Wild Thing Read Online Free PDF Page A

but you can call me Candy.”
    Fisher leaned forward and caught Hunter’s eye. “Sweet.”
    “And I’m Randy.”
    Trapper took a swig of his beer and grinned. “Even better.”
    Hunter cleared his throat as he looked from Candy to Randy, feeling like a piece of meat slapped between two slices of Wonder Bread—bleached with no nutritional value. Not that he had a problem with that, but at the moment, all he wanted was to have a private conversation with his brothers. “If you ladies have finished eating, you should go put on some layers. It gets really cold up here at night.”
    One of the male models strolled over, sat beside Trapper, and gave him the once-over. “Looks like the party’s here. I’m Ari.” He scooted closer to Trapper. “And who might you be?”
    Hunter enjoyed watching Trapper squirm. He wondered how PC his big brother would be if Ari ended up on his lap, which seemed to be the model’s objective.
    Trapper stood. “Trapper Kincaid, Judge Trapper Kincaid.” Taking advantage of his full six-foot-four height, he looked down at Ari. “Hate to break it to you, Ari, but we don’t bat for the same team, and I’m not a pinch hitter either.”
    “A judge, huh? I always wondered what they wore under their robes.”
    Trapper sat his hat on his head and adjusted the angle. “Clothes.”
    Fisher snorted beer out of his nose, and Hunter tossed him a napkin. “Don’t mind Fisher. He’s just learning to eat in public.”
    Yvette laughed. “I gathered that.” She gestured at Fisher. “You uh… have a little corn stuck in your teeth.”
    Ari stood locking in on his second target. “I have dental floss back in my cabin if you need some. It’s Oral-B.”
    Fisher laughed. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ve got some fishing line back in the truck.”
    Hunter stood and collected the plates. “It’s getting cold. I’m going to get my jacket. You might want to do the same.”
    He moseyed toward the trucks with his brothers. “Finally, before we get interrupted again, tell me what Dick Sommers found out. You said he had seven possibilities?”
    Fisher took out his Swiss Army knife, pulled the toothpick from its sheath, and poked it between his teeth.
    Trapper took the last swig of his beer and tossed it in a waste barrel. “He’s checking them out.”
    “Which sucks.” Fisher ran his tongue over his teeth.
    Trapper stopped and looked over. “Why? At least we have something to go on.”
    “Sure, but what are we doing? Nothing. I thought this was a family thing.”
    Hunter nodded. “Fisher’s right. We should all be more involved. After I finish up the season, I’ll fly to New York and see what I can hunt down. We can’t let Dick Sommers have all the fun.”
    Trapper raised an eyebrow to that. “And I don’t suppose this has anything to do with Toni Russo or the models who were just plastered to you, does it?”
    Hunter just smiled at Trapper. “Jealous, older brother?”
    “Hardly.”
    “Trapper, get real. I’m free from September through mid-November, and I want to help Ben and Gina find Rafael.”
    Fisher laughed. “Sure, okay. But let me just say, if I were going back to New York anytime soon, I’d sure as hell look up any number of the models at this shindig. Look at them all.”
    Trapper chucked him on the arm. “Ari would love that. I’ll make sure he gets your number.”
    “No thanks. He went after you first. I don’t like playing second fiddle.”
    “But Hunter’s throwbacks are okay?”
    “Damn straight—the operative word being straight , which, unfortunately for Ari, we both are. Right?”
    Trapper laughed. “I know I am, little brother. Is there something you want to tell us?”
    Hunter opened the back of his Land Cruiser. “Are you two done yet, and do I have to remind you that these people are our clients? You can explore your sexuality later. We’ve got work to do.”
    Trapper rocked on his heels. “Lord knows we’re going to have our hands full just keeping