Forbidden Fling (Wildwood Book 1) (16 page)

He wished he could have afforded one of these historical buildings to house his brewpub, but land was far more affordable. It also allowed him to start small and expand without going too deep into debt. The thought of offering to buy The Bad Seed from Delaney had crossed Ethan’s mind several times. It would be an easy way to gain prime real estate and a liquor license at the same time. But he also knew that doing that would have been considered the worst kind of betrayal to his family.

And, as Caleb had said, going up against Jack wasn’t the best way to ensure success with a new business in town. If there was one thing he’d need with this business—it was success. Pops was counting on it. Besides, that building was going to be a cavernous money pit. He was sure she’d see that in time.

Ethan got out of his truck and waited for two women pushing baby strollers to pass before he crossed the sidewalk and started up the old wooden steps to Wildly Artesian’s double front doors.

A bell jingled as he entered, and the scent of peaches and lavender filled the air. Phoebe looked up from the front counter where she had paperwork spread out across the glass.

“Well, Mr. Hayes.” Her smile was at half-mast, which caused Ethan a pang of unease.

“Hi, Phoebe. How are you?”

She leaned her forearms on the glass and met his gaze directly. “I’d be better if you weren’t sleeping with Delaney.”

Her statement hit him like a brick. His smile vanished, and he glanced around to see who else might have heard, relieved no one was within earshot. Then he rolled back on his heels and shoved his hands into his front pockets. “Your candidness is always so . . . refreshing.”

“I doubt it.” She set down her pen and clasped her hands.

A middle-aged woman strolled from one section of the building to another, passing through the lobby, and Phoebe held whatever she had to say until the shopper had moved out of range.

Still she kept her voice low. “You know I like you, Ethan. Despite your father’s and uncle’s overshadowing presence in town, you’ve carved your own path. It’s clear that you’re your own man, not your father’s son, if you know what I mean.”

“I do, and thank you. Though I feel a
but
coming.”

“But,” she said with a grin that lasted only a second, “your little anonymous rendezvous with Delaney has me wondering if there’s another side to you.”

What in the hell did he say to that? “I really like Delaney, Phoebe. And as you’ve said, I’m not my father. Not everyone sees that, and I wanted Delaney to form her own opinions.”

“I’m disappointed in the way you went about it. Still, what’s done is done. But that doesn’t mean mistakes need to be repeated.”

All the air left his lungs in one heavy breath. A gnawing pain aggravated his gut. This woman’s disappointment hurt more than his mother’s. “I don’t see my time with Delaney as a mis—”

“Your family has done enough damage to my girls, especially Delaney. Don’t think I’ll stand by and let it happen again. I may not be your daddy, but I have a lot of deep, loyal friends here and elsewhere that I will call on if necessary.”

“I don’t want to hurt Delaney,” he said deliberately.

“Good. Hold to that goal, and we’ll keep the drama at bay.” She straightened, her voice light, her smile refreshed. Clearly that conversation was over. “What brought you in today, Ethan? Looking for a gift for your mama?”

Ethan glanced around the huge space, now even more out of sorts than when he’d walked in. Talking about Delaney only made him want to see her. “No, but my mom’s the reason I’m here.”

After he explained his mother’s request, Phoebe chuckled. “I think your mama’s dabbling in her notorious matchmaking again. Bunny hasn’t been here in a week. She’s out with a sinus infection. And if Colleen needed help, she would have come to me, or asked her daughter”—she gave Ethan a pointed look—“since
Misty
is
with
her.”

Ethan rolled his eyes to the ceiling, then let them slide closed and rubbed them. Two emotions collided in Ethan’s chest—humor and irritation. On one hand, his mother’s matchmaking skills were so lousy they were funny. On the other, it was hard to find anything that involved his family and all their manipulation funny today.

“You may be wrong about me and Delaney,” he said, “but you’re right about my mother.”

He glanced at the door, calculating which would be more trouble—making excuses to his mother about why he didn’t stay and help, or enduring Misty’s wandering eyes and propositions.

“I’m not wrong. You just don’t want to admit I’m right. Observation, Ethan. Everything you want to know is there if you look for it. All you have to do is really watch people. Humans are creatures of habit, patterns are developed for a reason, and character is built over time. People don’t change overnight.

