When We Were Us (A Timber Forge Series Book 1), page 17
Even at thirty, all she has to do is bat those eyes at me, and I am literally incapable of saying no to her. Plus, it’ll give me a reason to keep an eye on Wren, and make sure the dickhead over there keeps his hands where I can see them.
“All right.” I nod and she fist pumps the air.
“You guys want another round?” she asks as she leans into the bar.
Hudson and I share a look. It’s like he’s asking if I can behave.
“I think we’re good,” Hudson says.
She leans in and orders five shots of tequila and five beers, one for each of the girls. Then, she grabs both our hands and walks us over to their table just as Wren comes back from her dance with Archie. Finn slides further into the booth, and Wren follows in behind her.
“Look who I found, ladies!” she says and raises both her arms, taking our hands with them.
Wren turns her head in our direction when Hayley pushes Hudson toward the table.
My little sister then turns to me. “Ooooh, I love this song! Hank, dance with me?” she asks, brightly, holding my arm up and spinning herself underneath it.
I don’t relish the idea of sitting at the table while trying to keep my eyes off Wren. So, I tip my head in the direction of the dance floor and smile down at my baby sister. Hayley lets out a whoop before she picks up a shot glass, slams the liquid back, and grabs my hand again, pulling me out onto the dance floor.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
wrenley
Archie walks me back to the table just in time for me to catch sight of Hank. He looks ridiculously hot as he follows along behind Hayley, with Hudson in tow behind them. He’s wearing a heather-gray T-shirt and a black variation of the same light material cargo pants I’ve come to know is his standard uniform. The ones that hug his ass so well.
I scoot into the booth behind Finn and try not to stare. He’s without a hat tonight and his chocolate hair is pushed back in perfectly messy waves as if he’s been running his hands through it all night. He’s got that permanent scowl on his perfectly scruffy face, and lately, it seems to be turning me on more than pissing me off.
God, he’s hot.
That scowl is immediately replaced with a reluctant smile when he looks down as Hayley nudges him.
“Ooh, I love this song! Hank, dance with me?” She lifts his arm and does a little twirl before he nods. She lets out a holler and takes a shot of tequila before pulling him away.
Hudson slides into the booth next to me and bumps my shoulder with his.
“Hey, Wren,” he says. Draping a long arm over the back of the booth behind me, he gives a lock of Finn’s hair a light tug. “Hey, Jameson.”
Finn leans across me and pulls his arm hair with a little snicker. “Ow! What the hell was that for?” he says, rubbing his arm, but there’s no malice in his voice. I swear they live to torment each other.
“I’d say I’m going to separate you two, but I already am, and it’s not doing any good.” My gaze bounces between the two of them, each sitting on opposite sides of me.
Norah laughs from across the table. “Just don’t let your guard down. The way those two are constantly picking on each other, you're liable to lose an eye if you don’t watch out.”
For the next two songs, the five of us chat while Hank dances with Hayley. I keep catching glimpses of them on the dance floor, and every time they come back around, they’re chatting and laughing together. It’s nice to see Hank with a smile on his face, even if I’m not the one to put it there.
It’s so confusing being around him. One second, we’re at each other’s throats. The next, he’s super protective, sweet, and caring. Then, he’s distant and aloof. Whatever. It doesn't even matter because, once the house is sold, I’ll go back to California to try to fix whatever is left of my life, and he’ll stay here. It’s probably best to just leave well enough alone. At least we aren’t fighting anymore.
I need to focus on why I came here and leave Hank out of it. Easier said than done in this small-ass town.
Turning my attention back to the conversation, I just catch the tail end of it.
“Hales said they’re still looking for volunteers and donations for both the silent auction and the homeless shelter, too,” Norah says.
Hudson nods. “I’ve got a check for her, and Paige has been helping Mom all week with posters for the bake sale.”
“Wren, you and I should volunteer for the dunk tank. It’ll be just like old times,” Finn says around a mouthful of peanuts.
I picture myself perched on the small, wooden platform suspended above a tank of too-cold water. Just a sitting duck for the residents of Timber Forge to take their shot at dunking me. It’s the literal last thing I want to volunteer for.
“Isn’t there something a little less…wet I can volunteer for?”
I actually hadn’t thought about volunteering or even attending really until Mrs. Hayes had expressed her concern over not having enough volunteers. My mind had been on that voicemail Derek left, and then I’d run into Hank for the second time in as many days. I wanted to run out of there as fast as my feet could carry me, but I’d been pulled into a conversation and didn’t want to be rude.
Norah lifts her chin in the direction of the dance floor, where Hayley and Hank are still spinning around. “I’m sure Hank and the guys could use someone to help with the animals, since that’s more up your alley,” she says.
Finn and I exchange a look.
“No one needs to see Jameson in a wet T-shirt either,” Hudson says, reaching across me and snatching Finn’s water as my mouth drops open in shock.
“Rude!” Finn says. “Also, get your own drink, mooch!” Finn slaps his hand, but she doesn’t seem the least bit offended by what he said. “Besides, I have an amazing rack. Anyone would be lucky to see me in a wet T-shirt.”
