Captured by Mr. Wild: Chapter 5
Captured by Mr. Wild (The Men Series – Interconnected Standalone Romances Book 4)
I CANâT GET THE sight of Daisy swimming away this morning out of my head. She probably thinks I didnât see her. Or hopes I didnât. But Iâve lived on the lake for years. I know every sound that comes with the dawn. The ones that are always there, and the ones that arenâtâlike the splash of my childhood friend diving into the water.
My childhood friend who grew up into a womanâwith incredible breasts.
âFuck this, Betsy. You want to go for a run, girl?â
Her ears prick up at the word ârunâ and she leaps down from the sofa on the back porch and gives me an excited bark.
âThatâs a yes, then?â I laugh as her tail hits me in the calf as she runs down the steps and looks back at me expectantly.
âOkay, girl. Let me grab my sneakers.â
We run for an hour. Through the woods behind the lake and up to one of my favorite viewpoints, set high on a rock edge. You can see all of Hope Cove from up thereâits sandy white beach curling around the small-town center with its family-run businesses lining the street. Itâs quaint; I guess. At least thatâs what the tourists seem to think when they stay on their way to and from LA. The hotel set on the outskirts of town seems to attract the wealthier guests. Ones who arenât opposed to paying inflated prices for a spa massage with hot stones.
I smirk. I spend days in the outdoors, covered in mud, and my skin is just fine. They should bottle that and sell it at fifty bucks a jar.
When we get back to the house, I check my phone. I leave it behind when me and Betsy go out. Whatâs the point in getting out in nature if youâre going to be answering calls and reading tweets and shit like that?
Trav: Hey, want to meet at Herbies later for a drink?
I smile as I reply.
Me: Kayla got no plans for you?
Trav: Nah, sheâs off out somewhere.
Me: Sounds good. See you later.
âWhat do you reckon the deal is, then?â I ask Trav as I grab up a handful of peanuts from the bowl on the bar and drop them in my mouth.
âYou know they find traces of urine in those, donât you?â He raises an eyebrow and then shakes his head as I grab a larger fistful and shove them in, holding his gaze as I chew.
âYouâre pure filth sometimes, you know that?â
âThatâs what the ladies say.â I smirk, which earns me a chuckle.
âWhatever, man. Thatâll be why youâre still single. You know married people get more sex than single people?â Trav lifts his beer bottle to his lips and takes a swig.
I turn to gape at him. âWho the fuck says?â
He shrugs. âI donât know. Some study in one of those magazines that Kayla reads.â
âThey obviously asked the wrong people.â
My gaze wanders over to Cindy, whoâs serving another customer further down the bar. She tips her head back and laughs as the guy says something to her and slips her a fat tip.
I turn back to Travis. âI mean, youâre here, drinking in the one bar in town with me. Hardly having wild sex right now, are you?â
âBack at you.â Travis grins and then frowns as he looks past me at Cindy. âYou two still hooking up?â
âHey, I donât kiss and tell, man,â I say, my eyes glancing back over to where Cindyâs twirling her light brown hair around her finger as she talks to the guy she just served.
âThis is Hope Cove, Blake. There are no secrets.â He gives me a pointed look as I let out a sigh.
âIt was one time. Thatâs it. We spoke about it, and I thought she agreed it was a one-off. But then she texted me yesterday. I was meeting you guys for dinner. And then Daisy showed up, and I went straight home after dropping her off. I didnât even think much of it.â
Truth be told, me and Cindy were never anything other than a mistake. A momentary lapse. Two people looking for something else but finding each other for one night instead. Judging by the giggle thatâs floating up from the other end of the bar, Iâd say sheâs over it too.
âBlake Anderson turning down a no-strings fuck. What did you do with my best friend, dude?â
âJackass.â I shake my head and smile at him as I take a drink.
âSo, what were you saying? Before we were side-tracked by piss-covered nuts and non-marital sex.â Trav looks at me as I place my beer bottle down on the bar and trace my fingers up and down its spout.
âDaisy, man. Whatâs her deal, do you think?â
âDonât you mean Dee?â
âExactly!â I blow out a breath as I look at him. âDonât you think itâs weird? She goes AWOL online three years ago and then shows up here out of the blue, looking all different.â
âPeople change, Blake,â Trav says, looking over at me.
âYeah, but like that? You remember her. She was⦠Daisy.â I blow out another breath as I rub a hand along my jaw, over my beard.
Trav shakes his head. âFuck. I knew it. You never got over her leaving, did you?â
âItâs not that!â I fire back before grabbing my beer and downing half of it.
âSure looks like it.â Travis raises his eyebrows as he watches me.
âShe was our friend, Trav. She still is our friend. I just donât like the feeling that somethingâs up with her. People donât change that much, do they?â I turn to look at him and he shrugs his shoulders.
âMaybe some do.â
I turn back to my beer, my jaw tense as Cindy approaches.
âYou staying for another?â she asks, cocking her head to one side, her heavily mascaraed eyes dropping over my chest and back up again.
Travis stands up and slaps a hand on my shoulder. âIâll leave you to decide if you want a night-cap. Speak to you soon, man.â
âYeah, catch you later,â I reply, avoiding Cindyâs gaze.
I tip my head back and drain the last remnants of my beer as she watches me.
âNot tonight.â
âMaybe next time?â She raises an eyebrow at me as I stand, dropping her eyes down to my crotch and back, a small smile tugging at her lips.
âYour friend down the end there is missing you,â I say, jerking my thumb in the guyâs direction she was just giggling with.
She purses her lips. âHeâs just another tourist, Blake. Here today, gone tomorrow.â
When I say nothing, she looks back into my eyes.
âI know you donât mean it, Blake. Weâre good together, you and me.â
I was wrong. Sheâs not over it.
Fuck.
I run my hand back through my hair and glance to the ceiling as though the magical solution to re-iterating our recent chat about our lack of future will appear before my eyes. She said she agreed with me. That she wanted more and knew I wasnât willing to give it.
âThings change, Cindy. Weâve spoken about this,â I say softly, not wanting to hurt her.
Sheâs a nice girl. Sheâs just not my girl. She never has been.
âYou say that. But people donât change, Blake. Not really.â She looks at me with what seems like pity before turning and heading back down to the other end of the bar.
I leave Herbies and take the twenty-minute walk back to my house. Betsy jumps up from her place on the back porch and runs to greet me, panting in excitement.
âHey, girl.â I bend down to ruffle her ears and kiss her head.
Thereâs a light shining behind her, across the other side of the lake, coming from Daisyâs kitchen window.
I stand and look over at it for a long time as Cindyâs words play over in my mind.
People donât change, Blake.