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Vale slid his glance to the side. “We . . .”
Inching her chin up a fraction, her backbone ramrod stiff, her hair catching in a gust of wind, Harper said, “We met last week.”
“Last week?” Rachel’s jaw dropped. “Holy . . . When?”
“We were at a baseball game. Lucas brought him.”
Rachel shook her head. “This is ludicrous. You met him last week and tonight you were . . . Oh, geez, honey, what were you thinking?”
Cade doubted much thought had gone into the encounter. He remembered what it was like to be young, how hot one’s blood could flow, how quickly emotions got out of hand, how he and Rachel hadn’t been able to keep their hands from each other’s bodies, how all they’d thought about was being together, alone. And what had happened? Barely a year out of high school Rachel had gotten pregnant with the very daughter she was now trying to warn.
“How old are you?” he asked Vale as a car turned the corner, a white sedan. Reminded of the Buick with Idaho plates he’d spied earlier, he watched, tensing, as the sedan drove past, engine purring, headlights washing beams over the street before heading downhill. An older Ford Taurus. Oregon license plate illuminated. Not the same vehicle.
“Just turned twenty,” Vale was saying. “I, uh, I go to U of O, down in Eugene. I was just up here hanging out with Lucas. We played ball together. I’m in pre-law. His old man, er, his dad said I could work for him this summer full time. I work there now, part time.”
My old man, Cade thought.
“Harper’s seventeen,” Rachel said in a low voice. For a second her eyes narrowed on Vale; then she glanced at her ex, as if he could solve this problem.
Cade had been a few years older than Vale was now when he and Rachel had first gotten together. He’d been to college, served as a Marine. But he’d fallen for a teenaged girl. “Look. I think what Harper’s mom is saying is that if you want to date our daughter, ask her out.”
“She wouldn’t let me go,” Harper spat, shooting her mother a hard glare.
“Probably not,” Rachel agreed.
Cade held up his hands. “Let’s just slow this train down, okay?”
“Nothing happened, Dad!” Harper cried. “Nothing. We just kissed.”
“Okay.”
Vale gave a quick nod. “She’s right. Nothing happened.” But his dark eyes smoldered and Cade didn’t trust the kid as far as he could throw him.
“Let’s just keep it that way, okay?”
“Yeah.” The kid gave a quick nod while Harper, mortified, glared at her father.
Dylan, embarrassed, on one foot then the other, caught his attention. “Can we just go?”
“Yeah,” Cade said. “You got your things?”
“In Mom’s car.”
“Transfer them. I’ll be right there.” Then as Dylan hurried down the steps and bounced across the yard, Cade eyed Harper and Xander. “We all understand each other here?”
Harper nodded stiffly.
Vale said, “I’m cool.”
“Good.” Cade doubted it; he’d been in the throes of teenaged lust. “Cool” wasn’t a part of it. Worse yet, Harper was casting the kid a sly, adoring glance. As if Xander Vale were God’s gift.
Yeah, that was a problem.
Cade said, “Okay. Let’s go, then.”
Relieved, Vale lifted a hand in Harper’s direction, turned, opened the door, and zipped into the house to take the stairs two at a time.
Athletic. Good looking. Slightly rebellious. Older.
