Wild Angel

by Shari Copell

  Several fragmented thoughts made his heart pound with apprehension.

  This is going to kill Nicks.

  Her parents are going to kill me.

  My God, I’m in love with Asher Pratt’s daughter. How cool is that?

  I can’t tell her. She thinks Tage is her father. She loves him. He loves her. This is going to throw a curve the size of a small planet into their lives. I can’t do that to them.

  Tage Sorenson is going to tear me limb from limb.

  She has a right to know. Wouldn’t you want to know if Asher Pratt were your father? Hell, yes!

  She didn’t even know who he was. She certainly doesn’t know what he looks like. She can’t begin to imagine what he was to Pittsburgh. This is only going to hurt her.

  Stone squeezed his eyes shut and debated his next move. He was supposed to run a D.J. job at Hoppy’s Bar and Grill that night, but he knew it wasn’t going to happen. He’d have to call Ron Lavery to take over for him. He needed to be with Nicks, even if he decided not to say a word about the revelation he’d just had.

  He knew one thing for certain: he needed to go home, drink a lot, and give this some serious thought before he went to see her that afternoon.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Nicks was sitting on her bed playing the white Les Paul when someone pounded on her locked door, none too gently.

  “Who is it?”

  “It’s Lindsay. I’m having trouble with my homework assignment for science. Mom said you’d help me.”

  Lindsay had the oddest way of making a simple request sound like an ultimatum. She turned to address the door. “Reese and Aimee are the geniuses around here. Why don’t you ask one of them?”

  “Reese is helping set up the science fair at school, and Aimee and T.J. are with Grandma Whitaker.” Lindsay sighed dramatically. “Look, if you don’t want to help me, just say so. Mom said you were good at science.”

  “What kind of science?”

  “Punnett squares. I don’t get them at all.”

  Hey! Something she really was good at!

  Nicks laid the guitar in its case and closed the lid. She knew sending Lindsay up here to ask for help was also a mandate from her mother. Refusing was not an option.

  “Yeah, I can help you with that. Go sit at the kitchen table. I’ll be right down.”

  After Lindsay left, Nicks pulled her hair back into a ponytail and secured it with a rubber band. Grabbing some paper and a pen, she headed downstairs.

  Lindsay sat at the kitchen table, an eager smile on her face. Her science book was open to Chapter Seven. Human Heredity.

  The scent of dryer sheets wafted up from the basement. Her mother was doing laundry, which meant she would hear everything that was said in the kitchen. She and Lindsay usually ended up arguing when they were in the same space. Nicks would have to tap into a wellspring of patience so as not to piss her mother off.

  She took a seat at the end of the table. “So what don’t you understand about Punnett squares? They’re pretty easy, really. You have to know which genes are dominant and which are recessive. Then you can predict the probability of inheritance.”

  “Everything.” Lindsay gestured at her book in frustration. “They don’t make sense.”

  “Sure they do. You have to—”

  “Hey, Nicks. Can I ask you a question.”

  “Sure.”

  “Is Stone your boyfriend?”

  Nicks opened her mouth, unsure what she should say. Given the time they’d spent together—and the way she was starting to feel about him—the answer was yes.

  “I guess so. We haven’t really talked about it, but I think we like being around each other. We’re friends at least.”

  “He has a cool car. And he’s pretty cute for an old guy.”

  Nicks was about to protest the use of the word old and decided against it. She thought he must seem ancient to a thirteen-year-old.

  “I’ll tell him you said so.” Nicks gave her sister a gentle poke in the ribs.

  Lindsay was going to be a beauty someday, no doubt about that. She had the sturdy-yet-lean body of a dancer, and her breasts were just starting to swell. Hair the color of summer wheat caught and held the sunlight as it filtered through the kitchen window. She had their father’s wide face but their mother’s delicate features. Caribbean-blue eyes stared back at Nicks, their father’s eyes, the same color as her other three siblings.

  Nicks wondered what a Punnett square would show for her own eye color. She was the only one with golden-brown eyes, yet their parents both had blue eyes.

