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“Is Wren okay?” she asked, pulling away slightly so she could look at him, her eyes welling up with tears.

“Yeah, baby. Wren's fine. She's out front with Holden.” He smoothed his hand over her hair, pushing it away from her face. “Are
you
okay?”

She nodded, and then pressed her face against his chest once again. “I got separated from everyone. Wren and Delilah. They were all pushing and shoving to get out of there and I lost my shoe. Almost fell down the stairs, but I somehow got out. It was so scary.” Her voice was muffled against his chest and he kissed her forehead, trying not to touch the scratch there. “I only just found Delilah a couple of minutes ago. I think she almost squeezed me to death when she hugged me.”

That she was trying to make a joke during a time like this was sort of unbelievable. But people did strange things when they'd had a traumatic experience. He'd seen it firsthand time and again. “You need medical attention.” West put his hands on her shoulders and pulled away so he could examine her carefully. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

She shook her head. “I'm not hurt anywhere, West, I swear. I'm fine.”

“You have a cut on your forehead.” He stepped closer, examining it. It wasn't too deep, but it was ugly and would probably hurt once the adrenaline wore off. “I can take you back to the engine and look at it myself. There are ambulances on site too if you'd rather have an EMT take care of you.”

“I'm fine.” She threw herself at him, her arms coming around his waist, her face muffled against his chest once again. “I freaked out so bad, West. When I couldn't find the girls, I didn't know what to do. I was crying, thinking that was the last time I'd ever see them.” She sniffed and he knew she was crying, which broke his hard-as-hell heart. He hadn't thought anyone could sneak past it, but somehow, Harper managed to. “Wren was so mad at me and Delilah right before it all happened. We got into a fight and we were leaving when the fire broke out.”

“Wait a minute.” He pulled her away from him again, staring into her eyes. “Why was Wren mad at you?”

Her expression instantly became guilt-ridden and she dropped her gaze. “I told her about . . . us.”

He blinked. “She knows?”

Harper had asked him during one of their earlier phone conversations not to mention they were seeing each other to anyone else in the family besides Lane and he'd respected her wishes. Even though it ate him up inside, thinking she might be . . . what? Ashamed of him?

But now here she was telling Wren the truth. Could she want more from him? Could she actually want a real relationship? Being with her now, knowing that she was safe, made what they were doing seem more serious. More real. Though it had always been real with Harper. He was never just messing around with her.

“You know I'd been keeping it from her. I figured we both had our secrets and I thought I was okay with it. But it started to eat at me. I never keep secrets from Wren. She's my best friend and I didn't want her to find out what was going on from someone else. I felt I owed her an explanation, you know? That she needed to hear the truth from me.”

“Okay,” he said slowly, wondering why it was such a big deal to him. Yeah, he had his secrets, but he'd known that if he kept seeing Harper, eventually it would've gotten out anyway. And he'd expect their friends and family to be happy for them. Or so he'd hoped.

“She's always said how much she hated it when her friends became interested in her brothers. Girls used her just to get closer to you and Lane and even Holden,” Harper explained.

He knew about it. Had dumped a couple of girls back in high school when they were dumb enough to tell him what they'd done to Wren. He would never let anyone treat his sister badly, especially a girl who was just trying to get with him. “So Wren knows about us, but she's not happy about it?”

Harper shrugged. “She didn't seem happy when I told her. Though for some reason she got even angrier at Delilah.” She winced. “I told her that Delilah had a thing for Lane too. Delilah got mad at me.”

“I doubt she's mad anymore.” West looked over to where Lane still stood with Delilah. They were all wrapped up in each other too. They even looked like a couple, though he'd bet money Lane would deny he had feelings for Delilah. He was stubborn. Hell, all the Gallaghers were. Even Wren.

“You're not mad I told your sister, are you?” Harper's face crumpled. “I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to make such a mess of this. Now I've turned it into this big deal and it's so not.”

“It's fine.” He hugged her yet again, not able to stop himself from holding on to her, though her words still stung.

It wasn't a big deal to her? Why did hearing her say those words hurt so much? Is that how she really felt? Or was she just saying that? Only moments ago he'd thought she'd been truly hurt or . . . worse. Just the idea of her in pain had devastated him.

He didn't want to let her go. Fuck all that summer fling nonsense. He knew it was good between him and Harper. He wanted something real.

But did she?

