Wild and Free: A Second Chance Romance (The Wilder Brothers Book 1)

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  COPYRIGHT PAGE

  Wild and Free

  The Wilders Book One

  A Second Chance Romance

  By Nicole Elliot

  Hi Kittens!

  An accident leads to a perfect twisty tryst for Jessica and Lucas.

  This is the first in a new series by moi, the second book is also available now!

  xxx

  Nicole

  ONE

  Jessica

  “You know, I spend more time at this pub than I do with people my age,” I said.

  “Or men,” Bianca said.

  “Hey, I heard that.”

  “Oh, don’t be so serious, Jess. I’m just picking on you. Sort of. But don’t feel bad either. I’m the same way. I work overtime at this damn pub and it leaves me no time to find a man to spend my time with.”

  She wasn’t kidding, we were always here. And always together, she was my roommate after all.

  “I don’t know if I want to find a man to spend my time with. What I do know is I need a decent foot massage.”

  “A man could do that for you, and rub a couple other things too,” she said, winking. “Crap let me grab that table. Old guy looks like he’s about to fall off his stool. Also, table ten is waving at you.”

  I sighed and took care of my customers, who had apparently been waiting for drinks they ordered from Bianca. Figures. I had been working at Southern’s Pub and Tavern in Charleston, South Carolina for damn near ten years. I started working there illegally right out of high school and never looked back. I took college courses when I could and eventually graduated with an associate degree that would aid me in becoming a dental hygienist, but I hadn’t spent the money or taken the time to test for some of my certifications in order to snag jobs in the field.

  So, I was a full-time waitress and part-time bartender at Southern’s.

  It took up most of my time and my life. I pulled a decent income, so I couldn’t complain. Enough to keep my head above water and pay off the couple small loans I took out for my degree. Living in Charleston was expensive, to say the least. Which was why Bianca and I bunked together in a very small apartment not too far away from the tavern.

  But working fifty plus hours a week thrown into not having my own place of my own made for a very pathetic love life.

  She wandered back over to me and set down an empty beer glass. “I cut him off, where were we… oh yeah your last love.”

  “Derek. Yeah no thanks. I’ll buy me something I can stick my feet in that’ll massage them for me.”

  “Fucking hell, Jess. Derek was five years ago. When are you going to get over that?”

  “When are you going to get over Thomas?”

  “Thomas was a dickhead asshole that I married who left me for a couple. Not a woman, and not a man. A couple and their kids. Because I didn’t want kids right off the bat. I mean, who even does that?”

  “Thomas, apparently,” I said, grinning.

  “At any rate, you and Derek only saw each other for a few months. I get you fell hard and I get he was an ass—”

  “He was a manipulative ass. And I let him do it, too.”

  “You didn’t let him do anything. You were just dickmatized. It happens.”

  “He didn’t really have that big of a dick to make me ‘dickmatized,’ as you so wonderfully put it.”

  “Then why the hell did you stay with him?” she asked.

  “His tongue was fantastic,” I admitted.

  “At any rate, I’m sure we could find you guy who has a nice tongue and cock. The two of us have been celibate long enough. I’m going on three years, and you’ve surpassed five. It’s unnatural, what we’re doing.”

  “I bought a very decent boyfriend a few months ago, I’ll have you know.”

  “Very decent? Every single man out there has something he’s ‘pretty decent’ in when it comes to the world of the bedroom. And he’ll pay for you. Dinners. Drinks. Lingerie. Get yourself a richer one and he’ll actually pay.”

  “Are you talking about a sugar daddy?” I asked.

  “No. Just a man who appreciates the fine woman he would get with you. Jess, set your standards higher.”

  “If I went with all my standards, I’d be celibate for the rest of my life.”

  “Or you’d find the man you’re supposed to be with.”

  “At this rate, I don’t think he exists.”

  “That’s it,” Bianca said as she slapped her rag onto a table.

  “What’s it?”

  “I’ve heard you talk like that long enough. We’ve been celibate for years, and not always by choice. So, I’m going to find us some men.”

  “Yeah. You do that,” I said flatly.

  “No. Really. I’m going to find us two wonderful, good, decent, big-dicked men with tongues of fire and words of sensuality.”

  “What does that even mean?”

  “I don’t know, but it sounds good, right? It’s what I’m going to find us.”

  “How can you find it if you don’t know what it means?”

  “Can it, Jess. You’re ruining my moment where I get to save your ass. You’re always saving mine. Like the time you bailed me out of the police station.”

  “I picked you up after you got into a fight with one of the patrons of the pub,” I said.

  “He shouldn’t have grabbed my ass. Oh! And the time you came over after my break-up with what’s-his-face?”

  “All of them?” I asked.

  “Exactly.”

  “Bianca, I live with you. Of course I’m going to be there for you. It’s literally what I am all the time.”

  “You’re ruining my moment. Shut up. Anyway, you’re always bailing me out of shit and there when I need you. So, I’m going to be here for you now in your years of need.”

  “I’m not sure if that was a reassuring statement or a jab at my self-confidence.”

