WILDER DAYS

by Linda Winstead Jones

  “Well, get over it,” she muttered. “You’re not a part of my life, and you’re not going to be. You’re… sperm. That’s all,” she added. “You’re a long-lost sperm donor.”

  He was speeding, and he knew it. Didn’t care. Sperm donor? Wild monkey sex? Boyfriend?

  “This Chris,” Del said, trying to sound nonchalant. “What’s he like?”

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Noelle look at him. “What do you care?”

  “Just curious.”

  “He’s cute,” she said with a shrug. “And funny. He makes me laugh.”

  Del wanted to kill him already. Cute and funny. “How long have you two… I mean, how long has Chris been your boyfriend?”

  “Three months.”

  Too long. Way too long. “What do you two do when you go out?” He tried to sound cool. He was not.

  “We have orgies at his house,” Noelle said sharply. “Followed by drinking and drugs and then more orgies.”

  Del swerved to the side of the road and brought the Jag to an abrupt stop. He turned to face his daughter, to see her too-hard face illuminated by the dashboard lights.

  “Just kidding,” she said, her face softening. “Jeez, can’t you take a joke? What do you care what I do for fun, anyway?”

  “Answer my question,” he said in the voice no one dared to ignore.

  “I don’t have to tell you anything,” she insisted. “My life is none of your business. If I want to—”

  “Your life is my business,” he seethed. “I don’t care if you like it or not.” He tried to calm himself down. “I know you had a bad day.”

  “That’s the understatement of the year,” she muttered.

  “And if giving me a hard time helps you deal with that, then I can live with it. Maybe.” He wanted to reach across and touch her shoulder, maybe her cheek, but he didn’t dare. “Just don’t tell me your life is none of my business.” He took a deep breath. “Chris?”

  “We go to the movies with friends,” she said, cocking her head to one side. “Sometimes we go out for pizza. We rent movies and watch them with his little brother. Happy?”

  “A little happier than I was a few minutes ago,” he confessed. Now was not the time to back down, and he wanted, no, he needed to know. “Noelle, are you… I mean, I know you were yanking my chain about the orgies, but… I know kids these days think they can do anything they want, that they’re all grown up.” He almost choked. Had he really just used the phrase kids these days? He took a deep breath and continued. “You’re only fifteen, Noelle, and these days it’s downright dangerous...” His heart jumped. This was no fun at all. “Fifteen is very young, even though it might not seem that way to you...”

  Noelle held up a hand and presented her palm to him. “Okay, are you actually trying to ask me if I’m a virgin?”

  His stomach dropped. “Yes.”

  “Like it’s any of your business.”

  “Noelle...”

  “I’ve known you’re my sperm donor for a couple of hours, and you think you can come in here and ask me personal questions that are none of your business and then expect me to answer them?”

  “You don’t have to call me daddy, you don’t have to like me.” Though the knowledge that she didn’t made his heart hurt a little. “But dammit, I expect you to take care of yourself. You’re too good to fall for a line from some charming fifteen-year-old Romeo...”

  “Chris is seventeen,” she interrupted.

  “He’s dead,” Del muttered.

  “Can we just go?” Noelle said with a wave of her hand. “I don’t want to be stuck in this car with you any longer than I have to.”

  Del took a deep breath and pulled back onto the road. This parent business was going to be harder than he’d expected.

  He’d considered bringing his mother with them, but she and the sheriff had insisted that she stay behind. Del figured he’d left her in good hands. Holly had been whisked off to the hospital and Shock was rounding up a picture of Preston Lowell for Holly to identify, when she came to. No telling how long that would be, and if she died… He didn’t want to think about that.

  Right now he wanted to shelter Vic and Noelle, hold them close, protect them. Dammit, from everything he’d seen, neither of them wanted his protection.

  He’d never been so confused, not when it came to knowing what was right. His world was black-and-white, good and bad. He wanted to do what was right, where Vic and Noelle were concerned, but he didn’t know how.

  They had been driving for fifteen long, silent, uncomfortable minutes when Noelle spoke again.

