Wilder Days. Linda Winstead Jones
“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.”