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“Y
OU
'
RE SO HAPPY
you're glowing.” Delilah made a face and shook her head, her nose wrinkling. “It's kind of disgusting.”

“Oh stop, Delilah. You're just jealous,” Wren added, nudging Delilah with her elbow before she flashed a smile in Harper's direction. “I can admit that I'm a teeny bit jealous too, but we're happy for you and West. Really.”

“She's right. We are,” Delilah added softly.

They were at the Bigfoot Diner, eating lunch. Harper's grandma was their server and she brought out the biggest burgers the three women had ever seen, along with a red plastic basket heaped with French fries. She'd informed them, “Eat. You girls are too skinny,” and then scooted back to the kitchen.

So they did.

Harper couldn't help but beam like a crazy woman at her friends. She was deliriously happy. The man of her dreams had become the man of her reality. They'd been serious for only a month, if that. They were on the accelerated plan—West had called it a few weeks ago, wearing that sexy, panty-melting grin of his.

Dipping her head, Harper smiled to herself. Yes, every time West flashed her that knowing smile, her panties melted. Her heart melted, her resolve melted . . . he knew just how to affect her. Giving her the right look, touching her in the right way, whispering the right words . . .

A shiver moved down her spine just thinking about him.

“Uh-oh, she's in a West-induced stupor again,” Wren said, her tone teasing. “Seems to be happening a lot lately.”

Harper lifted her head, laughing. “I can't help it if I'm happy.”

Delilah took a sip from her soda. “We love that you're happy. I don't remember you smiling this much when you were with Roger.”

Her smile faded. She still felt a little guilty about Roger, for how quickly she'd broken it off with him and ended up with West. He was always polite when she ran into him around town, which was often. She'd heard a few rumors that he'd gone on some dates, though they didn't seem to be anything serious. He didn't seem to be pining away for her, which was a huge relief . . .

“How's it going here?” Wren asked, her question knocking Harper out of her thoughts. “Still deeply entrenched in the training program?”

Harper rolled her eyes, grabbing a fry and popping it into her mouth. The salty goodness was almost too much. Funny how she spent so much time at the BFD yet never grew tired of the delicious food. “Grandma loves to boss me around like I'm in the military when I'm here, but we both know she's a big old softy.”

A softy who was becoming increasingly dependent on her granddaughter to eventually run the business side of the diner. Harper had cleaned out the office by the end of her self-imposed two-week deadline. She'd then proceeded to reorganize everything and, with her grandma's permission, bought a new computer along with the best accounting software she could find.

She'd taken over the financial records, the accounts payable and receivable . . . all of it.

“You're going to be running this place one day,” Delilah said as she glanced around the busy diner. “Do you think she's going to retire soon?”

“Doubtful.” Harper's grandma loved the BFD too much to retire—yet.

“I never talk to my brother anymore so I have to find out everything through you.” Wren lowered her voice. “Tell us what's up with the fire situation.”

The low grumbles among the townspeople were getting louder, and Cal Fire had recently released official information—there was definitely an arsonist in their area. The biggest damage so far had been to the restaurant, but other fires had been started since then, all of them vegetation fires that hadn't burned much beyond a few acres. An investigative team was called in and Lane, along with the rest of the sheriff's department, was working with them in tandem. West had mentioned a few details to her, but he was pretty mum about the entire subject.

Harper understood. Some things he couldn't really discuss. Besides, when they were together, they didn't really talk about work . . .

“I don't know much,” Harper offered with a little shrug. “They're all on the job.”

“Lane isn't saying much either,” Wren said, making Delilah laugh.

“When does Lane ever say much?” she asked sarcastically.

True that.

“So when are you two crazy kids going to move in together?” Wren asked Harper, changing the subject.

Harper's mouth dropped open. Was Wren a mind reader or what? “We were just discussing that a few nights ago,” she admitted softly.

They'd been tangled up in bed, the sheet kicked off onto the floor, Harper half draped across West's limp-with-pleasure body. He'd skimmed his fingers down her back, given her a light smack on her butt, and murmured, “You should move in with me.”

She'd protested, made all the right noises because
come on
. They couldn't live together so fast. But West wouldn't take no for an answer. And now she was trying to work up the courage to tell her family that she was moving in with her new boyfriend so quickly after moving out of her old boyfriend's house.

Yeah. The gossipmongers of Wildwood were going to have a field day with this one. But maybe it wouldn't be so awful. West was the beloved bad boy who was now doing good. And Harper had always been Wildwood's good girl—who'd suddenly gone a little bad.

And being bad with West had never felt so good.

“So you're moving in with him?” Delilah asked, her eyebrows rising. “That's so great!”

