Wild Girl (Wild Men Texas #3) - Melissa Belle Page 0,22

t-shirt, at his tanned skin…

His eyes burn into mine as we look at each other.

The ache between my legs is so intense…

I turn away from him and start riffling maniacally through my purse. I’m looking for something—anything—to distract me.

My diary peeks out from underneath my wallet. I grab it in relief and wave it in the air.

“How about I read another one of these entries to pass the time?”

“Mace…” he warns.

“One that’s not too…intimate,” I promise.

“How about the last one?”

“My last entry? You mean the one from Vegas?”

Logan’s cheeks go red, and his eyes flash. “No. I don’t want to hear that one.”

I raise my eyebrows in surprise. “Why not?”

“Because. I just don’t.” He clears his throat. “I meant why don’t you just go in order from where we were?”

“Okay. Great.” I exhale in relief that I have something to do with my mouth other than kiss Logan like I’m craving. I whip open to a page, not paying attention to what entry it is. “Let’s try this one.”

Daddy was passed out at a table, and Mama slumped in the corner booth. She started rambling to me about last weekend’s bar brawl and how the police came an hour ago and took The Cowherd’s liquor license away.

“Your father and I just made our divorce official today. But with another lien on our house, who knows when we’ll actually split up…we’ve already been living here two weeks.” Mama started to cry. “And we’ll have no customers after tonight. Of course we won’t—we’re a bar with no liquor! Remember when this happened before and you were the only one able to get the mayor to change his mind?”

I reassured Mama I would do my best, and then I sent her off to bed in the chapel pews before helping my father into his own pew and putting a blanket over him.

I walked into the liquor room and made sure I saw six eyes blinking back at me just like Mama taught me the last time we lived in the saloon.

I sat down on Riley’s cot. “Y’all are still awake.”

“We waited for you.” Ben’s face peered up at me from his sleeping bag on the floor. “Can you believe it? A bar with no beer?”

“We’re totally screwed,” Riley said.

“One story, please Macey,” Free begged me.

I laughed. “Y’all are too old for bedtime stories.”

Free sniffled. “It’s been a terrible day. I want the story. Please?”

Pity made me forget to feel sorry for myself, and so I told them the same story I used to tell them every night when they were much littler. “A long time ago, a witch was paid off by a jealous wife to put a curse on Jane Austen’s ghost…”

I looked over at the cell and wondered how much longer we’d all have to live here. At least Mama and Daddy get to sleep in the chapel where I’m certain holy ghosts reside, not cursed ones.

I told my siblings to go to sleep and kissed them each good night.

This entry wasn’t the best choice. It’s probably the hardest one for me to get through emotionally. Remembering that night and how burdened I felt…

“Sounds like the killing of innocence.”

Logan’s voice surprises me, and I jump.

I jerk my head up to look at him, and he touches my bare knee gently. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to read this one.”

I shake my head. “I’m fine.” I turn back to the diary.

I closed the door tightly, secured the booby trap of a hanging pail that only our family knew about, and went back to check on my parents. Mama was sitting in a booth, her permed hair limp and disheveled, and overall looking forlorn. I felt guilty walking away.

But I’d already missed tonight’s Pep Rally and Homecoming Dance, thanks to being the only bartender my father can afford to keep because I’m the only one who will work for free. I’m also underage, but that’s been overlooked in this town for years, so what’s one more year till I turn eighteen?

I was dressed for the dance and that made me feel okay for being a bit selfish, so I slipped out the door without Mama seeing me and walked through the fields behind the bar until I reached the Wild Ranch house. I stopped outside Logan’s bedroom window.

He came out after just one stone hit the pane.

Logan breaks into laughter. “Can’t believe you never shattered the glass. Your stones weren’t dainty pebbles.”

I smile. “Hey, there was no such thing around your yard.”

I looked