  “Both. Now get your ass in gear. It looks like table 19 needs attention.”

  “Last call for alcohol!”

  I winced at the loud voice of the bartender before I looked over at the clock. Was it really last call already? I grabbed a tray and began to bus tables. Any tables. It didn’t have to be my tables. Because after this shift was up, I had a long weekend ahead of me. I took a day off for the first time in two years leading into a weekend I wasn’t scheduled to work, and I was ecstatic. Part of me cringed at the tip money I’d be missing out on, but my sanity was worth a little more than that. I stacked empty shot glasses and beer bottles and plates onto the tray, then tossed it over my head and weaved my way through the tables.

  Then, I passed by Bianca as she held her arm out and stopped me.

  “What? I’ve got a tray full of drinks,” I said.

  “Remember how I said I was going to find you a man?” she asked.

  “Not this again. One of us has to work.”

  Bianca took the tray from over my head before yanking my arm and spinning me around.

  “Feast your eyes on the man I just chose for you,” she said.

  Of course Bianca would pick some stumbling ass drunk to hook me up with. The man was slumped against the doorway of the tavern, his eyes glassy and his face pale. Maybe in another light, he would’ve been attractive. His messy blonde h
air and tall stature were appealing. And his muscles. Wow. His arms bulged with strength and his legs were long and chiseled. The dark-wash jeans he wore were practically painted on him, showcasing every asset he had.

  I kind of wanted him to turn around.

  His eyes scanned the bar and I caught a glimpse of his darkened stare. I couldn’t tell what color his eyes were, but my guess was hazel. Or possibly gray. Either way, my eyes lingered a little too long on the man in the doorway because I felt Bianca nudge me.

  “Told you so,” she said.

  “He’s drunk, so thanks for that. Now I get to go break his heart and tell him we can’t serve him anymore alcohol.”

  “Gets you talking to him. Told you I was a genius.”

  I rolled my eyes and shook my head as I started over for the man. The closer I got to him, the more handsome he became. And the bigger he got. If he wasn’t bent over from his drunken state, there was a good chance I didn’t come up to anything more than his chest. His arm was wrapped around his stomach and his breathing look labored, so I grabbed a small trash can in the corner and brought it along with me.

  No use in a random stranger creating more of a mess for us to clean up.

  “I’m sorry, sir, but we can’t serve you tonight. You’re a little too drunk and we’re about to close up,” I said.

  The man lifted his eyes to me and I got a glimpse of the steely gray eyes his face beheld. And his chiseled features left me breathless. There was sweat permeating his brow that dripped down his prominent cheekbones, and his nose anchored a strong resistance to his face. He tried to take a step forward but stumbled again, heading straight for my body. I dropped the trash can and caught him, then braced myself for the onslaught of puke I knew was about to happen.

  But instead of throwing up on me, he groaned and sank to his knees.

  “Sir, are you all right?” I asked.

  His breathing became more labored and I looked over at Bianca. She cocked her head before she set the tray of glasses down, then I watched her rush to the telephone. The man’s sweating blonde hair pressed into the crook of my neck and I hated how much I enjoyed his breath on my skin. Something was wrong with him, and all I could think about was how warm his lips felt against my pulse point.

  “I don’t need a drink,” the man said. “I need your help.”

  “Bianca!” I exclaimed.

  “Already on the phone with 9-1-1,” she said.

  “Come here. Let me lay you down. How much have you had to drink tonight?” I asked.

  I eased the man down onto the floor as my hand cupped the back of his head. My eyes darted around his body, trying to figure out what was wrong. If he was drunk, I didn’t want to lay him down and risk him choking on his own vomit. He was too heavy for me to roll over if that was the case. I threaded my fingers through his hair to try and keep a grip on him, and the moan that fell from his lips was unmistakable. My eyes whipped back up to his and I watched a crimson blush trickle across his cheeks.

  It was a mesmerizing color against his tanned skin.

  “An ambulance is on the way, but the woman over here is asking me for specifics,” Bianca said.

  I gazed into the man’s beautiful gray eyes before I drew in a deep breath.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked. “Can you tell me that much?”

  He coughed, sputtering spit that had a twinge of red to it. My eyes widened and they dropped down his body, looking for any sort of wound that would cause something like that. My eyes traveled down his neck, taking in the veins that were popping from his skin and screaming for help. They grazed down his chest that tugged against the tight fabric of his shirt. I shook my head and kept dancing my eyes around him as his hand moved. Trembling and pale, he grabbed the hem of his shirt.

  “Don’t move. I’ve got it,” I said.

  I reached for the fabric of his shirt and slid it up before my eyes widened in horror.

  “He’s been stabbed!” I exclaimed.

  “What!?” Bianca yelled.

  “Tell the emergency operator that this man’s been stabbed in the stomach!”