“Listen, I know my timing is for shit, but I need to get back to work,” he told her, hating the disappointment that crossed her pretty face. “Gotta check on my crew. I'm still on duty. I just—I had to make sure you were okay.”

“I'm fine. Really.” She bent her head, plucked at the front of his shirt. “I promise. I'm just glad to see you.”

“I'm really fucking glad you're alive.” He cupped her cheek, tilted her face up so her gaze met his. He skimmed his thumb across her skin, smudging the soot there. “You scared the shit out of me.”

She smiled tremulously. “I was scared too.”

He stroked her cheek again, wishing he could kiss her, but he didn't. There were people everywhere and he was, as he told her, on duty. “Come with me to the parking lot. I'll have someone check out your wound and bandage you up,” he said, taking her hand.

H
ARPER LET
W
EST
lead her back up to the parking lot of the restaurant, Delilah and Lane just behind them. Harper's nose wrinkled at the lingering smoke in the air. She was exhausted, her head hurt, and her eyes burned. But she was so incredibly glad her hand was in West's. He kept looking back at her, as if to reassure himself that she was with him, and she offered him a shy smile, wondering what could be possibly going through that mysterious brain of his.

She knew what was going through hers. Finding herself alone among the chaos, her friends nowhere in sight, she'd firmly believed something horrible had happened to Wren and Delilah.

Thank God they were all right.

And she was still shaky, her fingers trembling as West tightened his grip on them. She released a shuddery breath when West introduced her to the two EMTs who sat her down on the back end of the ambulance and started checking out her head wound. She didn't know when she got hurt, hadn't realized the cut was even there until West had pointed out.

“Luckily, you won't need stitches,” the EMT said as she probed at the skin around the cut. She'd told Harper her name was Laura. “We can clean the wound up, put a butterfly bandage on it and you'll be good as new.”

“Will it scar?” She didn't mean to sound vain, but she didn't want a big jagged scar slashed across her forehead.

“Somewhat but nothing major. The butterfly bandage should bring the skin close enough together to ensure it won't be a bad scar.” Laura smiled, her gaze warm. Kind. “You're lucky you didn't get hurt worse.”

“I don't even know how it happened.” Harper winced when Laura started to dab ointment onto the wound. “Is everyone else okay? They found everyone, right?” She really hoped they did.

“Yes, everyone's been accounted for.” Laura hesitated, studying Harper's forehead. “I heard it was crazy in there when the fire first broke out. So many people.”

“Do they know how it happened?” When the EMT didn't say anything, Harper went on. “The fire?”

“I haven't heard anything mentioned yet about the cause. I'm sure they're investigating it.”

“There you are.” Wren rushed up, her expression one of pure relief, though she was just as dirty as they rest of them, all from the soot and smoke. Harper felt that same relief wash over her, leaving her weak. She'd known Wren was safe, but it felt good to see her with her own two eyes. “Weston said they'd found you, but I had to see it for myself.”

“I'm okay,” Harper said as Wren reached out and grabbed her hand, giving it a squeeze. “The bar doesn't look so good, but I'm fine. And you? West mentioned that you were with Holden.”

“I'm okay too. It was scary though. Amazing how comforting my little brother can be when he's in job mode.” Wren released her hand and stepped back as Laura continued to work on Harper. It was only when she was done and headed back into the ambulance to put away her supplies that Wren came and sat with Harper.

Harper took a deep, trembling breath, telling herself it was now or never. She needed to apologize and make things right again with her best friend. Despite the nearby EMTs and the people who were still milling about, she had to do it now.

“I'm sorry I wasn't honest with you about West,” Harper said. “I know you're mad at me and I can understand why. I just, I didn't know what was really going on with West and me.” She hung her head, looking down at the ground. “I still don't and I didn't want to make a big deal about it. I don't think he wanted me to make a big deal either.”

“Well, now we all know so he's going to have to deal with the big deal.” When Harper lifted her head, she found Wren was smiling at her. “Harper, I don't care if you're dating my brother. I care about you and worry that he might hurt you, but I just want you happy. And I want Weston happy too. He's not the easiest person to get along with—”

“He's changed,” Harper interrupted, her heart suddenly feeling lighter. She hadn't realized how important Wren's approval was until she had it. “I really . . . care about him.” Could see herself falling in love with him too, though she couldn't admit that to Wren. She could hardly admit it to herself. What had just happened between her and West had left a funny feeling inside her chest. He'd looked at her as if she meant the world to him, but was that true? Or was it just the life-or-death situation? “We have fun together. Though really, it's still very new.”

