Breathless In Love
Page 12
And of who he really was.
No matter how much Will changed on the outside, how many people he helped, or how much money he made—he knew he would always be his father’s son. A father who was a liar, a thief, and a bully. You’re a chip right off the old block, was what Gino Franconi had told him many, many times. And even though Will hadn’t seen his father in more than twenty years, he never wanted to forget that his blood ran dirty—didn’t want to think he could ever turn cocky and let his guard drop just because he hadn’t screwed up for two decades. He’d easily need a lifetime to make up for the liar and thief he’d been.
And yet, sometimes his need for that rush was just so damned strong...
Will had never put anyone in the hospital the way the teen who’d crashed into Jeremy had, but he’d still hurt a hell of a lot of people when he was younger, people who hadn’t deserved to have their cars stolen or their kids’ lives turned upside down by being dragged into a gang by a punk like Will. He’d hotwired stolen cars, drag-raced, fought hard, drunk hard. And that had been after his father had gone to prison and Will had moved in with Daniel’s parents. At the time, Susan had been a couple of years younger than Will was now, but she’d started going gray because of him. And Bob, the same age as Susan, had lost what little hair he’d had. Without Susan and Bob and the Mavericks, Will would have remained his father’s son for the rest of his life, still living in that dirty, neglected Chicago neighborhood.
Will wasn’t proud of the kid he’d been. And he definitely wasn’t proud that it had taken him so long to change. Way too long. And way too late.
He tucked the shirt into his dark jeans and buckled his belt, thinking about the pact he’d made with the other Mavericks. The day they’d made that pact was the day he finally understood he’d found his true family in the Mavericks, never the Road Warriors. He, Daniel, and Sebastian were eighteen, almost out of high school. Evan and Matt had another year to go, but they were all ready to turn their backs on Chicago and everything in it, except Susan and Bob. They’d sworn to get out, to make it big. They’d come from hell, aimed for a heaven gilded in gold, iced with diamonds, and they’d done it, all of them. If it weren’t for the fact that Susan and Bob refused to leave their hometown, Will would never go back there. Thank God Daniel had at least convinced his parents to move to a decent suburb and accept a house the five of them could well afford to buy for the couple.
Yesterday, Harper had seen the entrepreneur, the businessman, the cars, the house, the money. She hadn’t seen the Road Warrior, and he planned to keep it that way. He was glad that she’d told him her story and he hoped to learn even more about her tonight. But he knew with utter certainty that his story wasn’t one he should ever tell her.
Not if he wanted her to stick around with him for even a little while.
And though he’d only spent a couple of hours with her, he already knew he wanted her to stick around a hell of a lot longer than that.
* * *
What was she supposed to wear to dinner with a billionaire?
Dressed only in panties and bra, Harper stared into her meager closet. A pile of discarded clothing lay on the bed—jeans, shirts, a couple of dresses. Nothing seemed right, certainly not any of her staid work clothes. She had one serviceable cocktail dress, but Will had been just as mysterious about where he was taking her as he was about everything else. For all she knew, he had something outrageous planned, like a hot air balloon ride in Napa, or a flight to Tahoe in his private jet for an intimate dinner in an exclusive casino restaurant. Didn’t rich men on TV always do things like that to show off on first dates?
Jeremy banged on her door. He did everything exuberantly, which she usually loved. Tonight, however, the loud pounding was reverberating a little too loudly through her brain. “Harper, he’ll be here soon. Aren’t you ready yet?”
She was showered, her hair washed, and her makeup done. She just had to decide on her outfit—hopefully before the next century rolled around. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
Jeremy had talked nonstop about Will since yesterday. His cars, his garage, his tools, how nice he was. And secretly, she had to admit she’d been just as thrilled about how attentive Will had been to her. She didn’t scold herself for that, though. After all, what normal woman wouldn’t be affected by his attention?
Speeding beside him in the car, with the wind whipping her hair all around, had made her feel wild. And free. More free than she’d been in a very long time. For so long she’d been so careful, but Will had aimed right at the heart of all her secret desires, and in the end she’d been helpless to turn down dinner with him.
Just one night to pretend that she was a normal woman, with a normal life.
Surely, taking her eye off the ball for one short dinner couldn’t hurt anything, could it?
Jeremy banged on the door again. “Are you ready?”
She closed her eyes and stuck her hand in the closet, grabbing a hanger. Whatever it was, that’s what she’d wear. It turned out to be a flowing, brightly printed skirt that hit her at midcalf. Maybe just a little too sweet, so she paired it with a form-fitting cream-colored sweater and a pair of heels.
At long last, she picked up her purse from the dresser and opened her bedroom door. “Yes, I’m ready now.”
“Wow, you look really pretty!” Jeremy said, which told her she must have chosen well, since he rarely commented on her outfits. Then again, she rarely ever dressed up, since it was always just the two of them.
