Wreckless (9 page)

“Again, I don't think so.”

He stood there, with his hands on his hips, damp hair clinging to him, as if he was actually thinking it over.

“If you have even an ounce of gentleman in you, Jake Moore, you'll march your butt to the back of the truck and sit it down facing north.”

“My naked butt?”

“Well, it's not naked now, is it?”

Jake laughed as he trudged up to the truck. I could hear him lowering the tailgate and the struts groaning as he hopped onto the back.

As fast as I could, I hurried toward the pile of clothes, wringing the water from my hair and using the blanket to towel off at speed that made lightning look lazy.

Once I was dressed, I sat to pull my shoes on and wondered about the rest of the list.

You'd think after nudity, everything else would have been easy. But in my moment of insanity, I'd outlined the perfect night of rebellion…for someone rebellious.

I'd never been the rebellious type.

Then again, I'd never been the really ticked-off type, either. But every time I stopped and thought about how I'd gotten here in the first place, I got angry all over again.

If Tanner hadn't wanted to date me, he hadn’t had to ask me out. Even after that, if he'd wanted to date Leah, he could have dumped me. It wasn't like we were married. I wasn't thinking forever.

I was just thinking,
Life is good. I have a great best friend, a great guy, and a school that has finally quit looking at me like I might implode at any moment.

Who'd have thought that implosion would happen because of my very small inner circle? Not to mention that it was continuing out in the middle of nowhere with no one around to witness it.

See? Silver lining.

At the back of the truck, I leaned against the tailgate and put my hand out.

“Can I have my list back now?”

“I'll give it back so you can cross off skinny-dipping. But that's it.” He pulled the napkin out and held it toward me. When I reached for it, he snatched it away. “Don't make me take this back.”

I'd never met anyone so able to make every statement sound like a threat and a promise at the same time.

Using the Sharpie, I drew a thick, black line through number twelve,
Skinny-Dipping.

I thought about shoving the napkin down the front of my t-shirt, but was guessing that wasn't going to stop Jake from taking it back. He seemed to take some type of perverse joy in pushing me. I was betting that
Spontaneous Bra Search
wouldn't be off his list.

“Didn't you have somewhere you needed to be?”

Jake shifted, his gaze going out over my head toward the stars. For a moment, I wondered what he was thinking. That devil-may-care look disappeared from his eyes and he almost frowned, a small crease denting the space between his brows.

Then, as if I’d imagined it, he was back in control. Maybe this place, and that
one
girl he’d brought here before, were more memories than he’d counted on.

“Don't you worry. I texted them while you dressed. They won't be expecting me for a while now.” He shoved the list into his front pocket again and asked, “What's it going to be, darlin’? You had enough excitement in your life for the rest of high school?”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Not that I hadn’t been pondering that very thing a moment ago.

“I figured you used up all your anger and bravado just getting to the water. God knows how you made it back out and into your clothes. I'm just doubting you've got anything left in you for the rest of the night.”

Without waiting for a reply, he hopped down from the tailgate and headed around to the passenger’s side, letting me wander after him like a lemming.

I tried to reply, but nothing came out. I couldn't even get my mouth shut to form a word, my jaw had dropped so low.

“I mean,” he continued, as he held the door open for me, “I'm betting this was enough for you to tuck it away and say you had your crazy night when you were young. Don't get me wrong—for a girl like you, that's a big deal.”

A girl like me? What the heck was that supposed to mean?

He shut the door and swaggered around the front of the truck looking pretty darn sure of himself. The overhead light lit up when he opened the driver’s side door, his confidence way too clear on that cocky face of his.

“You don't think I can do anything else, do you?”

“I'm just saying,” He slid one hand across the back of the bench and picked up the wet, straggly end of my braid. “I'm not sure your heart could take anymore.”

He probably dated girls with fake IDs who danced not just
in
honky tonk bars, but on the actual bar. Nudity was probably a norm, and the world at my speed was moving backward to him.

