Wilder Days

“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, so 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.”

“Psycho?”

Noelle piled her own plate high. “Yep.”

“Can you give me some examples?”

Noelle pursed her lips. “She freaks whenever I mention dating. I can only go out if it’s a special occasion, a double date, and even then I have to go with someone she knows and approves of.”

Del shook his head. “You’re right. Psycho.”

His sarcasm didn’t get past her. “I was born on Christmas Eve and she named me Noelle Eve. Noelle Lowell, can you believe that? Everyone makes it rhyme. But I guess I should consider myself lucky. What if I’d been born on Easter, or Valentine’s Day, or…Thanksgiving?”

“Little Turkey Lowell.”

She stuck her tongue out at him.

“Noelle is a very pretty name,” Del said. “Now, eat your pancakes.”

She did, digging in and dismissing their conversation.

His breakfast finished, Del walked into the living room and collected his cigarettes from the end table. When he returned to the kitchen, Noelle had finished eating and sat there with her eyes on the window and the view beyond. She was, no doubt, thinking about her father and his refusal of her request. Poor kid.

When she saw the cigarettes in his hand, her eyes lit up. “Can I have one?” she asked.

“No.”

Again, she stuck her tongue out at him. “Selfish.”

“I just don’t want your mother to, you know, kill me.” He lit up, and Noelle rolled her eyes. “Besides,” he added, “these things are not good for you.”

“And they’re good for you?”

“Think of me as a bad example.”

Noelle pushed her chair back and gave him a glare that said she wished she could do murder, here and now. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I already do.”

Vic dabbed at the canvas on the easel before her. The light here on the front porch was great, the scene before her was magnificent, but she couldn’t make herself concentrate on painting. Usually painting saved her, took her mind off of anything and everything. Not today. Del Wilder was stronger—pulled more effectively at her heart—than this vocation she’d lost herself in for most of the past fifteen years.

Even if the screen door hadn’t squeaked, she would have known that Del was behind her. He charged the air with his very presence, he set every nerve in her body on alert.

“The kid’s taking a nap,” he said, his voice low. “She didn’t like my suggestion that we take a hike this afternoon, and when I mentioned fishing instead, she told me to…” He took a deep breath. “Well, I think it’s impossible, and even if it was possible it would definitely be unpleasant.”

Vic set down her brush and turned to face Del. “I’m sorry. She knows better….”

“Don’t sweat it.” He flashed her a wide smile. “She’s a good kid. Not at all like you were at that age, all sugar and very little spice, but still a good kid. Likes to stir up trouble, doesn’t she?”

Vic found herself returning Del’s smile. “Oh, yeah.”

It would be so simple, right now, to say, “She’s so much like you.” But she didn’t. Her mind was made up. Del was here, for a little while, but he wasn’t staying. And he wouldn’t have the opportunity to break Noelle’s heart. Vic still wasn’t sure about her own.

He walked closer, took her hand and stared down at the bandages on her fingers. “How are they?”

“Fine.”

His head cocked up, his eyes met hers. “Really?”

Vic could only nod as Del lifted her hand and kissed the palm. Quickly. Sweetly. And that simple contact sent shivers through her body.

“I understand you’re dating,” he said as he dropped her hand.

The surprise must’ve shown on her face because Del’s smile grew wider. “Lots of guys,” he continued. “Who wear suits and cut their hair and have jobs.”

“Noelle.”

The twinkle in Del’s eyes was the answer. “So, if I asked you to take a nice long walk in the woods, would I be stepping on some man’s toes?”

“I’m not dating,” Vic said, ignoring his offer of a walk in the woods. “I mean, I have, but…not lately.”

“Why not?” She tried to return to her easel, but Del’s hand on her shoulder stopped her. “Still in love with Presto?”

“No!” she said, too sharply. “God, no.”

“You’re a beautiful woman, smart, sexy. I can’t imagine why there aren’t guys crawling all over you.”

Vic shuddered, just a little.

“Vic?” Del’s voice was low, comforting.

She steeled herself and turned, tipping her face up to look him squarely in the eye. “Okay, you tell me why you never got married and I’ll tell you why I don’t date.”

She meant to scare him away, but her ploy didn’t work. His hand came up to touch her cheek, his eyes went dark. “Why didn’t I get married? There are a few answers to that one.” His fingers traced her jaw. “The job, for one. The job is consuming, at times, and it’s never easy. Takes a special woman to handle what comes with it.”

“Other law enforcement officers, even those who work undercover, they get married.”

“Yeah, but it’s hard to make it work.”

“So that’s why—”

“That’s one reason,” he interrupted.

Vic nodded. She should stop this, here and now. The last thing she needed was to be Del’s confidante, to know and cherish his secrets. She said nothing to silence him.

“Kids,” he said, smiling gently. “You get married, the next thing you know there are babies everywhere you look.”

“You don’t like them?”

“I like them fine, as long as they’re someone else’s,” he teased. “I figure if I ever have kids they’ll be just like me. Payback is hell.”

