Wild Child

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Wild Child Page 4

by Bella Jewel


  Oh God.

  “Did you kill that poor coyote?”

  He blinks.

  “Come again?”

  “You didn’t ... you didn’t shoot it, did you?”

  Another blink. “Those things can do a lot of damage. They’re wild. They’re a pest. And you’re worried that I killed it?”

  “It’s an animal,” I squeak, clenching my eyes together. “I hate killing animals.”

  He mumbles something about strange fucking woman under his breath and then glances down at my knees. “You’re bleeding. Got a first-aid kit around here?”

  “You didn’t answer my question. Oh, God, you killed the poor thing, didn’t you?”

  His eyes dart back to me and he shakes his head. “I can’t believe I’m listening to this crap. The thing could have hurt you, badly.”

  “Just break it to me,” I say, clenching my eyes shut again and taking a few deep breaths.

  “You threw yourself off a patio to save yourself from it ...” he mutters.

  “Break. It. To. Me.”

  “Fuck me,” he mumbles. “No, I didn’t kill the damned thing. I let a shot off to scare it. It ran away. The end.”

  “Oh, thank God, thank God. He can go back to his family now.”

  Slade stares at me, a horrified look on his face. “You’re wacked, lady.”

  My eyebrows dart up. “Pardon me?”

  “Didn’t stutter. You’re wacked. That thing could have done serious damage.”

  I blink, and purse my lips. “So. It’s just ... it’s just doing what it knows best.”

  He makes a frustrated sound and shakes his head. “First-aid kit.”

  “Under the sink in the kitchen.”

  He stands and strides off in big, long steps. Moody. I glance down at the mess I made of my knees and the filth all over my clothes. Great, just great. Like today wasn’t bad enough, now I’ve ruined my new work uniform, got grazed knees which will not look attractive in a skirt, and nearly got mauled by a coyote.

  Wine.

  “Wine,” I murmur when Slade returns. “Did it smash?”

  He stares at me, those brown eyes penetrating mine, making me squirm. “What?” I mumble, looking down at my hands. “Trust me, after the day I’ve had, I require it.”

  “Wacked,” he murmurs, walking outside and coming back a moment later with my Chinese food and my wine. Both saved.

  Thank the lord.

  He thrusts them at me and then reaches down, curling a hand around my ankle and lifting my foot into his lap. He’s sitting on the coffee table in front of the sofa. It takes me off guard, and for a moment, I just stare, mouth agape. He’s got my foot. In his lap. My foot. His lap. I swallow and avoid eye contact as I try not to make a big deal of it and reach for my wine, opening it and taking a sip right out of the bottle.

  Slade pretends not to notice, but his comment tells me he did. “Always drink like you were born a man and not a woman?”

  I am not taking his crap. Not today. Not ever. If I want to drink out of the damned bottle, I will. And I won’t be ashamed of it. “Listen, buddy, I’ve had a crappy day. A really crappy day. And I do not have to explain myself to anyone, especially not you.”

  He uses a wipe and cleans my knee. I drink through the sting.

  “What kind of day could make you want to drink from the bottle?”

  He doesn’t look up when he asks the question, he just keeps cleaning my knee.

  “My boss is a dick.”

  He looks up now and raises his brows. God. He’s scary. Good looking and scary. I’d lick his face.

  Shit.

  The wine has hit home already.

  “Welcome to life, princess. That’s not abnormal.”

  My mouth drops open and my hackles rise. “Excuse me, mister,” I snap. “I’m not weak, or pathetic, or sulking because my boss gave me a job I didn’t like. I’ve had jobs before. I’m not stupid. This man, he’s being an arrogant pig. Beyond normal. And he’s only doing it to me.”

  “Probably wants to fuck you.”

  My mouth closes. Then opens. Then closes again. “I-I-I ... He does not! Stop being so ... so ... vulgar!”

  He looks up at me for a second and then lowers his head again and keeps cleaning my knee. I try not to notice how nice my heel feels in his lap. Stop. Stop. Gah.

  “I’m not bein’ vulgar, I’m telling you a fact. Men that want to fuck women are either nice about it or they’re mega assholes.”