“You still think I'm a coward.”

“I didn’t say you were a coward. All I said was this was probably a lot for you. Not only did you go skinny-dipping—no looking allowed, of course—but you even had a whole half of a beer. Well, almost half a beer. Okay, you had
some
beer. I think.”

“Give me the list.”

“I don't think that's such a good idea.”

“Give me the list. I'm picking out my next thing.”

I looked at the napkin, the words bleeding across the quilted surface, and picked the next one. It looked easy, but with my luck it would land my butt in jail.

“I'll take felonies for two thousand, Alex.”

Chapter Eight

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

No. Not at all. This was a
felony
. I was stealing government property. At five-foot-four, one hundred and six pounds, I wasn't built for prison. I was way too slight. I would never hold my own in a prison yard brawl.

But I glanced up at the street sign and wanted it. I mean, I didn't just want to do this to prove I could. I wanted that darn sign. I wanted to
steal
that sign.

I’d never broken a law—except that little bit of beer and my brief stint with trespassing…and maybe public nudity. I’d have to check into that. But those had been very private law-breaking events. I didn’t drink and drive, no one was hurt by the trespassing, and no one knew about the nudity except Jake. This was a whole new level of law breaking. I mean, I definitely had never stolen anything.

And yes, I was feeling the guilt already. Yet part of me really,
really
wanted that sign.

“Bridget, I can see the guilt flowing off you, and you're just thinking about taking the damn thing. We can skip this if you want. Maybe it's too risky for you.”

Jake was watching the horizon, staring down the long scatter-shot-lit road as he waited me out.

“You know what?” he continued. “We could just take your picture with the sign. Then you don't have to worry about the whole felony thing.”

I put my foot on the bed railing and climbed onto the roof of the cab so I could reach the sign.

“Hand me that flathead.”

Jake handed me the screwdriver while still keeping an eye the road.

“You're going to have to be quick. Don't blow this. I'm not going to jail for you.”

There was something in his voice this time that had me looking at him.

“Got a record there, Moore?”

He mumbled something and I stopped to face him. He reached to brace my leg when he saw me move.

“What was that?” I asked.

He was still looking down the road, watching for on coming cars. “I said not exactly.”

Crap. Breaking a law in my town would get me a
that Poor Larson Girl finally snapped
and a slap on the wrist. It sounded like it might be a little more than that for Jake.

“Do you want to go?” I asked, willing to give this one up if it wasn’t my fault.

“Just hurry up and get your damn sign.”

I braced myself against the post and worked the flathead into the rusted screw’s head. After a few aborted twists where the screwdriver kept slipping out, I knew that thing wasn’t going anywhere.

Not unless we had some WD-40.

It wouldn't surprise me if he had some in his toolkit. I mean, he drove a truck about thirty seconds away from rusting out. He probably needed the stuff occasionally.

I crouched to ask him to grab it, but when he turned to steady me again I saw how tight his jaw was. His mouth slashed in a tight line where those lips had previously lifted in a mocking curve.

I waited for the snide remark, the little push. I was actually doing what he wanted, and he wasn’t paying any attention. When the push didn’t come, I knew. I knew this was bigger than he was going to own up to.

“It won't move.” I sat and then swung my legs over the top of the cab. “Looks like it's been there forever and a day. Rusted right through.”

Strong hands wrapped around my waist as I jumped down and steadied me in the truck bed. He held me steady, his warmth seeping through my dress, but his attention shifted from the road up and over me to the sign.

“Let me try.” Jake reached for the screwdriver I wouldn't hand him, giving it a harsh tug.

That jaw was still locked tight.

“Don't bother. Let's go.”

I waited for him to accuse me of chickening out. To demand I get myself back on his roof and steal government property. I doubt he knew I was stopping for him, not me. But there was just something about seeing someone you didn't think had boundaries standing uncomfortably on the wrong side of his.

A shame. I could have used that felony under my belt.