“Just, be careful. He's not big on commitment.” They both started to laugh. That was the understatement of the year. And hadn't one of them said that right before the fire broke out? “Though he's always had a soft spot for you,” Wren added softly.

“Delilah said the same thing.” Harper's smile faded. “You're not mad at Delilah, are you? What you said to her was pretty harsh.”

Wren frowned. “I know. I need to apologize to her when this is all over. I was already mad about you seeing West and that you kept it from me. Then you hit me with the Delilah and Lane thing and I saw red. I said the first thing that came to mind and I knew it would hurt her.”

“I think it hurt her pretty bad,” Harper said quietly. “It was kind of a low blow.”

“Yeah. I'm a jerk.” Wren shook her head. “I don't know where she is right now, but West reassured me that he saw her and she's fine. I'll call her in the morning.”

Harper decided it was best not to tell Wren that Delilah was off being comforted by Lane. They'd looked pretty cozy together, but that could've just been their reaction to a near-death experience. Lane rarely let any emotions show. He'd probably slip that mask right back on as soon as he was sure that Delilah was okay.

Just like West had done once he realized that she was all right. Going back into work mode, claiming he was on duty. He was, she knew that, but she didn't like how easily he'd walked away from her.

Harper frowned. Was it that easy for him? Could he really keep this thing between them casual when she couldn't? Most likely.

And that thought was the most disturbing one of all.

I
T WAS JUST
after eight in the morning when Lane stopped by the station to deliver the news.

“It was arson,” Lane said grimly after he pulled West outside, away from the prying eyes and curious ears of his crew. Everyone else was in the kitchen, cleaning up after breakfast. Tate's engine had arrived late last night, everyone tired and dirty but relieved to be back on home turf. His crew was released and all went home, though Tate had stayed the night. He was in the garage now, checking over his engine like it was his precious baby.

Talk about a workaholic. He was worse than West, and that was saying something.

“No surprise.” West had fully expected to hear this. There was no other explanation for what had happened upstairs at the Wildwood BBQ & Bar last night. Before the crews finished mopping up and the prevention team came by, West had already had his suspicions, along with everyone else. He'd heard the bartender's explanation and listened to a few witnesses explain what they saw.

More like what they
didn't
see.

From what West could figure, it had been a premeditated fire. But why? To hurt innocent people? Or just burn down a building? Was this some sort of statement? The damage could've been so much worse. Whoever had done this was lucky he or she wasn't facing murder charges.

“Was it linked to the other fires?” West asked.

Lane shrugged. “Not sure yet.”

“Are we going to make this public?”

“We'll probably be forced to. There are already too many people curious to know what started this fire in the first place,” Lane explained.

West would rather have the townspeople aware of what was going on than keep them in the dark. Going public with the news would be a great way to gather more information too. Someone might've seen something. “Should we get Tate into this discussion? He's in the garage checking over his engine.”

“Yeah, we better tell him.” Lane started to head over to the garage, but West stopped him with a hand on the shoulder, causing Lane to look back at him.

“I know now is probably not the right time, but can I ask you a personal question first?” When Lane nodded, West continued. “Tell me what's going on with you and Delilah.”

Lane's expression shuttered, his gaze wary. He shrugged off West's hand. “Nothing at all. She's a friend. That's it.”

“Bullshit. She's into you.” There was no reason to play games or be vague. West may as well lay it all out on the line. “She likes you. I know she does. But you keep pushing her away.”

“I'm not interested in Delilah. Not like that.” Lane looked away, a muscle working in his jaw. A telltale sign that he was irritated. “We'd never work out anyway so what's the point?”

West frowned. “Why would you say that? If you like her and she likes you, I don't see how the two of you spending time together would be a problem.”

“It's not that easy. We're totally different.” Lane hesitated. “We want different things.”

“What do you want anyway, Lane? To come home to an empty house every night and make a boring meal for one before you recline in your chair with a beer in your hand watching shitty reality TV? That sounds fucking awful if you ask me.” West shook his head.

“Well, you should know, considering that's probably what you do every night when you're not working. Am I right?” The look Lane sent him was pointed.

Damn it, yeah he was. Though he wasn't a huge fan of reality TV. “Okay, you got me. But I'm seriously starting to think I don't want that life anymore.” It was too damn lonely, not that he would admit that to his coldhearted big brother.