  “He hadn’t even met me! He was a mega asshole the second I made eye contact with him!” I protest.

  He shrugs. “He wants to fuck you.”

  “Oh, my God. You’re impossible! Honestly! I don’t know why I bother.”

  He keeps cleaning my knee. “A thank you for saving me from the poor innocent fuckin’ coyote would probably be a nice way to get over your mood.”

  I gape at him. “You have some nerve.”

  “You’re welcome, Rachel.”

  “How do you know my name?”

  “Ryder told me.”

  I cross my arms. “Right, I’ll add stalker to the list.”

  “I need to know who my neighbors are,” he says, moving his fingers over my skin as he turns my leg from side to side so he can study it. “Found out tonight, I have an acrobat on my hands.”

  I bite my lip to hold back from the sarcastic remark. “What would you have me do? It was on my porch. I had nowhere else to go.”

  “Back up slowly. Now throw yourself off the edge.”

  “It could have killed me,” I whisper-hiss.

  He gives me an expression that makes me slam my mouth closed.

  “I’ll add drama queen to the list.”

  “Jerk,” I mutter.

  He falls silent, finishing up my knee while I finish up more wine. My stomach grumbles in the silence, and Hercules stands, looking down at me. He reaches over, snatching the bottle from my hand, then he lifts the Chinese bag and thrusts it at me. “No more of this. Eat that.”

  And then, just like that, he strolls out my front door, still holding my bottle of wine.

  Well then.

  I’m going to pretend today never happened.

  ~*~*~*~

  “So, you leapt off the porch?” Lara giggles as I get in my car after work the next day.

  “Yes, I leapt off the porch. I freaked out, I didn’t know what to do.”

  “You’ve been in the city too long, Rach.”

  I roll my eyes even though she can’t hear it. “Well, that’s probably true, but still, I was afraid. I just reacted.”

  “Well, good reaction.”

  “Hardy-har-har. How are you, anyway?”

  “Good, been keeping myself busy with work. Noah and I are still trying for another baby, nothing so far.”

  My heart breaks for her. They’ve endured enough, the least that could go right for them is to be able to have the big family they both want. “Aw, Lara, it’ll happen. I know it will.”

  She sighs. “Yeah, I just don’t want it to become a chore, you know? I don’t want him to feel like that becomes all we sleep together for.”

  “I don’t think he’ll feel like that. You two aren’t that worried about it yet, are you?”

  She sighs, but then lightens her tone. “No, not at all. If we only ever have the one, we’ll both be happy.”

  I smile. “Well, she is totally worth it anyway.”

  “Absolutely. Listen, I have to go. I’ll call you later. Love you.”

  “Love you too.”

  I hang up the phone and drive home. When I arrive, it’s daylight. I finished early today, being a Friday. Thank God. After another run-in with Terrence, I more than needed the early finish and the weekend to get myself together. Slade is wrong—the man is just a pig and for whatever reason, he has it in for me. Today, he abused me in front of everyone because I put the wrong shade of white paper in the printer.

  The hell?

  White is white.

  Turns out it
isn’t; he likes the dull white with the slight yellowish tinge because it’s recycled. Not the bright white ‘fake’ paper that he doesn’t like having to use.

  Whatever.

  I get out of my car and am already thinking about taking a bottle of wine over to Steph’s house when I hear a little voice to my left. I glance over to see Ryder standing by my cabin, smiling at me. Gosh. He’s cute. Not like his father.

  “Hey, buddy.” I smile. “I didn’t see you there.”

  “Do you want to come see the fort I built?”

  The hope in his eyes makes my heart melt. I couldn’t say no to him. Not ever. “Of course! Let me put my purse down.”

  I walk over to the porch and place my purse down, and then I kick off my heels and shrug off my jacket and put my hands out. “Ready. Where are we going?”

  He smiles huge and reaches over, taking my hand and leading me toward the trees. We go down a small, well-worn path, and I wonder if he did this himself. Over a few fallen trees and around a few rocks, we arrive at a little fort made of things that have only come out of the forest. Bark woven together, sticks tied, tree logs, rocks.