Okay, no. I really didn't need a crime in my past, but the sign seemed so trivial compared to other things I could have come up with.

“It's really not coming down. I think we'd need a blowtorch…which, believe it or not, I totally know how to operate.”

Jake just shook his head and tossed the screwdriver in the toolbox before flipping it shut.

He handed me down from the tailgate and grabbed the box. I kept an eye on him as I wandered to the passenger’s door and climbed in. He glanced down the road again, but not with the same anxiety he’d had on the roof. He stashed the toolbox behind the seat before he climbed in, his body still fighting to get loose again.

While we were busy talking about all the ways I'd avoided breaking rules, I was betting we weren't going to hit on the ways he'd broken them…and just what exactly his “not exactly” meant.

“You know…” I should have stopped right there. I really should have. “We could steal something else.”

I have no idea who had taken over my body, but she was coming up with ideas I'd never have thought of let alone mentioned.

Jake's hand brushed the back of my neck as he stretched his arm out across the flattop of the bench.

“Oh yeah? You want to steal something else?” His grin was kicked up on one side again, just like every other time he was humoring me. “Have you got something in mind?”

As soon as he asked, I knew exactly what I wanted to take.

“Oh yeah.”

# # #

We slowed at the corner before turning down the road and driving past the house, checking it out. I was officially ‘casing the joint
.
’

Everything was in place. Almost all the lights were off. The only one still on was over the wide doors of the outbuilding. And the person most likely to catch us was most likely in the back of my boyfriend’s Ford.

It was all good.

“Keep going a little farther. You can't see the road’s second bend from the house.”

“Wow, you've really thought this out.”

Not really. Not at all. I was running on pure vengeance now.

We jumped out, each of us closing our door as quietly as possible, and headed back to the house.

“Who lives here?”

“Does it matter?”

“Not if it isn't the chief of police.”

“It's Leah's house.”

“Damn it, Bridget. Seriously?”

It was my turn to grin. “Who's afraid now?”

I climbed through the fence, trying to keep my skirt below my knees as I did, and then watched as Jake vaulted over it like it was one foot high.

“I don't suppose what you're stealing is going to happen to be right here on the edge of the property.”

“Nope.” I couldn't help it. I was giddy. This was better than a street sign. This was everything I wanted wrapped up in Christmas packages and rainbows and ice cream.

Jake followed me across the yard, past the house, until we got to a set of lawn chairs that looked as if they were sitting in a random location.

I pulled Jake close and motioned for him to lean down so I could whisper in his ear. “Stay directly behind me.”

“Okay.”

“No. Seriously. Right behind me, or we're in trouble.”

Jake looked almost as anxious as when we were trying to take the sign. It was nice to be the chilled one for a change.

“Is that slightly panicked look because we're taking something from someone or that you're not in control for a millisecond tonight?”

With a light push, he sent me toward the house. “Let's just get this over with.”

I stepped around the lawn chair and glanced back to make sure he was following me. At the side of the house, I edged along until we got to the basement door. Then I counted four bricks down from the doorknob and tugged.

The shiny little key was exactly where it was supposed to be.

I pulled it out, dusting it off, and wrapped my fingers around it.

Putting the brick back exactly right, I smiled at my handiwork and started back toward the lawn chairs.

When we got to the edge of the property, I started running, adrenaline-fueled speed pushing me through the fence and to the truck before I needed to catch my breath.

“Go! Go! Go!”

Jake turned the engine over and headed us down the road away from the scene of the crime.

I couldn't help it. I started laughing. Gut-deep, until my sides hurt.

I had a ‘scene of the crime.’

And, bonus. This was way better than a sign because of the lack of felony-level guilt.

“You want to tell me what's so funny and why we stole a key?”

“Leah never makes curfew and she's big on sneaking out to meet boys.”

I froze a second, my joy dimmed by the fact that one of those guys had been Tanner. How many nights had he dropped me off before meeting her down the lane by the trees where we'd left Jake's truck?