“That’s exactly why I said it.”
I eye Hudson as they bicker back and forth across the table on either side of me.
This conversation feels weird. This is weird, right?
I look around the table, but no one else seems to think it’s strange that they are talking about Finn’s boobs. It is either a normal occurrence or they aren’t listening. It’s the only explanation. Nat is scrolling her phone and Norah is picking at her cuticles. Not listening, then.
I make a mental note to talk to Finn about it later. Between tonight and the two of them so cozy on the couch at Finn’s, there is definitely something there.
He takes a long pull on her straw and lets out a long, “Ahhhhhh!” with a wide grin.
“Jackass,” she mutters as he hands back her half-empty drink with a smirk.
They literally have not changed a bit in the last seventeen years.
Like she isn't an active participant in the weirdest conversation ever, Finn looks at me and says, “If you have any clothes or blankets you want to unload from your grandparents’ house, I’m sure they could use them at the homeless shelter. I’m taking some stuff to donate over to the ranch in the next couple of days.” She chucks a rolled-up straw paper at Hudson.
“Mom said they really need blankets, towels, and both men’s and women’s clothes. With everything already donated, she said this could be one of the biggest years yet. That goes for fundraising, too,” Norah adds and nods toward me. “Anything the shelter here can’t use will go to the big one in Billings. I’m sure they’d appreciate anything you could add.”
“Sounds great. I already have four big boxes I was looking to take to Goodwill.”
I feel my phone vibrate in my back pocket and pull it out. Another text from Derek. You’d think he’d give up after being ignored. No such luck.
Derek
You can’t avoid me forever, Wren.
Stop being a bitch about this and answer me.
Don’t make me come there. Trust me, you won’t like the outcome.
The messages are getting more belligerent as time goes on, and is he threatening me? Hell. I know at some point I’m going to have to have a conversation. Derek never treated me badly when we were together, but now that I’m not just giving into what he wants, he’s starting to show his true colors.
Swiping the message away without a reply, I slide my phone back into my pocket.
“Whew!” Hayley fans herself and pulls her long, light brown hair off the back of her neck as she sashays back to the table. Hank’s a step behind her.
“Thanks for the dance,” she says and plops down next to Hudson. She looks across the table and lifts her chin at Norah. “Shove over, Norah, so Hank can sit.”
“I think that's the most Hank has danced in years. I’m surprised you even remember how to two-step, Gramps,” Hudson says as the twins scoot toward Finn. I watch as Hank folds his six-foot-four frame into the itty-bitty booth with a grunt and a small smile at Norah. To Hudson, he makes a face and mouths, fuck you.
He drapes a long arm along the back of the booth and takes the offered water glass Norah hands him, bringing it to his lips. Long, thick fingers casually grip the water glass, and my eyes move over his forearms—
God, what is it about a man’s forearms? I remember the way he grabbed my arm in the kitchen, yanking me against him. A dull throb starts in my core when I think about those hands on me.
I watch his throat work as he swallows. His Adam’s apple covered in stubble might just be my new favorite thing.
Is it hot in here?
“Wren?” I hear Finn call my name as if from underwater, and then Hank clears his throat.
My head snaps up and I catch him watching me. Scratch that—he catches me watching him. He has a sexy smirk on his face, his eyes are all dark and intense, and there’s no scowl in sight.
Damn.
I’m already caught. So, I slowly drag my gaze from him to Finn. I hope I sound casual as I say, “Sorry, what?”
“I need the restroom.” Finn gestures beside me, where Hayley and Hudson have moved. They are standing beside the table, waiting for me to move my ass so she can get out of the booth.
“Right. Sorry,” I say, sliding across the seat in an awkward lift, scoot, and lift motion.
Finn slides out and stands, before turning back, patting her pockets as if she’s looking for something.
“Does anyone have a hair tie?” She addresses the table of women. “It’s hotter than balls in here.”
“Here,” comes Hudson’s reply. He fishes underneath his watch and pulls out a black hair tie from around his wrist.
“Thank you, Huddy,” she says. “Thank God for girl dads.” She smiles and pats his chest before gathering her hair up in high ponytail.
He gives her a wink.
A deep voice with a rough country twang comes through the speakers.
“This one’s for all the ladies in the house tonight. If you feel like stompin’ those boots and singin’ at the top of your lungs, come on out to the center of the dance floor! The band is gonna take ten. Come on ladies, let's see what you got!”
Finn stops in her tracks. Her gaze is trained on the lead singer as she grabs my hand tightly.
My brows shoot up into my hairline in question. “I thought you had to pee?” I ask as the opening chords of Shania Twain’s “Any Man of Mine” ring out.
Norah and Nat immediately high-five each other and Hank climbs to his feet so they can jump up. Hayley gives a loud ‘whoop!’ before throwing her hand in the air like she’s swinging an imaginary lasso.
“Oh, hell…I’ll pee when I’m dead!” Finn hollers and starts toward the dance floor.
“You coming, Wren?” she says, turning back to me.
“Uh, no. I think I’ll sit this one out,” I tell her above the blast of the music.