  And together, it makes a little cave-slash-fort.

  It’s gorgeous. And clever.

  “You did this all on your own?” I ask, impressed.

  “Yeah,” he says, tugging my hand. “I love building things. Come inside.”

  He crawls in first, so I drop down to my knees, hiking my skirt up so it doesn’t restrict me, and crawl into the small fort. It’s dark, but he’s got an old blanket laid out, a small lamp, and a book. It’s cute. Gosh, I’d come and read in here, just to be alone. Why did I never think of building my very own fort?

  “This is super cool, buddy. I can’t believe you made this on your own.”

  “Slade helped me.”

  I still find it interesting he calls his father Slade. Maybe, when I get to know Slade better, I’ll ask him why that is.

  “Well, you did a great job. Aren’t you worried some animal might try and come make a home out of it?”

  He grins at me, flicking on his little lamp. “That’s kind of what I’m hoping. It would be really cool to see an animal in here.”

  “You think?” I smile.

  “Yes, only if it’s a mother animal, maybe she can keep her babies safe in here.”

  God. This kid. Gorgeous.

  A throat clears from outside, and it takes me a moment to realize I’m on my hands and knees, skirt hitched up, ass in the air, halfway in Ryder’s fort. I scurry backward quickly, shimmying my skirt back down, and look up at to see Slade staring down at me, brows raised. Oh, God. He just saw my ass. My panties. All of it.

  My cheeks burn.

  “Ah, Ryder was just showing me his fort.”

  “Can see that,” Slade murmurs.

  Oh. My. Lord.

  I push to my feet and Ryder climbs out, smiling up at Slade. “Did you bring it?”

  “Got it, little buddy.”

  Slade hands him a little carving knife. Ryder squeals happily and rushes off to find a log to carve. I glance over at Slade and adjust my skirt again, just to be sure. “Well,” I say, stepping past him, “nice to see you, Slade.”

  “How’s your knees?”

  I stop and glance over my shoulder. “Fine, thanks for your help.”

  He nods, holding my eyes. “Good.”

  “Right,” I whisper. “Well then, I better get going.”

  I rush back down the path and up to my cabin, sliding in and shutting the door.

  God.

  Why is every encounter I have with that man intense?

  And why do I like it?

  FIVE

  “So, you haven’t seen him again?” I ask Steph, taking another sip of my wine later that night as we sit on her front porch.

  She shakes her pretty head and sighs. “No. He hasn’t called. Hasn’t even acknowledged me. It makes me wonder how a person can become so ... cold. When you stop caring, about anyone or anything, then something has gone seriously wrong in your life.”

  I ponder that and realize she’s right. What could have happened to him to make him so bitter? No one is just born with that kind of attitude, right? I mean, something had to happen to form him the way he’s been formed. Is it Ryder’s mother? Did something happen with her? Maybe she passed away? That would explain why he’s so ... empty.

  “Do you think it has to do with Ryder’s mother?” I ask Steph.

  She looks over to me and purses her lips. “That whole situation is weird. I can’t figure it out. He’s never spoken about any other woman, Ryder has never spoken about any other woman, and he calls Slade by his name.”

  “You noticed that too, huh?”

  She nods. “Yeah, it’s all very strange. He’s also really protective of Ryder. Like super protective. You can’t say a word wrong to that boy and he’ll flip his switch.”

  I frown. “Yet at the same time he lets him wander off into the woods.”

  “He’s only allowed to go just on the edge, though,” Steph tells me.

  “It’s weird. I wonder what happened to his mom.”

  Steph shrugs. “I asked about it once and he literally acted like he couldn’t hear me. I got the point loud and clear. He did not want to talk about it.”

  “Do you think she’s even still alive?” I ask.

  Steph shrugs again. “I don’t know. I think she is, just from conversations I’ve overheard.”

  “Maybe she broke his heart ...”

  Steph exhales slowly. “I think so. Whatever it is, it made him so bitter and guarded.”

  “Are you OK with everything that happened now?” I ask her, sipping more wine.

