WILDER DAYS

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WILDER DAYS Page 4

by Linda Winstead Jones


  There was comfort in a kiss. She’d forgotten that. She had also forgotten what it was like to be swept away by physical sensation. To feel as if she were melting, as if her knees might buckle at any moment. Her lips parted more widely, as unconsciously she invited more. And more.

  “This,” a cold voice called from too nearby, “is totally disgusting.”

  The kiss ended abruptly and Del backed up a step, as Vic did. To his credit, he looked almost as shaken as she felt.

  “Gross,” Noelle muttered. “Why on earth did you two kidnap me from a perfectly decent vacation to make me watch this disgusting display of lewd middle-aged behavior?”

  Del recovered quickly. “You’re our chaperon, kiddo.”

  “Don’t call me kiddo,” Noelle said coldly, her eyes pinned on Del. “We’re not going to bond or anything, so you might as well save your time and energy.”

  “No kiddo, huh?”

  “No kiddo.”

  “How about I call you ladybug, instead?”

  Noelle made a guttural noise that very clearly spoke of her distaste, before spinning around and heading for the kitchen.

  Del smiled down at Vic. “I think she’s beginning to like me.”

  Vic shook her head. “I’m sorry. She’s really not always so… awful.”

  And no matter how much a kiss made her think otherwise, she knew Del would not be around long enough to get to see Noelle’s better side.

  Going to bed early was preferable to watching the two lovebirds. How incredibly gross.

  Noelle kicked back on the bed, her eyes on the ceiling, her headphones and the music in her ears drowning out any sounds that might drift through her closed door.

  This was bad. Really bad. Yeah, her mom did date now and then, but never guys like Wilder. She spent more time with her friends than with guys, especially Wanda Freeman. Wanda had even fixed her best friend Vic up a few times, but that had always been a disaster. There were men from Grandpa’s company, dweebs like that stiff James Moss, or that guy who smiled all the time, Ryan what’s-his-name. She had never worried about those guys because they never kissed her mom like that, or went to a crappy shack in the woods on vacation or called her kiddo and Ladybug. She snorted. Wilder obviously thought if he played nice with the kid it would make a difference to the mother. Fat chance.

  If only her Dad knew about Wilder, he’d do something. He’d come in and run that thug off and realize that the three of them belonged together again. It had been such a long time. She barely remembered what it was like to have a father and a mother. Her dad steered clear of her because her mother was always there, and that was obviously uncomfortable for him. It wasn’t his fault that he rarely came around, or that when he did he didn’t stay long. It wasn’t his fault that he never smiled anymore, or that he was always so anxious to leave.

  Yeah, if he knew, he’d do something. Noelle smiled. Something drastic. How cool would that be?

  He wanted her. More than was right, much more than he should. Hell, he wasn’t eighteen anymore. He didn’t lose control of his emotions or his libido.

  But he wanted Vic so much it hurt.

  She stepped onto the porch to join him. The screen door squealed, the planks on the porch squeaked as she stepped across them. He felt each sharp sound as if it fluttered through his body. This was not good.

  “She’s asleep?’’ he asked.

  Vic nodded as she sat in the rocking chair beside him. “Out like a light,” she whispered, as if her voice might disturb the night. And what a night it was. The moon was full and the air had taken on a comfortable cool hint as it washed across the nearby lake and through the trees. The air smelled clean and fresh, the moonlight lit the rustic front porch and the woods before them. It lit Vic in a way that made her look even more beautiful than she usually did. That in itself was a miracle.

  He could not afford to get sloppy and sentimental over a woman. He tried to tell himself that what he felt was just a residual of what they’d had long ago, the faint echo of what an eighteen-year-old had thought was love. And still, he wanted her.

  “How long will you be here?” Vic asked, her voice soft and easy.

  “As long as it takes.”

  “That’s not—”

  “Necessary?” Del interrupted. “No, I guess it’s not. But what am I supposed to do?” Anger made his voice too caustic. “Leave you here?”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  “Not this time.”

