Page 5 of Taming of a Rebel


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And what a great job you did of that.

No, it wasn’t her fault. It was her parents’.

“Miranda!”

Wrinkling her nose, Miranda blinked and came back to herself. She didn’t deserve to be made a spectacle of. It wasn’t her fault that Rebel didn’t understand how to behave. It was Tierney’s and her parents.

“When are you going to be done with your date?” She hated using the word, but it was possibly the only way to get information out of Tierney.

“Oh, I don’t know. Two or three days, maybe? I think we’re going to take a drive to Mexico.”

“From Dallas?” The screech was back. She couldn’t help it. Tierney had a way of pushing every single one of her buttons.

“Yeah! We haven’t really talked specifically about what we’re doing on our date.”

Because it’s not a date. It’s a goddamned kidnapping. Miranda bit her tongue. She’d taken that tactic with Tierney before and hadn’t gotten anywhere. The girl was as headstrong as she was oblivious. “Please let me know as soon as you do. I need to rearrange my schedule at work to watch your child.” She put as much vehemence into her tone as possible, but she knew it would blow right over Tierney’s head.

“Oh, I will! But how is my baby?” Again, Tierney’s voice grated.

Miranda groaned. “Can’t you hear her screaming?”

“Sounds like she’s happy! Are you giving her McDonald’s?”

Happy? Did Tierney even know her own kid? And thanks for the nod to the fast-food joint. Though she supposed one night wouldn’t hurt, and since she hadn’t managed to get much bought at the store, it would have to do for now. Miranda took a left instead of a right, heading to the nearest McDonald’s that she knew of. They could eat it when they got home.

Home—to a place she didn’t even have a crib for this kid. Did two-year-olds even sleep in cribs? Miranda cringed. She didn’t know enough about this to do it well, and she hated that. She was always the one her family left holding everything together, wasn’t she? “T?”

“Yeah?”

Miranda gripped the gear shifter like her life depended on it. “Since it seems like Rebel is going to be with me for a few days, do you mind at least telling me where she sleeps?”

“Oh, she sleeps with me. We bed-share.”

Fuck. Miranda hadn’t wanted that to be the answer, but she’d suspected it would be. Tierney didn’t exactly have a house or apartment. She flitted from boy to boy in search of her soulmate, meaning Rebel had never actually had her own bed. The last thing Miranda wanted was to sleep with a toddler who would kick and punch her all night.

“And she still needs her bottle before bed, too.”

“Bottle?” Miranda frowned. “She’s two.”

“Yeah, but you know me, I can’t tell her no, and if it gets her to sleep, why not?”

Why not be a parent, you mean? But Miranda didn’t say it out loud. She couldn’t bring herself to get the answer because she wasn’t going to like it. Tierney would no doubt get pissed off and hang up on her before she got the rest of the information she needed to care for a child that again—wasn’t hers. She was going to have to let go of that grudge though, at least while Rebel was in her custody. She didn’t want the kid to bear the brunt of her mother’s mistakes.

“Right.” Miranda didn’t have a bottle. She would have to make do with whatever she could scrounge up because like hell would she go back into that store with Rebel. “What time does the daycare open? I know what time it closes.” Now. She hadn’t known that until they called her the first time to tell her Tierney was late and they couldn’t reach her, or their parents, and would be charging an astronomical fee of fifty dollars plus one dollar for every minute she was late. The tardiness had ended up costing her a hundred and fifty dollars, which Tierney conveniently ignored when Miranda had dropped Rebel off to where Tierney had been staying.

“Oh, I think they open at six.”

“Good.” That would at least ease Miranda’s schedule a bit, assuming Tierney was telling the truth, or had any idea of the daycare’s operating hours. She’d have to check online when she got home to confirm the details. She didn’t trust her sister to remember anything useful.

“I’ve got to go. Jason’s here!” Tierney squealed. “Wish me luck.”

“Good luck?” Miranda said as a question, but Tierney had already ended the call. Letting out a sigh, Miranda gripped her steering wheel. It was going to be a long, hellish night, that was for sure.

Once they had the fast food and were home, Miranda unloaded Rebel first. She had her on her hip before staring at the car. How was she supposed to get everything inside with a kid that would no doubt run when given the freedom? She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at the bags of stuff she’d had to buy. She had no food for a kid in her house. She had no diapers. Nothing.

Resigning herself to many trips back and forth, Miranda gripped two of the bags after popping a French fry into Rebel’s hand.

“Seems like we’re stuck with each other a bit longer,” she muttered to Rebel as she walked toward the house.

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