Page 65 of You Found Me
Ward pulled to a stop in front of his house and stared. There was a car in the driveway. There shouldn’t have been any cars in the driveway. There definitely shouldn’t be any empty cars.
The lack of people in the car implied that those people had gone somewhere else, like inside the house.
He distinctly remembered telling Della not to open the door, much less invite someone in.
The woman could not follow directions even when her life actually depended on it.
He suffered through a flashback of the pool party Della had thrown the second he’d left the house. The image of her riding Hollywood Golden Twit like a pony was burned into his brain.
This house didn’t have a pool, and he’d only been gone for twenty minutes.
How the hell did she manage to attract attention in a locked house with no phone in under twenty minutes?
One glance at the shiny, dark red Porsche with vanity plates that read HCQEEN told him exactly who was keeping Della company.
Rachel Parry.
One of five of the current generation of the Parry clan, famed founders of Wires Crossing and the reason the town was even a speck on the map.
Rachel was the most popular girl in school. Head cheerleader. Homecoming queen. Voted the Most Likely to Succeed.
She was also his high-school sweetheart.
It was stupid in hindsight. The quarterback dating the head cheerleader was an old cliché for a reason. Everyone thought they should be together, so they were. It had felt real at the time, but it wasn’t. At best it was convenient. Until it wasn’t.
He regretted the seventeen-year-old hormones that had trapped him in her orbit back then. He regretted them deeply. Especially right now.
He swore as he took the keys out of the ignition. The last thing he needed was Della practicing her new cover story on his ex-girlfriend. Rachel knew him too well, and she was great at sniffing out a lie.
Ward gathered the groceries and carried them in with the intention of ending whatever party was going on as fast as possible.
Female voices wafted down the hallway. They were so involved in their discussion that they didn’t hear him close the door.
He put the crinkling sacks down on the entry table and moved silently closer to the conversation.
“Well, I knew right then that Donny was the one for me,” Della said, her voice bubbling with amusement.
He cringed at her use of the nickname Rachel had given him their freshman year. He’d hated it then. He loathed it now.
At least Della was sticking to their cover story.
His impression of her inched up a little. She’d let people in, but she hadn’t blown anything. Yet.
He thought he detected two separate feminine laughs in response. In high school, Rachel never went anywhere without her constant sidekick, Gretchen.
Gretchen had worn Rachel’s popularity like a sweater.
“I can’t believe Donovan actually fought over you. That’s just…” He’d know Rachel’s haughty tone anywhere.
“Men,” Gretchen said. “They never really grow up, do they.”
“Don’t be like that,” Rachel said. “I remember him being plenty grown-up when we dated.”
Her tone carried a lot of innuendo and implications, most of which were true.
Flashbacks of nights in the back of his truck raced through his head. The heady rush of having a naked woman in his arms made him feel like he was king of the whole damn world.
He’d felt invincible.