Dylan (Wild Men) Read online

  DYLAN

  MELISSA BELLE

  978-1-946307-07-1

  e-ISBN: 978-1-946307-08-8

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  Published in the United States of America by Autumn Ink Press.

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  This is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. All names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual situations or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

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  Copyright © 2018 Melissa Belle. All rights reserved.

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  No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, or distributed in any form or by any means, except for brief quotes used for the purpose of review, without the prior written permission of the author. Any trademarks, service marks, or product names are the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference.

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  Cover Art: J. Hunter

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Epilogue

  Coming Next!

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Melissa Belle

  About the Author

  To Jon. Home is wherever you are, babe.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Jasalie

  Working the Super Bowl after party should be fun. It sure sounds glamorous. And yet, it’s really just a crowd of oversized men and skinny, overly made-up women drinking and dancing and shouting. God, are football players loud. And big. I have to keep jumping out of the way to avoid getting trampled.

  Still, most everything is going well, and that’s great because it’s my job to make sure that it does. This is as high profile of an event that our marketing firm has ever done, and it needs to go perfectly.

  Until Bill insists I serve drinks for an hour to help out the exhausted waitstaff. I try to decline. I’ve never waited a table. I’ve done a ton of other menial work, but hospitality was never something I was good at. I’m not perky enough.

  But Bill, as usual, doesn’t care about my protests. He just pats me on the back, way too close to my ass to be appropriate, gives me a leering smile, and tells me to, “go get ‘em, slugger.” I want to tell him that the game’s over and nobody here appears to be a baseball player, but he’s already schmoozing up to a nearby group of men in suits.

  I glance around the room, overwhelmed at where to start. Bill said to find anyone who looked thirsty and offer to refresh their drinks. Noticing a woman on the nearby couch, I hesitate. But she’s normal-looking, in a good way. She’s beautiful, but she’s not stick-thin, and she doesn’t look high or like she’s trying to fuck the guy next to her. I think that’s Dylan Wild, the winning quarterback, by her side, if I’m not mistaken. But they’re just chatting and seem fairly approachable in comparison to the tongues-down-throat couples around them.

  Buck up, Jasalie. It’s just a few minutes out of your life.

  I walk up to their couch quietly. Just as I reach them, another guy sits down on the woman’s other side and kisses her cheek. I’m pretty sure that’s Colton Wild, the tight end who caught the winning touchdown pass. Geez, the two heroes of the game. Maybe I should have started with an easier group to try out my server skills on. But it’s too late now. I’m already standing awkwardly in their general space, and the woman looks up at me and smiles.

  “Can I refresh your drinks?” I ask in a voice even I can barely hear. I clear my throat to repeat myself, but the woman shakes her head politely.

  “No, thank you,” she says. “I’m all set.”

  The quarterback’s eyes meet mine, and he jerks his head back slightly. His presence is overpowering, and the cocksure way he’s looking at me proves he knows full well the affect he has on the opposite sex.

  “You weren’t our server before.” His dark eyes are like liquid chocolate, and the heat of his attention burns straight through me. His intense gaze hits me like a smack to the face, and I feel like I just got woken up out of a lifetime of being numb.

  I widen my eyes, trying to mask my body’s instant reaction to him. “No. I don’t normally do this. I’m with the marketing firm, but my boss asked me to help cover.” I shift from one foot to the other, hoping to get rid of the sudden sensation I’m feeling between my thighs. I can’t help noticing the way his body fills out his t-shirt and worn jeans, not to mention his gorgeous face.

  He quirks his lips. “Are you sure you work for a marketing firm and not a modeling agency? You’re the most beautiful woman in here, hands down.”

  Oh, and then he has to ruin it by saying something stupid. Something he probably says to every woman, and they all fall for his lies. I’m here trying to get him a drink refill, not snag a date. I take a step backward. “I’m sorry to disappoint, but I’m nobody special.” I turn to the tight end and include him in my next statement. “Congratulations on the win. That last play was quite spectacular.”

  Colton nods at me in thanks, but Dylan’s silent as he continues to assess me. I keep shifting on my feet, wishing he’d just order his drink and let me go.

  “I think you’re special.” He’s still turning up the charm, but his voice cracks just a bit, the only hint of vulnerability. “Maybe I can take you out?”

  My body is already begging me to say yes. My brain, on the other hand, is far too aware of the disparities between us, in every way.

  “You don’t want to go out with me,” I say in a hoarse tone. “And a one-night stand with the current athlete of the month isn’t anything I’m interested in.”

  Colton whistles. “Ouch.” His tone is playful as he reaches across the woman to slap Dylan on the knee.

  “You don’t like athletes?” Dylan smiles, and I actually almost swoon.