  Vic rocked, silent for a long moment. “Surely no one will find us out here. I’m sure Noelle and I will be fine on our own.”

  Was she so eager to get rid of him? Apparently so. “Let’s get one thing straight, Vic. I’m not leaving here until we have the Mayrons in custody. If I do have to leave, Shock will be here. No one else. I don’t trust anyone but Shock.” With you. He couldn’t say that. He couldn’t reveal that much of himself, to her or to anyone else.

  Vic sighed, and he felt it. “If it was just me, I’d argue with you,” she said. “But I won’t take risks with Noelle. If there’s even a remote chance those people will find us here...” She turned her head and looked at him, square on for the first time since he’d kissed her. “I’ll do anything to keep Noelle safe,” she said. “Anything.”

  He’d use that, if he had to. If she tried to kick him out again he’d appeal to her motherly devotion and protective instincts. “Good. Then we agree that I’m staying.”

  Again Vic sighed, and then she nodded her head.

  That taken care of, his mind took a more personal bent. While he was making sure Vic was safe, he had to get her out of his head. He wasn’t sure exactly how to do that. Concentrate on her faults and convince himself he was much better off without her? Remember the past and how much it had hurt?

  Or sleep with her and get this obsession out of his system, once and for all?

  More than once she’d tried to push him away, but she kissed as if she was interested. Very interested.

  “Are you seeing anybody?” he asked.

  He felt her eyes on him but continued to stare out at the night. “No. Not at the moment.”

  Del nodded. Good.

  “You?” she asked.

  “Not at the moment.”

  He couldn’t tell if her soft hum was one of approval or not. Maybe. Maybe.

  “I always figured you’d be married by now. Have a few kids,” she said.

  So, she did :think about him. “Nope. No time, I guess.”

  “You really should. Noelle is the best part of my life.”

  Del turned his head and looked at Vic, studied her moonlit profile. He wisely contained his first response: You’ve got to be kidding. “I’ll bet you’re a great mother.”

  She smiled gently. “There was a time I thought maybe I was. The past couple of years I’ve had my doubts. I wonder if maybe Noelle wouldn’t be happier if I’d done something different.”

  “We all rebel at that age, at least a little.”

  “I guess,” she agreed in a low whisper. “Sometimes I wonder if I shouldn’t have forgiven Preston, for Noelle’s sake. Maybe I shouldn’t have—”

  “No,” he interrupted, his voice sharp. “You deserve better than that. Much better.”

  She laid her eyes on him and smiled, gentle and confident and every bit as stirred up as he was.

  He didn’t play games, not anymore. He didn’t dance around delicate issues because he was shy or discreet. He’d never had either of those attributes.

  “Vic, where am I sleeping tonight?”

  Even in the moonlight, it seemed her face went pale. “You can have the bed,” she said. “I’ll take the couch.”

  Not exactly the response he’d been hoping for. There were two bedrooms. Noelle was sleeping in one. The other had a queen-size bed and its own personal bathroom. And then there was the sofa in the main room. “I’ll take the couch,” he said.

  “It’s too short for you,” Vic protested.

  “It folds out i
nto a bed.”

  “Oh.”

  Yeah, he’d sleep on the couch tonight, and maybe even tomorrow night, but he had a feeling he wouldn’t be there long.

  Vic tossed in the bed, unable to get comfortable. Her nightgown twisted around her legs, frustrating her even more. The mattress was too soft, then too hard. The air in the confining room was too hot, then not hot at all. But deep down she knew it wasn’t the bed or the temperature that kept her awake. It was Del.

  Where am I sleeping tonight? Why had he asked her that question? It could have been taken more than one way, but there had been nothing innocent about the tone of his deep voice, nothing innocent about the look in his eye as he’d asked that loaded question.

  She’d been momentarily tempted to answer With me. But she hadn’t and she wouldn’t.

  For good reason. Del had lied to her, he’d almost gotten her killed, and he thought he could come riding in here on his white horse and take over. She didn’t need him to protect her. She didn’t need any man to protect her.