It was the perfect time to tell him…maybe not.

“I suppose the truth is, the right woman just never came along.” His smile faded. “I never met anybody who made me feel…”

She waited for him to finish. The way you did. The way you do. Like this.

But a moment later the lilt was back in his voice, and he finished. “Like shackling myself.”

“Not looking for an old ball and chain,” she teased, grateful he hadn’t gotten more personal. This was tough enough.

Del shook his head. “No, thank you, ma’am. Your turn.”

Vic took a deep breath. “I did date a few times, after the divorce. Years after the divorce, to be honest. Marriage to Preston was less than wonderful. Why would I ever want another man in my life?”

Del’s blue eyes darkened. “Did he hurt you? I swear, if he did I’ll take him apart.”

“He never hurt me, physically. He just…broke promises. Lied. Made me feel like I was always, always wrong, no matter what I did.”

One of Del’s fingers brushed through her hair, a small gesture of comfort. She liked it. “He’s just one man, Vic. We’re not all like that.”

She shook her head, not looking to argue, just wanting to get this over with. “I know that, but still… When I did date, I was always looking for the lie. What does this man really want? Why is he really here? I never dated any one guy more than three times.”

“You drove them away before they could hurt you.”

She ignored that dead-on conclusion. “My father still tries to play matchmaker now and then. That’s the worst, I think. It makes me feel like a little girl trying to live up to Daddy’s expectations. The other attempts at dating weren’t much better. Some of the men I never saw again, a couple actually became friends. But…” She stumbled, and her voice wouldn’t come out right. This was not a discussion she could have with Del, of all people. She didn’t want to be hurt again, and he had hurt her more than anyone else ever had or could. And he didn’t have a clue.

“Vic,” Del whispered, his lips moving toward hers. “Do you want to know why I’m here?”

She swallowed hard. “Because those kidnappers…”

He shook his head. “I could put an army of men on you and Noelle to keep you safe. I could hire a dozen bodyguards while I go out there and find Tripp and Holly myself. It’s what I do,” he added gently. “I like action, not baby-sitting.”

“You can go…”

“I can’t,” he interrupted. “I can’t go. Do you want to know why?”

Yes. More than anything. Tell me. “No.” After all, it was safer that way, and Vic Lowell was nothing if not safe.

Her response did not deter him. He kissed her. He stirred her up, with a gentle kiss and a tender hand at her back and a silent invitation she ignored.

Somehow she ended up with her back against the wall of the rough cabin, her legs slightly spread, Del resting between them as he kissed her. And she kissed him back.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. They weren’t kids anymore. Hormones could be controlled. Desire could be tamed. Squashed down. Dismissed as what it really was—physical attraction.

So why couldn’t she dismiss this?

Del backed away. A trickle of sweat ran down his face, down his neck. She felt a drop of perspiration tickle her spine.

“You always did drive me crazy,” he said, giving her a crooked smile before turning his back on her and walking away.

Del lay on the torturous sofa bed, wide-awake even though it was almost two in the morning. He had to get out of here, the sooner the better. Like he’d told Vic this afternoon, anyone could keep an eye on her and Noelle until Tripp and Holly were caught. Anybody. Well, he wouldn’t trust them to just anyone, but there were a large number of qualified bodyguards out there, available at a snap of the fingers.

So why was he still here?

After the kiss, things had turned awkward. Even after all this time, he knew Vic too well. She wanted him, but she didn’t like the fact, and she was doing her best to deny it. In a way he knew how she felt. He hadn’t been this confused in sixteen years, since Vic had stood there on the front porch of her big house and told him it was over. He hadn’t seen it coming, and the blow had blindsided him. Nothing blindsided him anymore. His life was black and white, good guys and bad guys, right and wrong.

Physically, he wanted Vic. Emotionally, he was still drawn to her in a way he could not explain. Nothing good could come of a relationship that went beyond bodyguard and woman in trouble. If they slept together, this was bound to end ugly.

And still he wanted her.

The reason for his confusion walked into the room, dressed in blue and moving without making a sound, like a tantalizing vision out of a dream.

“You can’t sleep, either?” Vic asked as she came near the bed.

Didn’t she know better? She knew he wanted her. Needed her. She had to know that the reason he was here when he could be hunting Tripp and Holly…was because he didn’t trust anyone else in the world to watch over her.

“No,” he said simply. “Can’t sleep.”

She started to sit down in the chair at the opposite wall, but with the crook of a single finger, Del invited her to sit on the side of his bed. After a moment’s hesitation, she headed over his way, blue robe dancing as she walked, curling hair wild and inviting. He wanted to bury his hands in her hair, and that would just be the beginning.

Vic hesitated a moment, standing beside him, and then she sat. The thin, crooked mattress gave under her weight, and Del let himself roll toward her.

“What you said about getting someone else to watch us,” she whispered, her eyes on a moonlit window and the darkness beyond. “I think maybe that would be a good idea.”

“Why?”

“You don’t want to be here, Del,” she argued. “You’d rather be…”

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