly overprotective with your current schedule and all that’s coming up.”

Willow spins, propping her hands on her hips. “I’ll have you know…”

Anything else she says is drowned out by the ringing in my ears. The sharp movement made the dress sway and the slit reveals almost her entire leg. The inside of her thigh has small marks similar to her neck and my blood rushes south.

“Good God, these men are savages.” Cruz hums approvingly. “Hope you can control yourself before the wedding.”

“What are you talking about?” Willow follows the direction of his finger and lets out a cry. “Talon!”

“No promises with that dress. Need to find something different,” I tell Cruz, Shayla, and Ember.

“Both dresses fit perfectly. She can think about it and let me know,” Shayla chirps, disregarding my tone.

“Let me rephrase, neither of the choices work.”

Willow lets out a strangled cry and stomps down the platform to stand in front of me. Her pupils are wide, the shade of emerald sharp.

“You are lucky it’s your birthday and I’m happy, or else you’d be pissing me off.”

“Baby, I’m lucky for a lot of reasons that have nothing to do with my birthday. And you pissed off isn’t a threat.”

“Don’t be sweet. Shut your bossy mouth and let me enjoy this.”

I dip down to kiss her forehead and swat her ass. “Get dressed, we apparently have somewhere to be.”

She jumps, rushing to the dressing room. “I got wrapped up and lost track of time.”

“Not a problem, we knew your time was limited,” Rowan calls to her, watching me with bright eyes.

“Do you know what today is all about?”

Ford’s smirk is my confirmation.

“You all know?”

“Your woman fucking rocks.” He almost sounds jealous.

“We gotta go, honey.” Willow steps out, still not wearing the damn jacket.

I have no idea where we’re going, but she isn’t fucking stepping foot into another place showing her stomach with that damn piercing. “Jacket.”

“No need for it. Hand me your keys.”

The thought of covering her flees. “Why?”

“Because I’m driving.”

A hush falls over the room. She feels the change and glances around. “What?”

“Not driving my truck.”

“Why not?”

“Because I drive.”

“That’s highly sexist.”

“Call it what you want.”

“And this is the other reason I’m here,” Ford speaks up. “I’m driving. Let’s roll.” He takes Rowan’s hand and she waves to the others, following him out the door.

“Oh, Good God, no time to argue.” Willow snatches my elbow, and I allow her to pull me out as she calls her goodbyes.

Ford shoots me a look, silently conveying to get in the truck and deal with it.

Willow and Rowan rattle on about the wedding as Ford drives.

“Want to give me a hint here?”

He side-eyes me and the side of his lip curves. “Another few miles and you won’t need any hints.”

He taps his fingers on the steering wheel, grinning haughtily.

Asshole is enjoying this.

He veers off to a reserved road, and I’m instantly aware we’re on the rear side of the airport where the private hangers are located.

“Told you, man, your woman fucking rocks.”

He drives around to a large building where a jet is waiting. Beside it are Sterling, Chase, and Bex.

“What the hell?”

The chatter in the back has died down and Willow seems nervous. “I had this idea, but I could only pull it off with some help. Which avalanched into my dumb family crashing. Well, except for Wyatt, he’s too young.”

“Crashing what, exactly?”

Rowan bounces in her seat like she’s on a springboard.

“We’re going out of town,” Willow relays.

“I gathered that.”

“We’re headed to Bristol.”

There’s only one reason everyone is acting the way they are about Bristol. It’s not a huge town and it’s known for one thing. My mind and heart race at the realization.

“I know you’re an adventure and adrenaline guy. And I racked my brain trying to bring those two things together. We’re going to Bristol Motor Speedway, and you get to be a racecar driver for the day.”

Holy fucking shit. I fight the urge to haul her into my lap and show her what this means. There will be time for that later.

“Princess, you are fucking perfect.”