No matter how much Will changed on the outside, how many people he helped, or how much money he made—he knew he would always be his father’s son. A father who was a liar, a thief, and a bully. You’re a chip right off the old block, was what Gino Franconi had told him many, many times. And even though Will hadn’t seen his father in more than twenty years, he never wanted to forget that his blood ran dirty—didn’t want to think he could ever turn cocky and let his guard drop just because he hadn’t screwed up for two decades. He’d easily need a lifetime to make up for the liar and thief he’d been.
And yet, sometimes his need for that rush was just so damned strong...
Will had never put anyone in the hospital the way the teen who’d crashed into Jeremy had, but he’d still hurt a hell of a lot of people when he was younger, people who hadn’t deserved to have their cars stolen or their kids’ lives turned upside down by being dragged into a gang by a punk like Will. He’d hotwired stolen cars, drag-raced, fought hard, drunk hard. And that had been after his father had gone to prison and Will had moved in with Daniel’s parents. At the time, Susan had been a couple of years younger than Will was now, but she’d started going gray because of him. And Bob, the same age as Susan, had lost what little hair he’d had. Without Susan and Bob and the Mavericks, Will would have remained his father’s son for the rest of his life, still living in that dirty, neglected Chicago neighborhood.
Will wasn’t proud of the kid he’d been. And he definitely wasn’t proud that it had taken him so long to change. Way too long. And way too late.
He tucked the shirt into his dark jeans and buckled his belt, thinking about the pact he’d made with the other Mavericks. The day they’d made that pact was the day he finally understood he’d found his true family in the Mavericks, never the Road Warriors. He, Daniel, and Sebastian were eighteen, almost out of high school. Evan and Matt had another year to go, but they were all ready to turn their backs on Chicago and everything in it, except Susan and Bob. They’d sworn to get out, to make it big. They’d come from hell, aimed for a heaven gilded in gold, iced with diamonds, and they’d done it, all of them. If it weren’t for the fact that Susan and Bob refused to leave their hometown, Will would never go back there. Thank God Daniel had at least convinced his parents to move to a decent suburb and accept a house the five of them could well afford to buy for the couple.
Yesterday, Harper had seen the entrepreneur, the businessman, the cars, the house, the money. She hadn’t seen the Road Warrior, and he planned to keep it that way. He was glad that she’d told him her story and he hoped to learn even more about her tonight. But he knew with utter certainty that his story wasn’t one he should ever tell her.
Not if he wanted her to stick around with him for even a little while.
And though he’d only spent a couple of hours with her, he already knew he wanted her to stick around a hell of a lot longer than that.
* * *
What was she supposed to wear to dinner with a billionaire?
Dressed only in panties and bra, Harper stared into her meager closet. A pile of discarded clothing lay on the bed—jeans, shirts, a couple of dresses. Nothing seemed right, certainly not any of her staid work clothes. She had one serviceable cocktail dress, but Will had been just as mysterious about where he was taking her as he was about everything else. For all she knew, he had something outrageous planned, like a hot air balloon ride in Napa, or a flight to Tahoe in his private jet for an intimate dinner in an exclusive casino restaurant. Didn’t rich men on TV always do things like that to show off on first dates?
Jeremy banged on her door. He did everything exuberantly, which she usually loved. Tonight, however, the loud pounding was reverberating a little too loudly through her brain. “Harper, he’ll be here soon. Aren’t you ready yet?”
She was showered, her hair washed, and her makeup done. She just had to decide on her outfit—hopefully before the next century rolled around. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
Jeremy had talked nonstop about Will since yesterday. His cars, his garage, his tools, how nice he was. And secretly, she had to admit she’d been just as thrilled about how attentive Will had been to her. She didn’t scold herself for that, though. After all, what normal woman wouldn’t be affected by his attention?
Speeding beside him in the car, with the wind whipping her hair all around, had made her feel wild. And free. More free than she’d been in a very long time. For so long she’d been so careful, but Will had aimed right at the heart of all her secret desires, and in the end she’d been helpless to turn down dinner with him.
Just one night to pretend that she was a normal woman, with a normal life.
Surely, taking her eye off the ball for one short dinner couldn’t hurt anything, could it?
Jeremy banged on the door again. “Are you ready?”
She closed her eyes and stuck her hand in the closet, grabbing a hanger. Whatever it was, that’s what she’d wear. It turned out to be a flowing, brightly printed skirt that hit her at midcalf. Maybe just a little too sweet, so she paired it with a form-fitting cream-colored sweater and a pair of heels.
At long last, she picked up her purse from the dresser and opened her bedroom door. “Yes, I’m ready now.”
“Wow, you look really pretty!” Jeremy said, which told her she must have chosen well, since he rarely commented on her outfits. Then again, she rarely ever dressed up, since it was always just the two of them.