  God, he’s hot. But he’s way too arrogant. Do women really like this laying-it-on-thick shit? Of course they do—when it comes in that package, I’m not minding it myself. But that doesn’t mean I’m about to say yes. I have far too many worries of my own to get all screwed up in the head over a one-night stand, one that I’m sure would blow away any previous dates I’ve had and leave me all twisted up inside.

  So I stand my ground and say in a firm tone, “I don’t care about celebrities, or money, or whatever you think I’m going to fall for, so you can try to get laid tonight. Excuse me.”

  I give up on trying to refill his drink and flee. I race through the crowd, and I don’t stop moving until I’ve made it behind the bar.

  Dylan

  I’ve got a smile on my face as I stare after the tall blond server like she just flirted back with me, rather than the obvious “back off or else” response she gave me.

  Colton chuckles. “At least she was honest, huh? And she told you no, man. Kind of refreshing, actually.”

  Colton’s girlfriend, Skylar, tilts her chin in the woman’s general direction. “Dyla
n, you just asked somebody out! I thought you said that you were done with women and dating.”

  “That was before I saw her.” I haven’t felt this alive off the football field in ages. Maybe forever. “She’s the one. I’m taking her to Arizona with me next week. I need a date for the team event, or else the charity is a bust. And that woman is the only one I want.”

  Colton breaks into laughter. “Well, good luck with that, Dyl. She was pretty clear that she doesn’t have any interest in Dylan Wild the star.”

  “Exactly. And that’s exactly why she’s perfect.”

  Colton shakes his head and turns to Sky. “While my cousin’s figuring that shit out, you want to get out of here?” He whispers something into her ear.

  She kisses his jaw and whispers back to him. I smile to myself. I don’t need to hear what they’re saying to know their plans. They’re about to get married.

  Colton turns back to me. “Let’s round everybody up, man. You don’t want to miss this.”

  I grin. “No, I’m sure I don’t.”

  He slaps my back. “Nobody I’d rather have gone through a big game with, dude. You’re the best.”

  “We’re world champs right?”

  “And you’re MVP.” His eyes brighten. “I’m proud of you.”

  “We should have been co-MVPs,” I say. “You caught the winning touchdown pass.”

  “No fucking way.” Colton shakes his head emphatically. “You earned that trophy, Dyl. Four hundred passing yards and four touchdowns? That’s all you. That’s why you have that mega contract because we wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.” His face breaks into a grin as he wraps his arms around Sky. “But now Sky and I have a surprise planned.”

  “Hey, lovebirds.” I reach for my wallet. “Let me call a private plane. For your secret trip that you won’t tell anyone what it’s for.”

  Colton’s eyes flash with appreciation. “Thanks, man, but we’re staying right here in Sin City.”

  “And I’m involved? But I was about to…” Go find the woman I can’t stop thinking about.

  Colton cuts me off. “Of course you’re involved. You’re my best man.”

  I swallow. “I’d be honored.”

  Colton’s already calling to his mom. I’m about to follow behind them when the hair on the back of my neck stands up. For what reason I don’t know, but that’s always a cue for me, a sign that I should pay attention.

  I crane my neck around, checking my surroundings. What I see makes my blood boil. I clench my jaw and nod at Colton.

  “I’ll meet you guys outside in a few.”

  Jasalie

  After fleeing from Dylan Wild like an idiot, I enthusiastically ask a small group of players if they need drinks. They all hold up their nearly-full beverages to show me they’re fine, and I curse myself, realizing I should have glanced at their cups before offering refills.

  I grab a nearby tray of empty glasses and head for the bar. My plan is to drop off the glasses and then maybe find Lilla to ask her for some serving advice.

  I step around another group of guys, but in my hurry to push past them, I trip over an errant chair tipped on its side.

  And…

  I wipe out.

  Oomph.

  I’m flat out on my stomach, reaching frantically for my tray a few feet in front of me when someone touches my ass.

  “Grabs” my ass is more like it, and doesn’t let go.

  Yes, someone’s hand is stuck to my butt like it’s been glued there.

  “What the—” I jerk upward into a sitting position, forcing the hand off of me, and stare up at a glassy-eyed blond man squatting next to me. I have no idea who he is, and I don’t like the way he’s leering at me. Don’t like it at all.

  “Excuse me.” I lean away from him. “Would you please back off.”

  I don’t say it as a question, but his mouth curves into a creepy smile, and when he speaks, I realize just how inebriated he is.

  “You’re not going anywhere without me,” he says in a loud voice, and he reaches for me again.

  Shit. I really, really don’t want to have to pull out my self-defense moves here. Bill’s warned me about using them on clients—he says I scare away good business, and if I embarrass the company in the middle of a party this big and with this much riding on it, he may well fire me. But I don’t know what else to do.

  I lift my foot and take aim, prepared to kick the asshole in the nuts when—

  “Back the fuck away from her, Green, or I’ll do it for you.”

  I whip my head up to meet the lethal gaze of Dylan Wild standing behind the creepy asshole.