“Bullshit! You didn’t get dressed up like that to sit behind a table all night. Come on!” she tells me with a smile and yanks me in that direction.
We spend the next hour doing exactly what the lead singer said: stompin’ around the dance floor. Just me and the girls. And it feels amazing.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
hank
I track Wren’s every move across the dance floor, while absently spinning a bottle cap between my fingers. Hudson is yammering my ear off about some mix-up they had at his bar last week. Something about too much foam.
I hear the words “CO2” and “glycol” and I nod every once in a while, but I’m barely listening. For one, I am not a beer guy. Second, I can’t think of anything but Wren’s long legs in that dress. From her shapely calves, all the way down to her toes, and the nails that are painted a bright pink. She has my complete attention.
An image of her wrapping those gorgeous legs around my waist flashes before my eyes, and I have to reach for a sip of water to ease the dryness in my throat. She’s unclipped her hair from the sides, and under all these neon lights, her cheeks are slightly flushed. She licks her lips, tipping her head back on a laugh as Finn leans in and says something in her ear.
Fuuuck.
Every stomp of her feet and sway of those hips, every time she turns and her hair fans out around her—it all goes straight to my dick. She dances to song after song as she, Finn, and my sisters laugh and belt out song lyrics. She is light on her feet, carefree, and completely at ease. Perfect. Then again, Wrenley has always been perfect to me.
It’s then that I realize Hudson’s gone quiet and is watching me.
“What?” Purposely averting my attention from the dance floor, I stare at Hudson blankly.
“Ask her to dance.” His expression is serious now.
As I look back out to the dance floor, her words from the other day echo in my mind. You’re a good man.
My head and my heart war within me, and I’m even starting to piss myself off. This isn’t like me. I’ve never been insecure. Never doubted myself or been indecisive or questioned my ability to pick up women. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell Hudson to fuck off again, and that she doesn’t want anything to do with me. My lack of response has him screwing his face up in a what the fuck? expression.
“Hank, what are you, fifteen? You’re not asking her to marry you. It’s one damn dance.”
What is it about this woman that simultaneously turns me on and makes me feel like an anxious kid with sweaty palms?
I’ve only ever been with two other women in my life and neither of them even came close to making me feel what this woman does. And I’ve never even been inside her.
Fact is, I am damn tired of pretending like Wren doesn’t have this effect on me. That’s what pisses me off so much. Because she’s made it abundantly clear that she doesn’t need me. Doesn’t want me. But the way she leaned into me and held on to me like I was the air she needed to breathe…tells me otherwise.
Hudson raises his chin toward the dance floor. “Sandburg sure doesn’t have a problem asking her.”
I follow his gaze as the band plays the opening chords of “Don’t Let Me Let You” by Mitchell Tenpenny, and I see Douche Boots is back, dragging Wren up against him. He spins her away, all long hair, legs, and swishing fabric.
A flash of anger ignites in my chest and that’s all the encouragement I need. I’ll be damned if I sit here and watch this again.
I push to my feet and throw back a shot of leftover horrible, cheap tequila. The burn only adds to the fire that's ignited inside me.
My legs eat up the ground as I stalk across the dance floor, with my eyes trained on her back. I vaguely register a surprised Finnley dancing with some guy as I pass her and head straight for the prick that has his hands on my girl.
My girl. I almost roll my eyes. She isn’t mine. But she damn sure isn’t Archie Sandburg’s either.
I clamp a hand on his shoulder as I come up to them. “Take a walk, Sandburg,” I half growl.
He drops his hand from her waist. She blinks up at me as I push him back and step in between them, turning my back on him.
“What the hell, Hayes?” I hear him yell before I spin Wren away, but he knows better than to say any more.
I grab her around the waist with one arm and haul her against me, wrapping her right hand in my left. She stares up at me, dumbstruck. But she doesn’t pull away as her left hand moves to my shoulder.
God, she feels amazing. She fits perfectly against me, just like she always has.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
wrenley
“That was incredibly uncalled for.” I try to sound offended as my cheeks heat. I should pull back and make him apologize to me and to Archie, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t glad that he’d cut in. My stomach gives a little flutter because I can feel every inch of him from chest to thighs.
“What’s uncalled for is having to watch that asshole put his hands all over you.” His grip tightens possessively as he slides his hand from my waist up to my back.
My eyes shoot up to look at him in surprise. “His hands were not all over me.”
“One more minute and he was losing teeth.” His voice is hard, but his eyes are amused.
His thumb brushes the skin just above my dress, and that contact alone has every cell in my body coming alive. And God, he smells good.
A feverish flicker sparks in my belly and goosebumps break out over my skin. I shift my gaze quickly around us and lower my voice. “For your information, I can dance with whomever I want.”
Hank leans in again. His breath flutters against the sensitive skin below my ear, so light I would miss it if my body wasn’t screaming for this man's attention. “You trying to piss me off, gorgeous?”
The endearment slips from his lips. The words whispered are so teasingly intimate, and his confident tone so different. It is a welcome contrast to the daggers he’s been throwing my way for weeks.