“That’s how I knew about you and Delaney. I read you both well. Which is why I’m disappointed in your behavior—not because you slept with Delaney, not even because you didn’t tell her who you were, but
why
you didn’t. That is the crack in your character concerning me.”

Ethan’s irritation flared. “Everyone has character flaws, Phoebe. I never claimed to be perfect.”

“But not all flaws cause pain. We both know the minute your daddy or your uncle catch you looking Delaney’s way, there will be hell to pay. And family has been the bane of her existence, yours and her own. I’m trying to retie some of those connections for her so that when I’m gone, she’s not left floating in this big world alone. So if you really care about her—beyond the bedroom—let the girl be. Let her heal the way she needs to so she can move on.”

A mix of anger and sadness tangled inside him. “I plan to do what I can to keep my family from interfering in her life. And I’m also doing my best to leave her alone, because she’s as concerned about the problems that would come of us being seen together as you are. But I really do like her, and whether she’s willing to admit it or not, she really likes me, too. And for what it’s worth, I think Delaney needs more than healing. I think she needs a few wins in her life right now, too. Especially in this town and where that bar is concerned, which is why I know renovating it would be a big mistake.”

Phoebe’s eyes narrowed, and she studied him a long, tense moment. “I do love that steel streak of yours, Ethan. It reminds me so much of Delaney’s. She is your equal—or better. Remember that when trouble comes knocking. Her foundation won’t be swayed by a handsome smile or a flash of charm. She’s not just the kind of woman who weathers storms; she weathers hurricanes, and she’s learned a little about the best way to do that over the years. Don’t underestimate her.” Phoebe straightened and collected her papers. “Colleen’s space is in the southwest corner. I don’t think she needs help anymore seeing as
Delaney’s
in there now, but I suppose that’s not going to keep you from going back there, is it?”

Ethan’s body flicked on like a light. The strange sensation of fluttering wings brushed his chest. “No, ma’am.”

“Didn’t think so.”

Phoebe turned for the office door behind the counter, and Ethan started toward the southwest corner of the building. He might be relieved to be walking away from that awkward situation, but he had mixed feelings over the one he was headed toward. Far too much excitement bubbled through his body over the prospect of seeing Delaney again after he’d been reaffirming his decision to stay away from her no more than fifteen minutes before.

He glanced in the various spaces as he walked through the four-thousand-square-foot main level. Each area was rented out to different artists, where they designed, decorated, and stocked their own handmade crafts. Even in the middle of the week, well past tourist season, dozens of shoppers strolled through the beautifully restored building.

As he passed gorgeous watercolors, intricate oil paintings, stunning pottery, jewelry, soaps, candles, dolls, bath bubbles, puzzles—the variety of fine arts and handmade crafts was endless—he struggled with emotions he hadn’t felt in decades. Conflicting emotions he had no outlet for and no idea what to do with.

As he neared Colleen’s corner space, he heard Delaney’s smooth, feminine voice. “Is this a good height?”

“Maybe a little to the left?” an older woman answered.

As he listened to her back-and-forth with Colleen over placement, Ethan sighed, remembering her voice in bed that night. Sultry in his ear. Teasing and laughing. Whispering. Begging.

He let his eyes fall closed and soaked in the comfort her voice brought without judgment. The last week without Delaney felt like it took a month to pass. The only good part about that week was that she hadn’t shown up on his schedule.

“A little higher, I think,” Colleen said.

He forced himself to take the last few steps to the space’s doorway and glanced around one of the walls, where he found hand-painted knickknacks for the home. Mailboxes with sparrows, cutting boards with cows and pigs, benches with morning glories.

And a ladder against one wall.

He scanned upward and found the woman he’d been craving for days standing on the fifth rung. His gaze floated over her from the toes up, and he drank in her cute little feet in rhinestone-encrusted flip-flops; the long, smooth, curvy length of gorgeous, bare tanned legs; her tight ass covered in denim cutoffs; and her slim torso hidden behind a heather-blue fitted tee. All in all, an ordinary, no frills, nothing-to-write-home-about outfit. Yet the way her body filled the clothes made Ethan’s mouth water and his heart beat faster.