  More than all that, there was the issue of Noelle. If Del knew she was his daughter he’d never be out of their lives. He’d bring danger with him, the threat from criminals like the ones who’d kidnapped and almost killed her.

  And then there was the danger to her heart, and Noelle’s. Preston’s leaving had hurt Noelle and the poor girl was still suffering. She didn’t need another man coming into her life, becoming a part of it and then walking away. And that’s what Del would do, in the end. Walk away. Maybe she could survive the hurt to herself, but to put Noelle through that again? She couldn’t.

  Del could never know Noelle was his daughter. And Vic couldn’t get involved with him and continue to lie. It was too hard. So no matter what she wanted, no matter how tempted she was...

  Hot once again, she threw off her covers and sat up. She hadn’t been with or wanted a man in years. She was alone, and had been long before the divorce. Alone, but never lonely. She didn’t mind that there was no man in her life. All she needed was her painting and her daughter. Life was simple that way. Simple was good. But Del made her feel lonely, as if she was missing something important. Something beautiful.

  On bare feet, Vic slipped out of her room and down the hallway. Passing Noelle’s door, she heard her daughter’s deep, even breathing. As she neared the main room, she heard Del’s deeper, decidedly masculine breaths.

  Just a peek, that’s all she wanted.

  She stopped at the entrance to the main room and leaned against the wall. Del was sprawled across the sofa bed, which was indeed too small for him. He filled it, his feet hanging off the end, his out-flung arms and legs taking up the length and breadth of the mattress.

  And that hair... She had always loved his long hair. It was beautiful and it suited him. Wild. Unconventional. He was definitely not the kind of man her father had envisioned for her.

  He was definitely not the kind of man she needed in her life now. If she let him get too close, he would only complicate matters. But, oh, as she watched him sleep she wished again that when he’d asked Where am I sleeping tonight? she’d answered With me.

  With a shake of her head she turned and silently returned to her bed. Stupid, she chided silently as she walked away. If she knew one truth, it was that Del Wilder was not for her and never would be.

  Chapter 4

  Del heard the steps, too cautious in the hallway. Noelle, he saw as he cracked one eye and caught sight of a young girl’s legs topped in yet another pair of black shorts. Her toenails, he noticed, were painted a dark red. At least she had a color scheme going for herself.

  It wasn’t even seven in the morning yet, and here she was, creeping through the cabin as if she had all sorts of nefarious plans. He had no doubt that nefarious was Noelle’s middle name.

  The keys to Vic’s van were close, there on the coffee table he’d moved to the wall so the couch could be opened into an uncomfortable bed. He wondered if Noelle would be so bold, and pretended to sleep.

  She came close but didn’t go for the keys. Instead she snagged his cell phone from an end table on the other side of a fat chair and headed stealthily for the kitchen.

  When she was out of sight, Del left the sofa bed with just as much stealth and followed. He’d slept in a pair of flannel pajama bottoms, too warm for summer but all he had. He grabbed a T-shirt from the chair he’d tossed it over last night and pulled the garment on as he walked.

  Who was Noelle calling? A boyfriend? Her friend Michelle? He wasn’t worried about her giving anyone directions to the place, attempting what she was sure to see as rescue. She’d slept most of the way to the cabin, dozing through the many twists and turns he’d taken to get here.

  He was just about ready to jump out and give the girl a scare—no more than she deserved—when Noelle’s soft voice stopped him.

  “Dad?”

  Something in his heart clenched. This was no tough teenager with a bad attitude; it was just a little girl who sounded uncertain and a bit afraid. Del leaned against the wall, out of sight, and waited.

  “I… I know you’re getting ready to go to work,” she said quickly. “But—”

  Preston must’ve interrupted, because Noelle went breathlessly silent once again.

  “Mom has a boyfriend,” she said, her voice too fast. Was she afraid her father would interrupt again? “A real loser.”

  Del relaxed against the wall. Loser?