  “Yes, you geek,” she said softly. “My mother’s lectures have not been totally wasted. I’m still a virgin. I figure I should wait until I’m sixteen.”

  Del gripped the wheel. Was Noelle serious, or was she trying to get a rise out of him again? Neither, he decided. She was trying to give him a heart attack. She’d almost succeeded. “We’ll talk about it on your birthday,” he growled. “No, we’ll talk about it a day or two before your birthday.”

  “Like you’ll be here that long,” she scoffed.

  He took his eyes off the road long enough to glare at her. “I’ll be here.”

  It was getting close to midnight, and they were finally nearing Huntsville. Noelle had wanted to sleep on the trip up the interstate, but she hadn’t been able to. Her mind was spinning, and she could still remember what it had been like when that crazy woman came through the back door and grabbed her. She’d been so scared; she hadn’t liked it.

  Wilder drove silently, no more eager to resume their conversation than she was. Geek. Narc. Thug. She glanced his way. He didn’t look so much like a thug with his hair short. Had he really cut it because she said he looked like a reject? No way. He couldn’t possibly care what she thought.

  But he had asked if she was a virgin, and he’d been really pissed when she let him think she wasn’t. Not that Chris hadn’t tried, but she was no dummy. If he loved her like he said he did, he’d wait. If he didn’t love her, better to find out now rather than later.

  Her dad… Preston Lowell, who was not her dad… had never asked about Chris, or what she did when she went out or if she was a virgin. Not because the subject was too uncomfortable for him, but because he didn’t care. He didn’t care and he never had, and now she knew why. In a way she was relieved. She’d seen the way other fathers treated their daughters, and it was more like the way Wilder treated her in the past couple of hours than her… than Preston ever had.

  “Do you love my mother?” she blurted out. Obviously she took him by surprise. The car swerved, just a little.

  “What?”

  Noelle scoffed. That was answer enough. “I’ll take that as a no.” Which meant that no matter what he said, Wilder wouldn’t be here when her birthday rolled around. He probably wouldn’t be here a month from now.

  He drove silently for a couple of minutes, the Jag steady once again. “I don’t know,” he said. “I want to be honest with you, I don’t want to toss words around like they don’t mean anything.”

  “Save the explanations, Wilder. It was a very simple yes-or-no question.”

  “Not so simple,” he muttered.

  “Forget it.”

  He didn’t. “Sixteen years ago, I loved your mother so much it hurt,” he said softly. “She was in my head all the time. Every time I saw her, I was amazed by the power she had over me.”

  Noelle snorted. “That’s lust, narc. Even I know that.”

  “No,” he said sharply. “It was much more than that.”

  “Then why didn’t it last?”

  “I think it did.”

  She was more confused than ever. “So do you love her or not?”

  He took another of those long, deep breaths. “I think I should save this part of the conversation for her.”

  “Coward,” she breathed.

  “Noelle,” he said, turning onto the road that would take them to her grandpa’s house. “I love you
.”

  Her heart jumped in her chest, and there were butterflies she refused to acknowledge in her stomach. “Yeah, right,” she muttered.

  “It’s true.”

  Noelle turned her face away to look at the houses they passed, so Wilder wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes. Now who was the geek?

  Hell, she liked Wilder. She wasn’t ready to admit to anything more than that, but there was something about him. Something she identified with. She wasn’t a geek, like he was, but still, sometimes she felt like he understood her in a way no one else ever would. That he really did, deep down, care about her. For now. Preston Lowell had never told her he loved her, not once, not even when she’d tried so hard to make him feel something. Anything.

  She was terrified that if she let herself love Wilder, he’d leave. That if she came to depend on him, one morning she’d get up and he’d be gone. For good. There was no way she could tell him that maybe, just maybe, she could love him, too. Still, she didn’t want to let the moment pass without saying something.

  “The way you told Grandpa you’d kick his ass if he didn’t put Mom on the phone,” she said as Wilder pulled the Jag to a halt at the curb, behind another car where two men sat. “That was cool.”