  “Do you like playing guitar?” Lindsay planted her arms across the science book, a clear indication she had other things on her mind.

  “I love it. Why do you ask?”

  “Bobby Garrett’s older brother Seth comes to see you at Tapestries sometimes. He said you were the hottest girl he’d ever seen. He asked Bobby to ask me to ask you if you’d go out with him.”

  Nicks leaned across the table. “I don’t have a clue who Seth Garrett is, but I don’t think I can say yes when I’m seeing Stone.”

  Lindsay nodded. “I told him that. I told him Stone had a red Camaro, and no girl in her right mind would give that up to date a guy who drives an old pickup.” Her sister’s cheeks colored a little. “I think Bobby likes me now, because you play guitar in a band. He says it’s really cool. He wants to come over some day and meet you.”

  “And how do you feel about that?”

  “I’ve been trying to get Bobby Garrett to notice me since the beginning of school. I don’t care how it happens, as long as it happens.”

  Nicks was tempted to laugh, but held it. This was the first time Lindsay had ever shown an interest in anything she did. There were times when she felt all alone in a house full of people. It was nice to connect with her sister this way.

  “I wish I had learned to play an instrument.” Lindsay slumped in the chair.

  “You’re a cheerleader. We can’t all be the same.”

  “I know, but cheerleading isn’t something you can do once you’re out of school. I mean, you can do it in college, but then it’s all over. Playing an instrument is something you know forever.”

  “You’ve got a point there.” Nicks reached out, grabbed the girl’s wrists, and inspected her arms. “Yep, you’ve got nice drummer’s arms. You’re still young. It wouldn’t take long to learn if you took lessons. You could be a Pip Del Torres in two years if you worked at it.”

  “Really?” Lindsay came to attention in the chair.

  “Sure. You can learn to do anything if you put your mind to it. You have to really want it though, and you have to practice. A lot. Talk to Mom and Dad. They’ll find someone to give you lessons.”

  “Cool.” Her sister bit her lip. “So if I ask Bobby to come over, will you be nice to him? He thinks you’re awesome.”

  “Of course I’ll be nice to him. I’ll even play something for him if he wants. How does that sound?”

  “I think he’d like that a lot. What should I say if Seth wants to come along?”

  “I think it’s okay, as long as Seth understands that I’m not going out with him.”

  “I’ll make sure I tell Bobby that.”

  “Can we get back to Punnett squares now? I’d like to practice a bit more.”

  Lindsay pulled her arms off her science book. “Yep. Thanks for talking to me about Bobby. He’s the hottest guy at school!”

  The lesson on Punnett squares came to an end with a squeal and the light of comprehension shining in Lindsay’s eyes. It had taken quite a few examples, but the girl had finally gotten it. She’d snapped the book shut and raced upstairs as though she’d been given the keys to the kingdom.

  Nicks studied the last example she’d used, the only one she could think of that they hadn’t used during the tutorial. Dominant brown eyes versus recessive blue. She stared at the paper in her hand, feeling vaguely unsettled.

  Her mother emerged from the basement with a ful
l laundry basket tucked under her arm. “I heard you up here with Lindsay. Thanks for helping her. I don’t know anything about Punnett squares.”

  “No problem.”

  Her mother’s head snapped up. “What’s wrong?”

  Don’t say it. Don’t say it! Aw shit, I’m going to say it.

  “I don’t understand how I got brown eyes and brown hair and everybody else is blonde and blue-eyed.”

  Her mother blew out a breath of exasperation and slammed the basement door with so much force that Nicks jumped. “And I don’t understand why you continue to make such an issue of it. Every time I turn around you’re complaining about your coloring. I have blue eyes, but your grandfather’s eyes are hazel. Your grandmother’s are as green as grass. Genes line up in weird ways sometimes. Get over it.”

  Chelsea marched from the kitchen, laundry basket clutched to her chest like a shield.

  Nicks dropped her gaze back to the Punnett square, more confused than ever. After the morning in the closet, her mother could barely string two sentences together before she was snapping her head off.