“Shh, we haven't officially confirmed it yet,” Harper said, hoping no one was paying any attention to the three of them. “But yes, it's going to happen. Soon.”

Both Wren and Delilah looked like they were bouncing in their seats. It was sort of ridiculous. And silly—silly enough that Harper couldn't help but burst out laughing. She'd never felt so loved before. By her friends, her family.

By West.

The front door of the BFD swung open and in walked a Cal Fire crew, West taking up the rear. His hair was a little wild—it was time for a haircut—and there was a dark smudge on his cheek from God knew what. But wow, did he look good in his uniform, that beloved easy smile on his face as he nodded at the waitress who began to lead the fire crew to a table.

He scanned the room, looking for Harper, of that she was sure, and she lifted her hand in an acknowledging wave, her heart swelling near to bursting at seeing him. He said something to the rest of his crew and made his way to Harper's table, smiling at all three women when he stopped in front of their table.

“Ladies.” He nodded at Delilah and Wren before his head swiveled in her direction, that knowing smile that got her every single time curling his perfect lips. “Harper.”

“What are you doing here?” She sounded breathless. Could feel her friends watching her like she was put on this earth to amuse them, but damn it, she couldn't help herself. Her boyfriend made her feel fluttery inside each time he looked at her.

“We just finished up a call and we're starving. Thought we'd stop at the BFD.” He gave her a look, one that said
I've seen you naked
.

Harper blushed. “It's good to see you,” she murmured, making his smile grow.

They didn't say anything, just smiled at each other until finally Delilah made an irritated noise.

“You two need to get a room,” she muttered.

“Ew, that's my brother you're talking about,” Wren practically squealed.

Ignoring them both, West's gaze never left Harper's. “Come with me,” he said, his voice low.

Without hesitation Harper slid out of the booth and followed him to the back of the diner, where he opened the supply closet door and pulled her inside. The moment the door shut, he had his hands on her, his mouth fused with hers. It was so dark that she kicked the mop bucket when she took a step back, making them both laugh softly when the mop handle clattered to the floor.

“We need to stop meeting like this,” he whispered, his mouth hot as he kissed her neck, making her shiver.

“You're the one who always wants to have a rendezvous in the supply closet when you stop by,” she reminded him, sighing when he nibbled on her ear.

“I never hear you protest.” He lifted his head and she knew he was watching her, even though he couldn't see much since it was so dark. “I've missed you.”

“You're off shift tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” He pulled her in for a hug, holding her close. “But I don't like being away from you.”

This coming from the man who loved his job. His confession made her feel warm and fuzzy inside. “Hasn't any of your crew figured out what you're doing when you keep stopping by the BFD?”

“They've got me all figured out. Not like we're hiding it.” He slipped his hand beneath her chin and tilted her face up, his mouth mere inches from her. “They know I can't get enough of you.”

Before she could answer him, West kissed her breathless, his lips, his tongue, his hands busy. Long, kiss-filled minutes later, she finally pulled away from him, running a hand over her hair, smoothing her shirt back into place. “We should go back out.”

He huffed out a frustrated breath. “You're right.”

“You need to order lunch.”

“They know what I want.”

“You should make sure they're okay.”

“They're fine.” His hands were back on her again, slipping beneath the hem of her T-shirt and touching her bare skin.

“What if you get another call?” She sounded breathless again. How did he do this to her every time he kissed her?

“I have the radio attached to my belt, babe.” He went in for another kiss, but she stopped him, her hands braced on his chest. “You worry too much.”

“You're right,” she whispered against his lips as she slid her hands up over his shoulders. “I do.”

“Stop worrying and kiss me.”

Harper did as he requested.

No questions asked.

I
HAVE TO
acknowledge my grandma when it comes to this book. No, she doesn't own a restaurant called the Bigfoot Diner (though that would be awesome), but she is pretty cool and very independent. My grandpa died when I was fourteen. My grandparents lived out in the country far from any town, and my grandma couldn't drive. She was so dependent on my grandpa for everything. But after he died, she realized she needed to get busy learning how to drive so my stepdad taught her. She bought a tiny Honda Civic and I remember driving around with her—I was probably fifteen?—and another car cut her off. She flipped him the bird and called him a dirty word. I was
shocked
. This was my grandma! A sweet little old lady who never cursed and definitely never pointed her middle finger at anyone!

But now I realize as I've grown older that hey, my grandma was pretty young when her husband died—in her early fifties. And once enough mourning time had passed, the vultures started circling. Meaning, the old men in the senior community in her small town, the widowers and divorced guys, who were looking for a new mate in their golden years. One of them was named . . .

Buster Boner.