  Dylan’s eyes shift to me. “Are you okay?” he asks quietly, the concern in his voice evident.

  I nod. “Fine.”

  Before the guy can even move, Dylan’s hands are gripping his shoulders.

  “Back. Up. I’m cutting you off.” He drags the guy into a standing position and hauls him away.

  I exhale. Dylan Wild saved me. Not because I needed rescuing but because I need to keep this job. More than ever right now, I need this job.

  I wish I could thank him. But that would mean staying in the middle of a bunch of drunkards, and I can’t risk another run-in with some jerk-off who doesn’t understand personal boundaries.

  I grab my tray back off the ground and hurry off to the safety of the bar.

  Dylan

  By the time I get security’s attention and have my wasted teammate thrown out of the party, the woman he harassed is nowhere around.

  Not that I can blame her. She’s probably wisely telling her boss that she’s not going to get these drunk assholes drinks anymore. I hope she’s telling him that because the thought of her working here when I can’t be around to watch out for her bugs me.

  “Hey!” I turn to see my cousin, Ayden, waving at me from a couple feet away. “Let’s go! Colton said we’re on some sort of a timetable.”

  Wthin minutes, I’m in the back of a limo with my four Wild cousins and Colton’s best friend, Jenson.

  We drive across town, far away from the glitz and glitter of the Strip, and every second I feel the gorgeous gray-eyed server slipping away from me.

  We file into a nondescript chapel that’s completely empty except for our group. A short while later, Jenson’s five-year-old twin sons act as ring bearers and walk down the tiny aisle to the altar with Jenson making sure they don’t veer off-course. Colton and Sky beam at each other and exchange vows that they wrote themselves. Colton’s mom cries with joy, and both the bride and groom choke up. The ceremony is quick but feels warm and intimate with all the love surrounding our tight-knit group. When Colton picks Sky up and kisses her on the altar, an involuntary twinge of envy hits me as I realize Colton’s really found the love of his life. I’m not looking for a serious relationship, so where did that sensation come from?

  I remember the beautiful server from earlier. She appeared in front of me, and just like that, I knew she was the date I wanted with me in Arizona.

  Except she ran like the wind when I tried to ask her out. Granted, I acted like an ass, flirting with her like that. I should have toned it way down and actually tried to talk to her, but I’m so out of practice with any kind of normal interaction.

  I swallow as Colton and Sky raise their hands and step down off the altar as husband and wife. We all clap and cheer and then go to a hole-in-the-wall bar for some celebratory drinks. But I can’t get the gray-eyed server out of my head. I think about her for the rest of the night, hoping she’s okay. I kick myself for not trying harder to get her number.

  What I really hate, though, is that the incident with my teammate harassing her proves what I’ve always feared—bringing someone into my crazy life is a bad decision. It’s dangerous enough for me to maneuver my way through the minefield of fame and money, but to invite someone else into the fray? It’s just not realistic, not for the long haul. Colton’s able to navigate all of this shit with a woman by his side, but as the quarterb
ack, I’m the face of the team, and the number of eyes on me is a thousand times greater.

  So it’s probably for the best that I’ll never see the server again. I guess some things aren’t meant to be.

  CHAPTER TWO

  A Week Later

  Jasalie

  I stare down at the letter in front of me on my kitchen table for the hundredth time this week.

  Dear Ms. Jasalie Adorlee Gordon,

  I represent Tucson Entertainment & Casino Properties, and I’m hopeful you can be of assistance in a matter concerning Ms. Marianne Gordon. We tracked down an old insurance form that has you listed as her beneficiary and names you as her daughter. I’m hoping, because of the match of your unusual middle name, that you are indeed the right person.

  As you may or may not be aware, Marianne Gordon has amassed twenty-five thousand dollars in gambling debts. Her debt needs to be settled, or we will be forced to execute the lien on her house. Your mother is not responding to any of our letters or phone calls. If Tucson Entertainment & Casino Properties does not receive payment within sixty days, ownership of the property will automatically default to us, and legal action will be taken, which will include eviction and possible incarceration.

  The attached card includes the current information we have for your mother on file. Let me know if I can be of service.

  Sincerely,

  Tym McBooth

  I grab the attached card again like I’m an addict looking for a hit and stare hard at the address. I don’t know why I keep looking at it—I had the whole thing memorized days ago. But this is the first hint I’ve received of my mother’s whereabouts in over twenty years. And if I’m completely honest with myself, the chance to help out the woman who gave birth to me—to right her wrongs—tugs at the long-closed recesses of my heart, despite myself. My mother left me at the age of four to fend for myself, and not a day has gone by when I haven’t missed her. The idea of having a place to call home, when I’ve always felt homeless, makes my chest ache. I have a momentary fantasy of finding my long-lost mother, paying off the debt, and reconciling with her. Then the two of us would move in together in Arizona, the place where everything went so wrong all those years ago and she gave me away to save herself.