Wilder Days. Linda Winstead JonesЧитать онлайн книгу.
on him. “I don’t doubt it at all.”
They’d been riding in silence for more than an hour, Del concentrating on the road, Vic staring out the passenger window. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. She couldn’t stand another five hours of this.
“We’re going to have to call a truce,” she said calmly.
“What kind of truce?”
Del was no happier with her than she was with him. She had no need to worry that he might complicate matters where Noelle was concerned. As soon as he could get rid of them both with a clear conscience, he would.
“We’re both going to have to compromise.”
“I’m already compromising,” he muttered. “I’m driving a freakin’ minivan.”
Vic smiled. “We couldn’t get everything in your Jaguar and have room for Noelle in that tiny excuse for a back seat.”
“I know.”
“I’m sure your car will be safe in my garage.”
He just mumbled.
“So,” she continued. “Truce?”
“Sure.”
Del glanced at her and she smiled as if it didn’t hurt. There had been days when she prayed to be able to forget him, but how could she? Noelle was so much like him that sometimes it frightened her. The similarities went beyond coloring and the shape of their mouths. Noelle had Del’s restless spirit, his pride and his ingrained defiance.
“So,” she said, trying for a light conversational tone. “How have you been?”
He laughed, and the sound was unexpectedly heart-warming. Del had never laughed much, but when he did the laughter came from his heart and soul. “Fine. And you?”
“Fine.” Memories she didn’t want came rushing back. “Did you ever learn to dance?”
“Yep.”
“Good,” she whispered.
“Did you ever learn to swim?”
“No.” She found she didn’t want to know how many women had been in Del’s life, so she didn’t even bother to ask if he’d ever been married. She suspected not. Del had never been one for settling down, and since the kidnappers who were after him had needed bait, it had been her they’d kidnapped. After all these years…
“I tried to teach you,” he said, shaking his head. “But you wouldn’t…” He stopped suddenly. Did he remember, too?
It had been too early in the year to swim, the water too cold, and she had held on to Del with everything she had while the water lapped around them, the lights of the pool they’d sneaked into making the night eerie and romantic. Romantic to a silly seventeen-year-old girl, anyway. God, she had loved holding on to him.
“Once we have Noelle with us, where are we going?” she asked, anxious to change the subject. Being in close quarters with Del was bad enough. Bringing back old memories that would do neither of them any good only made matters worse.
Del stared at her, but he didn’t answer for a few long minutes. Finally he said, “Don’t worry. I have everything taken care of.”
Not everything, she imagined. There were too many details Del didn’t know, too many things he couldn’t possibly be prepared for.
How could she prepare him for Noelle? Noelle, who was so much like him, who rebelled at every turn…who would not be happy to see them.
Much as he’d like to think otherwise, Del did not have everything under control.
Chapter 3
“Who the hell are you?”
Del was a little taken aback. This was Vic’s daughter? The teenage girl stood in the main room of a very nice condo on the beach, shooting daggers at him with her eyes. Vic’s pride and joy was dressed entirely in black, from her clunky tennis shoes to the baggy shorts to the oversize T-shirt. There were, at quick count, six earrings in one ear. Only one in the other. And her head…
“Noelle Eve Lowell,” Vic said, sounding horrified. “What have you done to your hair?”
The teenager took audacious eyes off of Del and laid them on her mother. “It rained yesterday. We didn’t have anything to do.” She touched a hand to her hair, which was a very unnatural shade of red and cut too short…on one side. On the other side, soft red strands brushed softly against one cheek.
“It rained,” Vic said, “and you just happened to have hair dye with you? And a pair of scissors, too, I see?”
“We brought them with us just in case.” Noelle shuffled one foot. “Michelle’s hair turned pink and I think I cut it too short on one side. Her mom is really not happy.” Her expression hardened. “Why are you here, Mother, and who is the thug?”
Thug?
“Please tell me you’re not going through a midlife crisis and actually sleeping with this guy.”
“Noelle!”
“And if you are, why did you feel the need to drive all the way down here to, what…introduce us? I really don’t need to be dragged into your midlife crisis, Mother.”
The three of them were alone in the classy, nicely furnished condo. The Severns, Noelle’s friend’s family, were down at the beach. Just as well.
“We’re taking a little vacation,” Del said calmly.
Noelle glared at him. “I’m already on vacation, moron. And I still don’t know who you are.”
He’d dealt with tough customers before, many of them tougher than Vic’s daughter. Maybe. “Del Wilder,” he said, stepping forward and offering his hand. “Your mother and I are old friends.”
Behind him, Vic continued to mutter about her daughter’s hair.
“Old friends. How nice.” Instead of extending her hand to shake Del’s, Noelle placed hands on hips and struck a defiant pose. “Why on earth do you want me along on your little vacation? I’m sure to cramp your style.”
Vic had decided that she didn’t want Noelle to know what had happened. Not yet, anyway. Del had to agree. It was sure to be traumatic for a fourteen-year-old to know that someone had just tried to blow up her mother.
“Family vacation,” Del grumbled.
“You’re not family.”
He ignored her. “Fishing, picnics, a cabin by the lake.” He hadn’t told Vic where they were going, but she’d know soon enough. The cabin he’d rented was close enough to Birmingham that he could make a run to the office, if he had to, far enough away from town that they wouldn’t have to worry about being spotted by anyone passing by. No one but Shock knew the location of the hideaway.
“I hate fishing.”
Del had a feeling he and Noelle could stand here all day and never agree on anything. If he told her the sky was blue, she’d come up with some kind of argument. He’d rather face the business end of a gun than deal with an obviously mixed-up fourteen-year-old.
Vic stepped forward, passing close to Del as she approached her daughter. “Pack your things and let’s go,” she said.
Noelle opened her mouth to argue, but Vic didn’t give her a chance.
“Now.”
Noelle sighed, but she turned around and disappeared into a bedroom to do as her mother asked.
Del crept up behind Vic and laid a hand on her shoulder. “She hates me.”
“She’ll get over it.”
He tried to think of something