After what happened last night, when he thought he lost Harper, he couldn't stop thinking about her. Lost sleep over her, tossing and turning all night once he finally slipped into bed. He'd been so damn tempted to call her first thing this morning but then thought it better to let her rest and recover.

Besides, what could he do? He was still stuck at the station. He felt fucking helpless.

Lane raised his brows. “Really? You better make sure you mean that before you go spouting off to Harper that you're all in or whatever other bullshit you're going to feed her. You don't want to break her heart, do you?”

West was taken aback at Lane's words. “I won't break her heart.” Then he thought of what she'd said last night, how they were just having fun. Messing around. That it wasn't anything serious, what they were doing. “She just got out of a relationship. I won't be the heartbreaker, Roger already did that.”

“Actually,
she
dumped Roger. Though he agreed pretty readily that their relationship wasn't working.” Well, well, well, look at his brother, the gossipmonger. Who knew Lane had it in him? “Don't forget that. And she's had a thing for you for
years
. Back when she was nothing but a kid with a harmless crush. Well, I'm guessing what she feels for you now is a lot more than that. I'd bet money that you could snap her heart clean in half if you said or did the wrong thing. Trust me on this, little brother.” Lane patted his shoulder. “Be careful with that girl. She's delicate. And she's totally into you.”

West had nothing to say to his brother's speech. He only nodded as they walked over to the garage side by side. They spoke to Tate, and Lane ran through the grim details of what the fire investigation had turned up so far. Tate had plenty to say about it, most of his comments heavily peppered with expletives, but West remained silent. He was too distracted, mulling over what Lane had said about Harper.

Was she really too delicate? Did he have the power to break her heart? Ever since they started in on this . . . relationship, this seeing-each-other type thing, he'd felt like
she
was the dangerous one. How comfortable he felt with her, her easygoing personality. With her sweet smiles and soft sighs, those pretty, delicious lips and that luscious body. The way she'd murmured his name just before he entered her . . .

Yeah. She could strike pure terror in the most calloused of hearts, and his was one of the hardest. She made him want to feel. Worse, she made him want more. More time with Harper, more of those conversations they shared, those sweet smiles and soft sighs, her delicious lips and her luscious body. He liked the way she looked at him, like he was in on their private joke and they were the only ones who knew the punch line . . .

But the thing that terrified him the most? That they might not be on the same page after all. Did they want the same things? What the hell did he really want anyway? Was he thinking too fast, getting too ahead of himself?

Probably.

Being honest with Harper, laying everything out on the line, should be his next move. He wanted to be open. He wanted to tell her the truth, to tell her what he wanted. But that would be pretty damn tough, especially when he wasn't exactly sure what he wanted himself.

He knew one thing though. What had happened last night, the close call with Harper, how he'd thought at one point that he could possibly lose her . . . it had made him realize that she needed to know how he
really
felt about her. And he needed to tell her.

As soon as he possibly could.

H
ARPER ACHED EVERYWHERE
. She hadn't bothered going in to work at the diner, hadn't bothered getting out of bed. Once she got home last night, her grandma had taken care of her, fed her chicken soup in bed after she'd taken a shower and washed off all the dirt and grime.

She'd slept in, then taken another hot shower to ease the tenderness in her sore muscles, careful not to get the bandage on her forehead wet. She'd fixed herself a bagel with cream cheese and then crawled back into bed when she discovered she could barely keep her eyes open. Played around on her phone for a little while, texted Wren and Delilah, checking in on them, before falling back asleep.

It wasn't until her grandma came home in the early evening that she woke up again.

“Lazy bones,” her grandma chastised as she entered the bedroom and flicked on the overhead light. Harper blinked, threw her arm over her eyes to block the brightness. “Are you not well? Do you need to see a doctor?”

“I'm fine. Just tired,” Harper grumbled. “Turn off the light, please.”

“Hmm.” Grandma did as she asked then bustled into the room and pulled the blinds open instead, letting in the waning sunlight. “Tell me the truth, young lady. Is your head okay? Are you traumatized by what happened to you yesterday? Do you need counseling? I could arrange it, you know.”

Leave it to her grandma to be blunt. “No, I'm all right. Really. I'm just . . . ” She didn't know what she was. Tired and achy, yes, that was legitimate. Scared of the unknown because she hadn't heard from West all day . . . ?

There was that too.

