Jerk: Delinquent Rebels MC (2 page)

CHAPTER TWO

“Oh, darling, are you sure you’re eating enough?”

“Mom.” April held back a groan and swatted at the woman’s wandering hand, no doubt reaching out to pinch her leg—a habit that had driven her crazy for years. “Just watch the road.”

Her mom gave a short, curt laugh then brought her hand back to the steering wheel. “This is Cascade Falls, darling. You remember that nobody here ever actually hits the speed limit.”

She bit the insides of her cheeks and resisted the urge to cross her arms and sink into the seat. She’d done it countless times as a teenager, whenever she and her mom were embroiled in a feud of some kind while driving. It felt petty to do it now, especially when her mom had been so thrilled to have her back home again. She’d arrived last night, taking the train in from Bowmansville, and was greeted with an ecstatic woman at the station bearing flowers.

Despite her obvious reservations about James, she’d never seen her mom glow like this before. She’d always been a reserved kind of woman, but since April had been back, her mom was smiling more and laughing harder, not caring that her laugh lines crinkled around her eyes—the same bright blue eyes as April had, though somehow, her mom’s seemed more lifelike. They were alike in a number of other ways, and many had remarked that Renee O’Hara was precisely who April O’Hara would grow up to look like. Their wispy blonde hair, her mom’s whiter with age, had always been thin and easy to manage, much to the chagrin of their friends. April maintained her figure through her twenties—thus far anyway—though she and her mom both had generous hips and a smallish torso. They were tall, but that was due to a pair of long legs on each of them.

April had inherited her father’s lips, fuller than her mom’s, along with his chin and dry wit. She missed him, especially being back in Cascade Falls and driving by all their old familiar spots. The town hadn’t changed since she left for college—though the trees were bigger and the gardens fuller. Nestled at the base of a sweeping valley, Cascade Falls played host to farmers, small businesses, and tourists in equal measures. Its stunning landscape had been featured on many a postcard; occasionally, some Hollywood director decided the forested borders and pristine blue lake would be the perfect set for his next rom-com.

The Palmer estate hadn’t changed much either. April studied the grounds once they’d passed through the gate, her mom’s new car—still stinking of new car smell—rumbling up the smooth curved driveway to the front of the manor. A well-maintained roundabout sat in front of the house, with a fountain and a garden in the middle, and April vaguely remembered Van walking her along the edge of that fountain at that fateful after-party, laughing whenever she wobbled.

Grand sycamores, pines, and willows blocked the property from nosy neighbors, and she knew for a fact that the backyard dipped onto a forested ravine, going on for miles and miles onto undeveloped land. It was hard to believe that in just a few short—or long, depending on how she looked at it—months her mom would call the sprawling estate her home.

“Does… Van still live in Cascade Falls?” she asked, as her mom brought the car to a stop by the front steps. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted someone hurrying toward the vehicle. Her mom shot her a wide smile, nodding.

“Oh, yes, and he’s done quite well for himself, too. I believe James asked him to be here today, so we can all get reacquainted.”

April pursed her lips.
We
obviously referred to her, James, and Van. “Great.”

Thankfully, her mom missed her sullenness, as the man who’d approached the car opened the door and helped the woman out.

“Pleasure to see you again, Miss O’Hara,” the man said, and once April was out, she watched, stunned, as the fellow hopped in and drove the car away.
Valet parking? At a home? Seriously?
This might prove to be a little more trying than she’d expected. A cool spring breeze tickled her calves, as she waited for her mom by the wide-set front steps, her floral sundress fluttering around her legs. It was cooler in Cascade Falls than Bowmansville, and she almost wished she’d worn pants instead.

The dress was just so flattering, clinging to her in all the right places and hiding her problem areas. She’d wanted to look good if it meant meeting a certain Palmer boy again after all these years—if only to remind him of what he’d missed out on by not calling her.

It was petty, sure, but it was hard not to act like a teenager when she was back in the place where she’d last been one.

“Renee!”

“Darling!”

Vomit.
April forced a smile as soon as she was in the immense foyer, a crystal chandelier hanging from the cathedral ceiling over gaudy checkered tiles. If her mom planned to live here, she’d need to do some serious redecorating. James, meanwhile, looked like he’d had a little redecorating of his own—in the Botox department anyway. He descended the stairs with his arms outstretched, still the man she vaguely remembered from her high school era. Tall and lean, his hair had that salt-and-pepper look that so many in the older crowd were sporting these days, and it definitely worked. She could see why her mom might have fallen for him initially; he was, in a way, attractive—though his skin was pulled a little tight. Plus, April wasn’t a fan of his charcoal gray suit.

Her forced smile grew bigger as soon as James turned his eye to her, honing in like a seedy predator who’d just spied his next meal, and she gulped as he swooped in. Much to her relief, he held out his hand once he was near enough, forgoing the hug he’d given her mom.

“April,” he said, his voice taking on a deep rumble, “I’m so pleased you could take the time off to visit. I really feel that this will be a wonderful opportunity to reacquaint ourselves.”

He was eloquent, she’d have to give him that—something he must have done when he started dating her mom, who also spoke quite primly. If memory served her correct, James had been much gruffer when she was a teen, particularly with Van.