Her hair was in one long braid down the middle of her back. She held a birdhouse with lilies painted on three sides above several other birdhouses.

“Or would you rather have them offset, like this?” she asked, moving the birdhouse a little to the right.

Misty was sitting on one of her mother’s pieces scrolling on her phone. The wooden rocking chair beneath her had been painted with an incredible sunset over the ocean that covered the back and spilled over the arms.

Misty glanced toward him as he stepped into the space, and her face lit up. “Well, hey, Ethan. Haven’t seen you around in a while.”

“Hi, Misty.”

She was a very pretty brunette with big dark-brown eyes. Tall and girl-next-door fresh, she’d cut her long hair into a sleek, sexy bob when her fiancé had broken off their engagement to pursue his affair with a cougar he’d been seeing on the side in Sundance, the town next door. They’d only been broken up a couple of months, but Misty had been on a serious manhunt ever since. And for a reason Ethan didn’t care to understand, she had her scope zeroed in on him.

“You look great.” She surveyed him, her eyes sultry and approving as she stuffed her phone into her back pocket and gave him her full attention. “I hear you’re working a lot.”

“I am.” He offered Colleen a smile. “In fact I’m on my way to an appointment, but my mom called and asked me to stop by to give you a hand.” He lifted his gaze to meet Delaney’s. She wore a little smirk, as if she already knew exactly why Ethan had been summoned and found it amusing. “Phoebe told me you’d found some help, but I wanted to make sure.”

“How sweet of you,” Misty said.

Colleen gushed over Ethan taking time out of his day to come by, but he didn’t look away from Delaney. And she never looked away from him.

“Have you heard about Drew’s grand opening party for Black Jack’s?” Misty asked.

Ethan forced his gaze from Delaney’s and focused on Misty. She had her legs crossed, one foot swinging. She was also dressed for the warm weather, something he only noticed as an afterthought even though she could be considered just as physically beautiful as Delaney.

With her elbow on the arm of the chair, her chin in her hand, and those eyes staring up at Ethan, he realized he knew two dozen guys in town who’d shove him off a cliff to take his place right now. Yet it was all he could do not to look back at Delaney.

“Saturday night,” Misty said. “Everyone’s going.”

“I’ve heard.” He pushed his hands into his pockets. “I’m supplying the beer.”

Misty laughed, the sound low and sexy. “Oh, boy, you do get around, don’t you? Why don’t we go together? Just swing by and pick me up around seven thirty.”

He could see how easily men could get swept away by her smooth, take-charge ways. She’d just set her sights on the wrong man. “Thanks, but my work schedule has been—”

Bang, bang, bang interrupted him as Delaney pounded a nail into the wall in an obnoxious attempt to interrupt. Now Ethan was officially amused, too.

He waited until the banging stopped. “I’m sure I’ll see you there.”

Misty had been propositioning him from the first week of her split with the ex, and she was a perfect example of why he didn’t date women in Wildwood—complications, rumors, ties, and manipulation.

Mrs. Woodly, a lively seventysomething-year-old, appeared in the opening to the space. “Hi there, Ethan. Sorry to interrupt. Colleen, do you mind watching the store while I run to the ladies’?”

“Of course not.”

As Colleen wandered away, Misty’s phone pinged, and she pulled it from her back pocket. Her eyes lit up, and she stuffed it away again, already pushing from the chair. “Cody Stoker joined the crowd at Scrub-a-Pup,” she said, starting toward the door. “Since Ethan’s not going to take me to the party, I’ll take my chances elsewhere. See you across the street, Delaney.”

Ethan chuckled at how quickly the woman jumped at another opportunity. That was another reason he didn’t do ties—women were entirely too fickle for his taste.

“Okay . . .” Delaney said, then trailed off when she turned and found Misty gone, disappeared into the maze of spaces that made up the floor. “Sure,” she pretended to call, as if someone was listening. “No problem. Just here working in a space that’s not mine for people who aren’t even here.”

She sighed. Her shoulders slumped. And she met Ethan’s gaze with an annoyed, what-can-you-do expression.

“Yeah. I get that a lot, too.”

Her mouth lifted into a grin. Then she looked away and positioned another nail. “You’re free to go, Inspector Hayes. I can handle a few birdhouses. I promise.”