  Tears sufficiently dried, she looked at Wilder. He smiled widely. “Thanks, kiddo.”

  Her own smile faded. “Just because you’re my father, that doesn’t mean you can call me kiddo. I’m too old for that.”

  “Okay, I like ladybug better, anyway.”

  “That’s even worse!”

  He didn’t look at all disturbed by her outburst. “First time I saw you, it was in that picture where you’re dressed as a ladybug. I kinda liked it, that’s all.”

  “I would be absolutely mortified if you called me kiddo or ladybug in front of anyone else. And I do mean anyone! Same goes for sweetie, sugar and every other cute little nickname you can think of.” When they were alone, though, maybe she wouldn’t mind so much.

  Wilder reached out and took her face in his big, gentle hands, leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. “Sorry,” he said softly. “I’ll try to remember, I promise. This is just all so new to me.”

  It’s new to me, too, Noelle thought as Wilder backed away.

  Vic opened the door before Del and Noelle reached it, and rushed out onto the porch to greet her daughter with a big hug. She held on too tight and expected Noelle to protest at any moment. She didn’t. Noelle’s own arms snaked around and held on, in an uncharacteristic display of emotion.

  And then Del was there, arms around them both as he guided them inside and closed the door.

  “I was so worried,” Vic admitted as she backed away from Noelle and stroked her cheek with one hand.

  “It’s okay,” Noelle said softly. “Wilder is pretty handy to have around, I guess. I’m glad he showed up when he did.”

  Del looked as surprised as Vic felt. Noelle had been so angry when they’d spoken on the phone, and rightfully so, that she’d expected this homecoming to be difficult. Noelle was subdued. Was she just tired? Had the day’s events drained her?

  “Let’s go,” Del said sharply.

  “Not so fast.”

  Then all three turned to watch Will Archard walk into the foyer, still dressed in his suit as if he expected to be called to work after midnight, his white hair perfectly styled, his face a picture of miserliness. The man might have a fortune in the bank, but he couldn’t afford a smile, a kind gesture.

  “I don’t know what you’ve dragged my daughter and granddaughter into, but I think they should stay here, for the time being.”

  Del’s jaw tightened. With a full-blown five o’clock shadow and eyes as hard as a deep blue stone, he looked not at all agreeable. “No,” he said simply.

  “I believe they’ll be safer here than they could ever be with you,” Archard said, the words a blatant insult.

  “Do you really?” Del asked, as if he knew something they didn’t. He’d warned her about Preston, told her he thought her ex might be behind everything that had happened. She couldn’t imagine how, but if Del believed it to be true, it probably was.

  They could have a battle right here in the foyer, and neither man would give an inch. Vic stepped between them. “I appreciate the offer, Dad, but Noelle and I are going home.”

  “It’s a mistake,” he said. “He’s never been good enough for you. And now he’s going to drag you into his squalid life and put you and Noelle in danger.”

  “Maybe that’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Vic said softly. She turned, just as her father reached out, not for her but for Noelle. He grabbed Noelle’s arm and held on tight.

  “Good Lord,” he said, as he finally noticed the change in his granddaughter. “Your hair! How could you do such a stupid thing!”

  Del stepped forward. “Let go of my daughter,” he said, his voice low and commanding.

  Archard did as he was told.

  “And if you ever call her stupid again,” Del added as Noelle stepped away from her grandfather and to Del’s side, “I’ll...”

  The threat hung in the air, unfinished but more than clear enough.

  “You’ll kick his ass, right?” Noelle whispered as she took a single, telling step closer to Del, obviously searching for the protection no other man had ever offered her.

  Del smiled. “Something like that.” He draped one arm around Noelle and the other around Vic. “Let’s go home.”

  Chapter 14

  Del stood in the doorway and watched a sleeping Noelle. He’d never been so scared in his life as he had been when he’d watched Holly aim a gun at her head. How did you protect a child from the Hollys of the world? The Archards? The Chrises?