Wren and Delilah, she was good with. They'd said their apologies and were back to normal. It wouldn't be weird between them because they'd known each other far too long to let it get weird. But West?

They'd seen each other briefly before she left with the girls. He'd hugged her, kissed her cheek, and whispered that he'd contact her tomorrow. Well, tomorrow was almost gone with no word from West. She knew he was busy. He was working and hadn't been off duty for days. The man was exhausted and most likely had more important things to do.

It still hurt though, that she hadn't heard from him. She'd sent him a quick text but no reply so far. She didn't know what to think anymore. Did she matter? Would she ever matter? Wasn't she worth a two-word text? Even a one-word text would've sufficed. At least that would've shown that he was thinking about her.

But he couldn't even manage that and it hurt. The man turned her into a thousand neuroses, all of them rising to the surface and making her an agitated, dysfunctional mess. When it came to Weston Gallagher, she cared too damn much.

That could totally end up biting her in the butt.

“You're just what?” her grandma asked, interrupting her panic-induced thoughts.

“I'm just . . . ” Harper shrugged. “Quietly freaking out over my life choices?”

“Oh dear.” Grandma settled heavily on the edge of the mattress, wearing a frown of concern. “What exactly are you talking about?”

Taking a deep breath, Harper decided to just go for it. She unloaded completely on her grandmother, from her worry over breaking up with Roger to seeing West a few times—though she left out the sex details—to her fear that she was working a nowhere job—
no offense, Grandma
—and she felt like she was making one major mistake after the next.

“See, that's the beauty of it all,” Grandma said when she finally stopped rambling. “You're young. You're allowed to make mistakes. They're a part of life.”

“But I'm twenty-six,” Harper reminded her. “Aren't I too old for this sort of thing?” She worried that she was. Her mom and dad had been married by the time they were twenty-six. And Harper had been on the marriage track with Roger . . . until she wasn't. Now she had a sometimes-boyfriend who kissed like a dream but was a total commitment-phobe.

“You're never too old to make a mistake. Trust me.” Grandma laughed and shook her head. “I still make mistakes all the time.”

“You do?” Harper could hardly believe it. She knew it was silly, but her grandma had always been pretty much perfect in her eyes.

“Oh yes, constantly. I date the wrong sort of men. I've made a mess of my business filing and organization and now my granddaughter has to work extra hard to set me straight.”

Harper smiled a little at that.

“I worry about the diner. Should I sell it? Should I keep it open? Is it worth the hassle? I worry about money. Do I have enough? I worry about my friends. I get mad when that old broad Martha Burlingame makes those snide remarks and tries to tear me down. I despise that woman.” She shook her head. “I still miss your grandpa, though I don't like to say that out loud. My son—your father—makes me crazy, but I know he means well. Yes, I make mistakes, but I'm a grown woman, a human being, and I'm allowed. Just like you, dear.”

Harper nodded, dropping her gaze to the comforter. She plucked at an imaginary string, taking in what her grandma said. “I feel like I should have it all together.”

“No one has it all together. Not really. Just because they act perfect or have the perfect job or the perfect-looking boyfriend or husband or whatever, no one is perfect. We're all struggling, all trying to live our lives as best we can. Just make sure you're having fun, because if we're not having any fun, then what's the point?” Grandma smiled. “Now. That nice boy you've been seeing is coming over tonight. I saw him earlier at the diner and told him to come pick you up and take you out.”

“Wait, what?” Harper sat up straighter in bed, running her hand over her tangled hair. “Who are you talking about?” She knew exactly who Grandma was talking about, but she needed to hear her say his name.

“Why, Weston Gallagher of course. He came by earlier this morning for a second breakfast after they released him at the station. Was hoping he'd see you, but I told him you were home resting.”

He came by the BFD to
see
her? Never before had Harper been tempted to hit her grandma. Until now. “You told him that?” she squeaked. Her grandma should've called her immediately to let her know West stopped by.

“Well, yes. Every girl needs her beauty sleep before she goes on a date with her handsome boyfriend. And that Weston is drop-dead gorgeous, dear, especially in that uniform he wears. You sure know how to pick 'em.” Grandma fanned herself with her hand.

Harper burst out laughing. “He is pretty cute, huh?” Oh, he was so cute. And sweet. And sexy. And funny.

She could go on and on.

“That's putting it mildly. Now. Go. Get ready. He'll be here in an hour.”