Home > Some like It Wild (The Wild Ones #2)(15)

Some like It Wild (The Wild Ones #2)(15)
Author: M. Leighton

Handsome, charming, sexy Jake.

Jake who sets my blood on fire. Jake who I can’t get out of my head.

“Home sweet home,” he says lightly as he parks at the curb in front of the house I grew up in.

I grab my rumpled clothes and purse from the floorboard and reach for the door handle. “Thanks, Jake. I had a good time.”

“My pleasure,” he replies.

He seems . . . off somehow, but I can’t put my finger on it. I want to ask, but there are a thousand reasons why I shouldn’t, why I shouldn’t even care.

“Well, good night.”

“Good night.” I start to climb down, but Jake’s voice stops me. “Oh, wait.” My heart speeds up in anticipation. Jake cuts off the engine and pulls the keys from the ignition. He works one free and hands it to me. “Here. I won’t be there for a few days. It’s a round-the-clock shift at the fire station. Let yourself in, make yourself at home. Call my cell if you have any questions about anything.”

I take the key from his fingers. “How will you get back in tonight?”

He waves me off. “I didn’t lock the door. Besides, we have a spare key hidden in one of the barns.”

I nod and give him a small smile, feeling bereft that the night is ending like this. So cool. So casual. So disappointing in the face of what happened earlier.

You’ve got no one to blame but yourself. Besides, you should be pleased. Jake Theopolis is a complication you don’t need.

“Sweet dreams, Laney,” Jake says as I’m shutting the door. I look back, but he’s already pulling away.

But I could’ve sworn I saw him grinning, and that elevates my mood considerably. That seems a little more in character for him. Enough to bring a delighted smile to my face.

I’m still grinning in pleasure as I walk through the unlocked front door of my parents’ house. When I shut it behind me and hear nothing but unnatural quiet and the tick of the mantle clock in the living room, my guard goes up immediately.

There’s trouble brewing.

Quietly, I creep toward the steps. I feel like a teenager again, trying to avoid a confrontation that will end in a lecture and then me being grounded for all eternity.

Only I’m not a teenager. And I’m beginning to resent that I still feel that way when I come home.

“Laney, can you come here?”

My father. And I recognize that tone.

My stomach drops.

Curling my clothes into a tighter ball, I straighten my spine and walk to the living room. I smile casually when I stop just inside the doorway. “What’s up?”

Both my parents look like I’ve just slapped them across the face. And they’re both staring at my wad of clothes.

“Laney, what on earth?” Mom asks, holding a hand to her throat like I just announced I’m pregnant or joining a cult.

“Where have you been, young lady?” Daddy asks.

“Out.”

I know such a short answer will only incur more questions and more wrath, but I’m still feeling a bit defiant from the taste of freedom I’ve enjoyed all day.

“Out where? And with whom? And whose clothes are those? Because I know they’re not yours.”

“And just how do you know that, Daddy?”

“Because my daughter would never dress like that!” he booms.

“And what’s wrong with this? I’m not showing anything inappropriate. And, for what I was doing, this was actually quite concealing.”

Mom gasps.

“And just what were you doing?”

“Swimming. Is that a problem?”

“Where?”

“A place called the Blue Hole.”

My father’s face turns red. “You know you’re forbidden to go to places like that.”

“Yes, Daddy. I know I was forbidden to go to places like that. But that was before I went to college, became an adult, and got a job out in the real world.”

“Just because you’re a few years older doesn’t make places like that any more appropriate. Or the people that frequent them.” I say nothing. There’s no arguing with him when he’s like this. “Who were you with? Who took you to that hellhole?”

I grit my teeth. This will just be icing on the cake. “Jake Theopolis.”

“Laney, I’ve told you—”

I interrupt my father’s blustering. “I know, I know. You don’t think he’s good company. You don’t think he’s the right kind of friend to have. You don’t approve. Well, you know what, Daddy? I like him. He’s kind and he helped me when I needed it today. And I think you’ve misjudged him.”

“And just what would Shane think about you spending time with someone like that?”

He thinks that’s what will cinch up his argument. A veiled threat to tattle on me to my fiancé.

Ha! He’s my ex-fiancé!

“I don’t care, Daddy. And it doesn’t matter. How many times do I have to tell you that we broke up?”

“Well, until you give me a good reason, I’m not giving up on the two of you. Shane’s a good man. The right kind of man. Good for you. You need to hang on to him. And cavorting about with a person like Jake Theopolis could ruin what you have with him. And I won’t stand for that. Someone has to look out for you, do what’s best for you.”

“Maybe so, Daddy. But you’re not it. From now on, I’m the only one that’s looking out for me. And if I ever find someone I feel like handing the reins over to, I’ll be sure to let you know. But until then, back off!”

With that, I whirl away from my stunned parents and storm up the stairs and to my room, slamming the door behind me.

If they want a teenager back in the house, I’ll give them one!

* * *

Between that devilish drink I had at the Blue Hole, the drama with my parents, and the miniscule amount of sleep I was able to get after it, I’m tired and cranky by the time I drive back home from Jake’s Monday.

As I pull up in front of the house, I wonder absently why Mom’s car is parked on the street at the curb rather than in the garage. When nothing comes to mind right away, I shrug it off and grab my stuff from the passenger seat to head inside.

Something wonderful teases my nose when I open the door. I inhale deeply, feeling better already. “I’ll be back down after I change clothes, Mom!” I call, aiming my voice toward the kitchen as I head for the stairs.

In my room, I dig through my still-packed suitcase and pull out some yoga pants and a T-shirt with a rip at the neck. I’m hoping my most comfortable clothes will bring me good luck. Maybe my parents can just leave last night where it belongs—in the past.

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