  “I can’t stay here. They practically kidnapped me and forced me to go on vacation.” She sighed. “Don’t laugh! It’s not funny. We’re, like, in the woods, and I think they expect me to go fishing or something.” She was silent for a short minute or two. “It’s gross.”

  Finally, she got to the point of her call. “Can’t I come live with you?”

  The tone of her voice was so tender, so fragile, Del had the feeling—no, he knew—that Noelle had asked this question before.

  “Just for the rest of summer vacation, maybe,” she said in a lower voice. “Or maybe for a couple of weeks.”

  She was breathing too hard now, as if struggling to stop the tears of rejection.

  “Okay,” she finally said. “Maybe I’ll see you then. ’Bye.”

  At the moment, Del really wanted to get his hands on Preston Lowell. What a jerk. What a complete and total jackass.

  He pushed away from the wall and stepped into the kitchen, stretching his arms over his head, closing his eyes as he yawned to give Noelle a chance to wipe away the tears on her face.

  “’Morning, kiddo,” he said as he dropped his arms.

  She opened her mouth to argue.

  “Noelle,” he corrected himself quickly. “Good morning, Noelle. Did you get up to make me breakfast?”

  To look at her, you wouldn’t know she’d been crying just a few seconds ago. Tears were gone, eyes were dry and flinty. The cell phone had been quickly and expertly slipped up the long, baggy sleeve of her black shirt. “No.”

  “Then maybe I’ll make you breakfast,” he said, heading for the refrigerator.

  “Don’t bother.” She looked angry, as if she wanted to take all her frustration out on him. But she didn’t leave.

  “You didn’t eat much last night,” he said. “You must be hungry.”

  Noelle’s short cherry-red hair stood on end, and her face… She tried so hard to be tough as nails, unforgiving and obstinate. But there was still a touch of the child in her mouth and her eyes.

  “What are you making?” she finally asked.

  Shock had equipped the place well, and last night Del had searched all the cabinets, taking stock of their supplies. “Pancakes?”

  “Okay.” Noelle slipped out of the room for a moment, while Del took the pancake mix and a bowl from the cabinet. When she returned and took a seat at the round table on the opposite side of the room, he could see that she no longer hid the cell phone up her sleeve. If she hadn’t already been jerked around once this morning, he’d let her know she’d been caught. Best to
let her think she’d gotten away with swiping the phone, for now. He imagined conversation of any kind would be unwelcome at the moment, so he whipped up the batter without saying a word. As he dropped the first dollop of pancake batter onto the preheated griddle, Noelle shifted in her chair.

  “You’re wasting your time, you know,” she said.

  “Making pancakes?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder.

  “Setting your sights on my mother,” she clarified with a sharp glance.

  “What makes you think I’ve set my sights on your mother?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Please. I saw you kiss her. You kidnapped me and dragged me to the middle of nowhere for a family vacation. What is it, Grandpa’s money? Hate to disappoint you, but he has it all. Mom pretty much told him to take a hike years ago. We don’t exactly share the wealth. If you want to get your hands on the Archard fortune, you’ll have to date Grandpa.”

  Del flipped pancakes. One kiss did not a sight-setting make, but it was a simpler explanation than the truth. Still, it had been a great kiss, and if he had his way... “Maybe I like her,” he said. “It doesn’t have to be more complicated than that.”

  “She has lots of boyfriends,” Noelle said sharply. “All of them better than you.”

  With his back to the girl, Del smiled widely. “Is that a fact? How could they possibly be better than me?”

  “They have jobs, they wear suits. They cut their hair.”

  “I have a job, I own a suit and what’s wrong with my hair?”

  He headed to the table with a plate full of small pancakes. Without being asked, Noelle jumped up and went to the refrigerator for syrup and juice. “Nothing,” she said as she returned to the table. “If you actually enjoy looking like a reject from the seventies.”

  Del gave her a big grin as he moved a stack of pancakes to his plate.

  Annoyed that her plan wasn’t working, Noelle lifted her chin and tried another tactic. “Besides, you don’t want to get involved with my mother. She’s psycho.”

 

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