  A profound sense of relief settled over her when she heard the distant rumble of Stone’s Camaro coming down the street. She didn’t think she’d see him today.

  Footsteps thumped overhead then down the stairs. Lindsay burst into the kitchen.

  “Stone is coming! Do you think he’d take me for a ride in his Camaro?”

  Nicks turned to her sister. “How about if we go for ice cream, since we’re the only ones here? My treat.”

  Lindsay’s face lit up. “You’re the best!” She turned and ran back upstairs.

  Nicks eyebrows rose in astonishment, certain she was hearing things. “Just don’t tell anyone. I have a reputation to protect,” she muttered to herself.

  She met Stone at the front door. “I thought you had a job tonight?”

  “I did. I got an employee of mine to D.J. instead.”

  “Well, I’m glad to see you. I volunteered you to take Lindsay and me for ice cream. She wants a ride in your car.”

  “I’m glad to see you too.” Stone pulled her into his arms and kissed her thoroughly. “You’ll be coming with us. Yes?”

  “Yes. Let me go grab some cash.”

  “No need. I got this.”

  “You sure? You shouldn’t have to spring for my sister.”

  He rolled his eyes. “It’s ice cream, not a lobster dinner. I can afford to buy Lindsay a sundae.”

  Nicks kissed him on the corner of his mouth. “Thanks.”

  She started to pull back, but he held her fast. His brow furrowed in thought as though he were burning her to a CD in his brain.

  “Why are you looking at me like that? Are you feeling okay?”

  “I needed to see you.” His voice was soft and so serious she thought maybe he was going to tell her he’d changed his mind about her and their future. But he wouldn’t have agreed to take them for ice cream then, would he?

  “Have I done something?” She watched his face for some nuance of expression, anything that might give her a clue what he was thinking. “Are you mad at me?”

  “God, no. I just wanted to see your face.”

  Nicks crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue. “How about that? Was it worth the drive over?”

  She frowned when he didn’t even smile, totally baffled by his mood. “Stone?”

  He pulled her into his arms again, burying his face in her hair. “Don’t say anything. Please. I had to see you. Let me take you and your sister for ice cream then we can talk.”

  She stiffened in his arms. “I know where this is headed. If you’re going to dump me, let me save you the trouble. You can get lost right now. No ice cream needed.” She hated the panic she heard in her voice. She’d gotten used to having him around, and she wasn’t ready for it to end yet. In fact, she was pretty sure she never wanted it to end.

  He loosened his hold on her. “Is that what you think? That I’m going to dump you, after all the things I’ve said to you? I can’t believe you would think that.”

  Nicks blinked. This must be the male version of PMS. She decided she wasn’t going to press him further. Whatever weirdness was going on inside his head, he’d have to work through it on his own.

  Nicks turned to Lindsay as she bounced down the stairs. She was all dolled up, wearing enough makeup to survive a thermo-nuclear blast to the face. Turquoise eye shadow tinted the girl’s eyelids clear up into her eyebrows. She’d obviously used their mother’s blush to color her cheeks—it was a totally inappropriate shade of brick. And she hadn’t simply dabbed it on to the balls of her cheeks. She’d taken it nearly to the corner of her mouth on both sides. Stone stifled a snicker.

  “Lindsay…” Nicks searched for the right words.

  “What?” She drew herself up and glared at Nicks. “Mom said I could wear makeup as long as I was reasonable with it.”

  “Uh huh. Did you ask her for a definition of ‘reasonable’?”

  “Why? Do I look stupid? I thought I did a nice job.”

  Nicks sighed. She wasn’t going to burst her little sister’s bubble today. There was plenty of time to work with her on the finer points of applying makeup. “No. I’m just not used to seeing you with makeup on. You’re fine. Go get in the car. You can sit in the front seat if you want to.”

  With a piercing shriek and an annoying, split-second display of spirit fingers, Lindsay darted past Stone and out the front door.

  It was all Stone could do not to stare at Nicks in the rearview mirror as he drove them to the local DQ. In the time it had taken him to get from his apartment to her house, he’d talked himself out of the crazy thoughts he’d had earlier. She couldn’t be Asher Pratt’s daughter. The idea was ludicrous.