  TWO

  Lucas

  I groaned as my eyes fluttered open. Shit. How could I have been so fucking stupid? Working on a ladder like that in the dead of night because I couldn’t sleep was not a good thing. It was hard to peel my eyes open, as if they were glued shut with the crust of a drug-induced stupor. I drew in a deep breath and sat myself up, groaning at the pain that shot through my abdomen. I winced as my body relaxed against the pillows of the hospital bed while the rhythmic beeping of machines echoed in my ear.

  And the darkness of my sight drew me back into that bar.

  I’d never forget those bright blue eyes. Big, bold, and filled with panic. Her blonde hair had been pulled back into a thick braid that boasted of the amount of hair she had on her head. Her rounded cheeks lent an innocent demeanor to a petite woman, and I could still hear her panicked voice yelling in my ear.

  He’s been stabbed!

  The phantom grip of her hand was still on the back of my head. The way her delicate fingers threaded through my hair? I couldn’t even hold back the reaction I had to it. Her touch was caring and concerned, and the way she tightened her grasp in my tendrils made so many images flash through my mind. Images I couldn't stop and heat that trickled through my veins I couldn’t dissipate.

  I hope I hadn’t made too much of an ass out of myself.

  “Well, Mr. Ab Wound, I’m glad to see you up and about,” a calm female voice said.

  “I think you could’ve done without the ‘about’ part,” I said.

  “Here, let me help you with those eyes.”

  A warm washcloth came down around my face as the crust was slowly wiped away. My eyes fluttered open and the sharp lighting of the room made me squint. Every muscle contracted as I went to sneeze, and the searing pain that rushed through my body made me nauseous.

  “On a scale of one to ten—”

  “Eleven,” I said. “The pain’s an eleven.”

  “I see this isn’t your first rodeo then. You know, your brother was in here a few weeks ago with a cut in his hand.”

  “Comes with our profession,” I said.

  “So, while I get you some stronger pain medication, you want to tell me what happened?”

  I looked over at the nurse for the first time and took her in. She was older, with wisps of gray and white in her hair. There were large bags underneath her eyes, which told me she had worked through the night on her shift. She fiddled with my I.V.s before drawing out a syringe, then she screwed it into the tubing and slowly pushed something in that immediately made me feel warm and relaxed.

  “Couldn’t sleep last night, so I went to the site my brothers and I are currently working on,” I said.

  “You mean the house you guys are restoring,” the nurse said.

  “Yep. All of the windows have to be replaced, and I knew storms were rolling in over this weekend. I figured I could kill two birds with one stone: work myself until I was tired and get the windows put in before the rain kicked up.”

  “Well, you almost killed yourself. They found little slivers of glass in your wound. If those had gotten into your bloodstream, it would’ve been a bad day for all of us.”

  “I’m surprised you haven’t called my family yet if you know who I am,” I said.

  “Everyone around here knows the Wilder family. You guys are local legends. Some of the richest people in Charleston hire you guys to restore houses to their former glory after purchasing them for their own families.”

  “At least we have a decent reputation.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” the nurse said with a grin.

  I chuckled, but despite the pain medication, I still felt a twinge of discomfort.

  “Did you not have a cell phone with you while you were working?” the nurse asked.

  “That was the stupid move in all of this,” I said.

  “That was the stupid move? Not the
‘working until all hours of the night’ or the ‘going up a ladder by yourself’ or the ‘slipping and falling onto broken glass’ part?”

  “In my defense, the glass wasn’t broken before I fell into it.”

  “Well, it sure as hell is broken now,” she said, giggling.

  I smiled and shook my head as I peeled the hospital blanket up. I was lucky, despite trying to make light of the situation. My injuries could have been much worse. Hell, my injuries could have killed me had that glass window shattered in any other pattern than the one it did. I looked down at my bare stomach and saw a significant amount of gauze. That wasn’t good. And there were twinges of blood permeating through the top of it as well.

  “Here, it’s time for me to change that dressing anyway,” the nurse said.

  She pulled the blanket from my fingers and began to slowly peel the tape from my skin. And when I took in the sheer amount of stitches, my eyes widened.

  “Forty-two stitches on the surface and thirteen dissolvable stitches inside. The piece of glass was jagged, so some punctures were deeper than others.”

  Fuck. I wouldn’t work for weeks with this type of injury.

  “Do you want me to give your family a call now that you’re awake?” the nurse asked.

  “Yeah, just my parents though. I can tell my brothers over dinner,” I said. I didn’t need their mocking or shit right now.

  “Ah, the Wilder brothers at dinner. I can only imagine the amount of food necessary to feed an occasion like that.”

  “Trust me, you don’t want to. We all practically eat our weight in food at that one specific meal.”

  “Well, don’t make it a habit of eating like that and then going to work. We’re only equipped to handle one of you brutes at a time,” she said, smiling warmly.

  “Are you flirting with me?” I asked playfully.

  “I’m much too old to be flirting with a man in his thirties, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have a little bit of fun.”

  “You can’t be any more than forty yourself.”

  “Well, then I’ll take it, seeing as I’m fifty-two.”

  “Fifty tw—! No, you’re not.”

  “I really am. Fifty-two with two grown boys and a sassy girl who’s about to graduate high school. I had them young.”