  This is exactly what I needed. Time out and girly conversation.

  “Yeah, I didn’t really have any feelings for him, I just liked the company. There is another guy I’ve been talking to at work.”

  I wiggle my brows and lean forward. “Share!”

  “He’s super cute. His name is Tim. I must admit, he seems like a really good guy.”

  “Has he asked you out?”

  She flushes and nods. “He asked me if I wanted to go for coffee.”

  “And?”

  “I freaked out and didn’t say anything, I just nodded and rushed off. I’m never usually shy, but he brings it out in me. Now he probably thinks something is wrong with me.”

  I giggle. “No, I don’t think so. Just go up to him when you go back to work and tell him you’d love to. I’m sure he’ll be happy to hear it.”

  She smiles. “Yeah, I think so. I’m glad you moved in. It was getting awful lonely around here.”

  I beam. “Me too. I’m starting to think I made the right choice coming here.”

  “You should come out with me and a few friends tomorrow night. We’re just going to the local bar, but you might meet a handsome man.”

  She wiggles her brows now, and I laugh.

  “I’m not really up for meeting any men, but I’ll definitely come!”

  “Awesome, they’re coming to pick me up at six tomorrow. Just come over my place and we’ll go together.”

  “Sounds awesome.”

  I have a few more glasses of wine and then wish Steph goodnight and head back toward my cabin. Ryder comes barreling out the front door as I pass Slade’s place and skids to a stop in front of me. “Hi, Rachel! Guess what?”

  I laugh. “What, buddy?”

  “I got this new Pokémon game today. It’s so much fun. You should come and check it out.”

  I look up and see Slade standing on the porch, beer in hand, shirtless. My mouth goes dry. God damn. I could swear every time I look at him, he gets better and better.

  “Ah, it’s probably too late and—”

  “Slade doesn’t mind, do you?” Ryder asks, looking at the big man standing, staring so intensely at me it makes me squirm.

  “No,” Slade murmurs.

  “Well, OK, I’ll come in for a second.”

  I follow R
yder up onto the porch and brush past Slade, trying not to meet that penetrating stare. Once we’re inside, I look around. I haven’t been in his cabin. As predicted, though, it’s similar to mine and Steph’s, only this cabin is a total man cave. From the furniture style, to the pictures on the walls, to the color scheme. It’s definitely a bachelor pad. But a nice one.

  “Come on,” Ryder grabs my hand, tugging it toward the living area where the game is flashing on the screen of the television.

  I sit on the sofa next to him and listen as he tells me all about the game then proceeds to show me how it works. I laugh, it’s hard not to—his enthusiasm is addictive. He’s such a great kid. The entire time, Slade stands in the kitchen, drinking a beer, just watching me. He’s so intense, it’s hard to know which way to look or what to think when he’s just standing there ... staring.

  After about half an hour, I squeeze Ryder’s shoulder carefully and tell him I have to go. He gives me a high five and gets back to his game. I turn to Slade. “Thanks for letting him show me. I’ll get out of your way.”

  “Want a beer?” he asks, not moving from his spot in the kitchen.

  I think about it. Part of me wants to say no and run, because the way he makes me feel is ... strange. But I know I need to be on his good side, because, well, he is my neighbor and I can’t spend the next few months fighting with him. So I do the right thing. I smile and say, “Yes, thank you.”

  He turns, opening the fridge. He pulls out two more beers and nods toward the front door. “We’ll sit on the porch.”

  I nod, walking out and sitting on the top step. He comes over, hesitates, and then sits down beside me, handing me a beer. “Thank you.”

  “You and Steph are getting along, yeah?” he asks, breaking the top off his beer and taking a sip.

  “Yeah, she’s a nice girl.”

  “She is,” he murmurs, staring straight ahead.

  “But not enough for you to want a relationship with?” I dare to ask, glancing at him quickly before staring straight ahead too.

  “I like her, but I’m not looking for a relationship.”

  I can’t really argue with him on that, at least he’s honest, even if he should have broken it off with her the moment he saw her getting closer. Still, I’m not here to argue with him. I remind myself that over and over.

 

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