  And yet when he’d seen her again, stared down into her face with a more discerning eye, he knew there was no way she wasn’t his daughter.

  Those eyes. Asher’s. That mouth. Asher’s. She’d even given him a goofy grin that was nearly identical to the one Asher wore in the picture embedded in his gravestone.

  None of it made sense. Nicks had said she was born four days after Asher died. Chelsea and Tage were already married by then. He simply couldn’t picture Chelsea pulling the wool over Tage’s—and Asher’s—eyes about her pregnancy like that. Anyway, Mrs. Sorenson didn’t seem like the kind of woman who would sleep with two guys at the same time.

  If Tage had acted as executor for Asher’s estate, then he had to be aware of what the man looked like. He could surely see that Nicks was the very image of Asher.

  Not a damn bit of logic in any of that, Stones.

  So...what to do? Should he tell her what he suspected? Or not?

  He let the breath he’d been holding out slowly. No. He couldn’t do it. It would just cause problems for her and her family. He might lose her over it, and then what? What proof did he really have of his suspicions anyway?

  He slowed and pulled across traffic into the Dairy Queen parking lot, the decision made. Better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak and remove all doubt.

  The sunroom attached to the back of the Sorenson home was a perfect place to finish a sundae and have some private time with Stone. Nicks pulled her legs up under her on the chair and excavated another scoop of chocolate goo from the cup of ice cream she was holding.

  “Y’know, I’ve been meaning to ask you but I keep forgetting. Are you doing anything next Saturday?” Stone asked.

  It was amazing how fast his dark mood had lifted. It was as though someone had flipped a switch and turned the happy light back on. Or maybe the ice cream had sweetened him up.

  “No. And we’re not playing Friday night at Tapestries either. In fact, I’ll be by myself the whole weekend. Mom and Dad are leaving for a wine-tasting conference in the Poconos on Friday. Reese and Lindsay are staying with friends, and Aimee and T.J. are going to Grandma Whitaker’s. Dad doesn’t like Wild Angel playing at Tapestries unless he’s there to supervise, which se
ems archaic. But it’s nice to have a break once in a while.”

  His face lit up. “That’s great! Can you learn two Sammy Hagar tunes for me by then?”

  “Yes.” She narrowed her eyes. “Which ones? And why?”

  “There’s Only One Way to Rock and I Can’t Drive Fifty-Five. Heavy Remedy has a gig in the early afternoon at an outdoor Oktoberfest downtown. I want you to be our guest guitarist for those two songs. I sing and play lead, but they’re really songs that require two guitars. You can play lead, and I’ll play rhythm.”

  “You’re shitting me.” She stared at him, open-mouthed. Jumpin’ Jesus, was he inviting her into the testosterone-fueled world of male rock guitarists? She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Pleased...and a little vulnerable.

  “I’m not shitting you. I think you’ll be awesome. I get the warm fuzzies in the pit of my stomach every time I think of it.”

  “I already know One Way to Rock. The other one shouldn’t be that hard. I’ll get on iTunes and download it later.” She stuck the spoon into her ice cream and turned toward him. “What kind of response did you get from the rest of Heavy Remedy about this? You did tell them, didn’t you? As I recall, the idea of a guitar-playing pussy was hilarious to all of you. I don’t want anyone to have a coronary because there’s a vagina onstage with them.”

  Stone winced. “Please don’t say that. It makes me cringe inside that I was so clueless. And I haven’t told them yet. But we’ve done stuff like that before. It shouldn’t be a big deal.”

  “You haven’t told them yet.” She repeated it slowly back to him to press a point. “Maybe it would be better if you asked them instead? I know I’d want to run something like that past my girls before we let someone else play with us.”

  “I’ll ask them then. Trust me, they’ll be fine with it.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The alarm on the bedside table went off, piercing Stone’s sleep with Monday, Monday. He slammed his hand down on the snooze button. Thank God it was Thursday, Thursday. He’d thought time would drag, but the week had flown by.