“Thank you for inviting me to your home,” she managed to get out, as he squeezed her hand just a little too hard. She held firm though, not wanting him to see her flinch. “It’s as beautiful as I remember.”

His thick black eyebrows shot up, and he finally released her hand. “You’ve been here before? I’m afraid I don’t recall.”

Just as she opened her mouth to remind him, someone else beat her to it.

“April was here for the prom after-party, Dad. Don’t you remember? When Denny and John tried to swing from the chandelier?”

Her breath caught in her throat at the mere sight of Van Palmer stalking toward her from across the foyer. Men were certainly like fine wine: they got better with age, and Van was no exception. While he’d been a rather handsome teenager, he’d morphed into a drop-dead-sexy adult. His eyes, one of her favorite features back in the day, radiated smugness as he approached, the familiar emerald hue making her knees weak. A strong jaw, cheekbones that could cut glass, tousled almond waves of hair—he belonged on the cover of Vogue, not… whatever he was doing these days.

His smart button-up and crisp jeans didn’t help any; they defined his toned body nicely. She found herself tilting her head back to maintain eye contact, knowing he’d tower over her as soon as he stood in front of her. After all, he practically dwarfed her mom when he stooped down to kiss her cheek, which brought a flush to April’s face. Clearing her throat, she looked away.

“Ah, you were one of
those
teens, were you?” James chuckled, patting my arm. “I hope you didn’t break anything while you were here.”

“No, I was very careful,” she remarked, too thrown by Van’s sudden appearance to come up with anything charming or witty. After he’d greeted her mom, Van set his sights on her, and the nearer he came, the harder her heart pounded. With no escape, April forced yet another smile and held out her hand, stopping him an arm’s length from her body.

Unlike his father’s smooth grip, Van’s hands were worn, worked over, perhaps even a little calloused. Strange, given the lavish lifestyle James’s business had afforded him. Back in high school, he was the kind of guy who smoked in the staff parking lot and got drunk at theater productions—not exactly the type to get his hands dirty. But then again, that was the Palmer way if their reputation had any truth to it.

“Good to see you again, Van,” she said, proud that she kept her voice even and firm. They both pumped their arms up and down slowly, hands clasped for a little too long. He smirked, a hint of a dimple appearing on his cheek.

“You too, April.” He moved in closer, her arm no longer a buffer. “Funny thing, our parents getting together.”

“Yeah. Crazy.” April tried to subtly retract her hand, only to find his grip tighten. She swallowed thickly before musing, “Quite the handshake you have there.”

“I almost don’t want to let go,” he admitted, eyebrows quirking up. “As I recall, you were something of a runner back in the day. Don’t want you to bolt again.”

Flushing furiously, she yanked her hand away and stepped around him, not before catching him chuckle under his breath.

“Why don’t you give us a tour, James?” her mom suggested after April shot her an irritated look. The woman took April by the arm and walked her into the house. “Maybe get a drink as well.”

“Make it a double,” April grumbled, shooting a glare over her shoulder at a smirking Van. This… was going to be a long day.

***

April pushed open the door of the resort, gasping for the cool spring air. It filled her lungs, calming her, soothing away her frustrations. The sun was on the verge of setting, but she had been ready to call it a day since noon. Unfortunately, her day hadn’t ended at noon; no, it had dragged on well into the evening, landing her at the lakeside resort where James had chosen to host their “family” dinner. Why they needed to have more than one meal together was beyond her, but she’d hoped Van would politely decline the invite. Maybe he’d have to work or… oh, ride his motorcycle around an elementary school or something.

Instead, Van stuck by the group for the whole day. If she could help it, April did her best not to make eye contact. She purposefully chose to sit across from him in all circumstances, refusing to give him the opportunity to lean over and whisper something in her ear. He’d seemed endlessly amused with her since she arrived at his house that morning, and now, with a too-rich dinner churning in her stomach, she was ready to get the hell out of there.

And it wasn’t just Van’s presence that encouraged her to run. For some reason, her mom thought it was totally acceptable to spend the afternoon getting tipsy on champagne and then get blitzed on red wine over dinner. James commented that she was amusing in her current state, but April could barely stand it. The entire restaurant had watched and listened to her mom’s drunken antics for a good two hours now, and after grabbing her purse, April made a lame excuse to finally bail on the night once and for all.

“April!”

She heard him call her name halfway across the parking lot, and she turned on the spot, making a beeline for the cars lined up along the fence. On the other side sat the gorgeous Cascade Falls Lake, tinted orange by the setting sun. Behind her, Van’s footsteps fell heavily, as he jogged to catch up. She wasn’t sure where she’d planned to go. Without a car, she couldn’t exactly escape him.

“Make sure my mom gets home okay,” she said flatly once he was in front of her, once again avoiding his eyes. “I can’t… deal with her right now.”

“Dad’ll probably just bring her back to our place,” he told her. Silence settled between them, and April turned her attention toward the lake, lips pursed.

“I’ve never seen her that far gone before.” She admitted it softly, more to herself than to him, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw him shrug.

“I think she’s celebrating having you home,” he said, and his hands slid into his pocket when she glanced back at him. “I mean, you’re all she’s talked about for the last week. I’m surprised she didn’t go harder.”

“She’s not a college student,” April said with a sniff. “She doesn’t need to get drunk to show me how thrilled she is to see me.”

“Don’t be too hard on her—”