  He’d added to the guard on the house. There were now six men posted instead of four, and it would remain that way until Preston Lowell was arrested. If he could’ve arranged it, he’d have put an army out there.

  When Vic came up behind him and placed a gentle arm around his waist, he wasn’t surprised. Without taking his eyes from Noelle, he draped an arm over Vic’s shoulder.

  “She’s going to be fine,” Vic whispered.

  Again, she was protecting him. Comforting him. Being there for him in a way no one else ever had. “I know. Any other kid would have fallen apart, after going through what Noelle’s been through today, but not her. She’s strong.”

  “Like you,” Vic whispered.

  He glanced down at her. She had her own strength, she just refused to see it.

  Noelle seemed to think that he would hang around until he got tired of sleeping with Vic, and then he’d move on. At the moment, he couldn’t imagine moving on, ever. Did he love her? Maybe. Then again, maybe this was just lust, adrenaline and memory.

  Hell, he didn’t know what love was anymore. At eighteen it had been easy. Eighteen-year-olds didn’t know anything beyond the moment, and the moment had been fine. Very fine. At thirty-four everything was more complicated.

  “Come on,” Vic whispered, reaching out to take the doorknob in her hand and very gently close Noelle’s door. “You need to get to sleep yourself.”

  He didn’t know if he could sleep. Until Preston was arrested, until he knew his daughter and Vic were safe, how was he supposed to sleep, ever again?

  He half expected her to hand him a pillow and blanket and direct him to the couch. After all, Noelle was here and Vic had always been very conscious of appearances. But instead of sending him downstairs, she took his hand and led him to her bedroom, where she closed the door and locked it.

  When she turned around, he was there. Waiting. He took her face in his hands, tilted her face up to his and kissed her, soft and sweet, then soft and not-so-sweet. He rocked his thumb against her cheeks, then moved his hands down to her neck, where his thumb rocked again, against her pulse this time.

  While they kissed, Vic unbuttoned his shirt and laid her hand against his chest, over his heart, over the tattoo that bore her name. Her palm rested there for a moment, w
hile their tongues danced, and then skimmed down his ribs to rest at his side.

  He held her close, lifted her off her feet and swung her around so he could carry her to the bed. She wrapped her legs around him, holding on, teasing him with her body pressed so close to his erection. He should be exhausted, and he was. He was. But right now, all he could think about was getting inside Vic. Then he would sleep. Maybe.

  Did he love her? He loved the way she felt in his arms, the way she smiled at him sometimes, the way she protected their daughter. At moments like this, it would be easy to say he loved her. He wanted her, he needed her, and if that seemed like love… maybe it was.

  Vic helped Del undress her, shedding everything there by the bed and tossing the clothes aside, before going through the same process with him. She wanted to see him naked, she wanted to touch every inch of him and make sure no one had hurt him tonight. His shirt came off, and she ran her hands along his ribs, around his waist, up his back. He was hard and warm, tough as nails and still gentle as the velvet night.

  She unfastened his jeans, lowered the zipper and slipped her hands beneath the waistband. She couldn’t touch him enough. He was real, and warm, and here, and she didn’t want to let him go.

  When his clothes had joined hers on the floor he lowered her to the bed, hovering above and all around her, cradling her in his arms.

  “I was so afraid you wouldn’t come back,” she whispered. Again.

  Del kissed her, his wicked lips lingering over hers. “I’m here.”

  It was easy to think about being brave, to imagine opening her heart without reserve, without fear. Reality was much harder. After he’d left she’d wished she’d told him how she felt. At the moment, the words stuck in her throat. “I’m glad you’re here,” she said. That was true enough. It was also the easy way out.

  “Me, too.” Del didn’t rush, but took his time touching and tasting her. His lips lingered on her throat and her breasts, his hands caressed her gently, as if he were afraid she might break. For a few moments she lay there and savored his touch and his heat, and then she laid her hands on Del and once again let those hands explore, looking for wounds she knew he didn’t have, her fingers dipping and fluttering, tracing ridges and valleys. They lay on their sides, facing each other, kissing and cuddling, arousing and tasting.