I kid you not! When my grandma told me his name, I couldn't stop laughing. I went with her to a friend's house one summer and actually met him. He was very old and very interested in my grandma. He called her out of the blue one day and told her, “Grace, I have seventy thousand dollars in the bank and two tickets to Hawaii. Are you with me?” She said no. I asked her why (I mean, I met him and could see why she said no, but hey! That's some decent money and Hawaii!) and she said, “He's nothing but an old coot.” He eventually found someone else to take to Hawaii. I vaguely remember an article in her local newspaper that claimed Buster Boner was missing! His children hadn't heard from him in days and it turned out he'd gone out of town with a lady friend (that's what my grandma called her). Guess he found someone to spend all his money with after all.

Buster Boner is long gone, but his name lives on. I told my grandma a few days ago that I wrote him into this story, and the first words out of her mouth were, “Oh, that old coot? I haven't thought of him in forever!” She still calls him that. She cracks me up. I love my grandma. She also said I just forever immortalized Buster Boner and I told her how could I forget a name like that? Real life is definitely stranger than fiction.

I also have to mention my husband because he's the one who came up with the Bigfoot Diner idea and told me I could call it the BFD. In a mountain town near us there used to be a Bigfoot-themed restaurant and as a kid, he loved going to that place. Though his idea was really his opening up an actual restaurant like that. I squashed that plan and told him I'd create a fictional restaurant instead. So the BFD is for him.

 

 

Want more from the boys of Wildwood?
Keep reading for a sneak peek from

SMOLDER

Coming Summer 2016 from Avon Impulse.

D
ELILAH MADE HER
way down the hall before she turned to glare at Lane, her eyes glowing in the dim light. “I swear to God, you're the most ignorant person I've ever met in my life. Do you do that on purpose or what?”

“Do I do what on purpose?” He scratched at the center of his chest, hating how his heart still beat erratically. So hard it felt like it was going to bust right through his ribcage.

They stared at each other for a long, quiet moment. He could hear the muffled voices coming from outside, the kitchen door slamming. Most likely it was Wren making her way to the backyard. He hoped like hell she wouldn't spread rumors about what she just saw.

Knowing his sister, she'd probably tell Harper. And West. And anyone else with ears who could hear her talk. She had a big enough mouth.

“You make me insane,” Delilah finally said, her voice . . . sad? Well, hell, he didn't expect that. Irritation, yes. That was the name of their game. But upsetting her? Making her sad? Making her look so damn . . . hopeless?

He didn't like that. At all. But what could he say? What could he do to make it better? He was an expert at his job. Could handle any tough situation thrown at him. But when it came to women—this particular woman—he was as clueless as a newborn baby.

“Figures you'd have no reply,” she muttered. With a roll of her eyes and a flick of her ponytail, she started to walk away but he caught up with her in three long strides, grasping hold of her slender arm so she couldn't escape. She glanced over her shoulder at him, those big brown eyes wide and full of so many questions. Questions he wasn't prepared to answer.

“I'm sorry,” he murmured, his voice low, his stomach doing weird flip-flops when her gaze dropped to his mouth and seemed to linger there. The electric buzz was still there, sizzling between them, pinging between their bodies, and he felt as if every hair on his body was standing on end.

“You say that a lot, you know.” She sighed and carefully disentangled her arm from his hold. He immediately missed touching her. “It doesn't have to be this difficult.”

She was right. He fought the attraction they had for each other constantly. “I don't know if you understand what exactly I'm struggling with . . . ”

“I think you struggle with the same thing I do, you're just not brave enough to go for it.” She stared him down but he refused to flinch. Delilah basically just called him a coward. And that hurt. “I don't know much more obvious I need to be.”

“Dee—” he started, but she reached toward him, her fingers settling on his parted lips, that tiny, seemingly innocent touch searing him to his very soul. But there was nothing innocent about Delilah. Not when it came to the two of them together. She knew just how her touch affected him. And he knew he had the same effect on her.

She lifted her gaze to his once more. “You know we want each other.”

His entire body went stiff. Especially his dick.

“You know I'll do whatever you want, whenever you want,” she continued. “Wherever you want me,” she murmured, her voice full of so much fucking promise his mouth went dry as every dirty word and thought seemed to clog his throat. Never had she talked to him like this before.

“You don't know what you're saying,” he practically choked out. She couldn't know what her words did to him. If she kept this up she'd tear down every one of his defenses and he'd finally give in.

He frowned. That didn't sound like a bad idea.

“I know exactly what I'm saying.” She licked her lips, her lids growing heavy, reminding him of some sultry seductress you only saw in the movies or on television. “The ball is in your court. Your move, Lane.”

And with that she left, leaving behind a cloud of her intoxicating perfume.