Forbidden Fling (Wildwood Book 1) (29 page)

Her head bowed again, her body softened, and a breath stuttered past her lips.

“You just needed to hear it from me.” He lifted a hand and stroked her hair.

Delaney pressed her face into his chest. “Asshole shouldn’t have a badge,” she muttered, slowly unwinding from the coiled state she’d come in. “Should
never
be allowed to carry a gun.”

With her posture easing, Ethan was able to cocoon her in his arms. He pressed his face to her hair, closed his eyes, and breathed her in. Then sighed. “I’ve missed you.”

She exhaled and leaned into him. “This situation is so messed up.”

“It is, and it wears me out. Come sit with me.”

He uncurled long enough to guide her to the sofa in the unit by way of the front door, which he locked before sinking onto the velour and pulling her onto his lap.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pressed her face to his neck. “I shouldn’t stay.”

He pressed a kiss to her head and smoothed her hair off her face. He didn’t agree or disagree. He just soaked in the feel of her weight against him, her warmth, her sexy, salty, musky scent, and enjoyed her for as long as she let him.

“I know I asked you this before,” she said after several long, quiet minutes, “but how
did
you come out of that family so great?”

“Probably my mom. She’s nothing like them. If you took them out of the picture, you’d like her.” More silence. “I hear Avery’s coming for a visit.”

“Yeah.”

The upbeat tone of her voice made him smile. “You sound happy.”

“I am. You might see her if you’re still at the bar doing the inspection when I bring her by. It’s a good time to mend broken ties, you know? She’s in a bad place right now, and I hope I can make it better somehow.”

Her generosity and sweetness warmed Ethan. “And Chloe?”

“Still don’t know where she is.”

She lowered one hand from his shoulder and threaded her fingers with his free hand. Kissed his neck and whispered, “Miss you, too.”

Ethan’s already half-hard erection stiffened beneath her thigh, and he let his lids slide closed. But he didn’t act on the desire, because this time with her was special. These quiet moments were golden. He was pretty sure she didn’t give them to just anyone.

He wanted to broach the subject of the bar with her but didn’t want to lose this intimacy. So he held her waist firmly, twisted, and lay back, pulling her with him.

She tried to sit up, pushing against his chest.

“Relax, relax. I’m just getting comfortable.” She gazed down at him, those beautiful eyes a little wary. “What? You have somewhere pressing to be right now? Because my calendar happens to be wide-open.”

Her lips kicked up on one side. “I hear that’s rare.”

“Not as rare as it used to be.”

“Why’s that?”

The thought made him grin. “Because I closed down the mayor’s free favor-for-a-friend service.”

That brought both her brows up, and her laugh was low and dubious. “That couldn’t have gone over well.”

“Nothing I do goes over well unless it’s exactly what he wants, when he wants, how he wants. And, well, we all have to draw the line somewhere, right?”

“We do.” Her lashes lowered, shading her eyes. “I just wish those lines weren’t always so difficult to draw.”

She propped her elbow on his shoulder, her chin in her hand, and seemed to drift.

Ethan twirled a piece of her hair around his finger, unable to remember the last time he’d been so utterly comfortable. But something about her comment on drawing lines had him saying, “Tell me about your job. How’d you go from waiting tables at your father’s bar to climbing the ladder at a company like that?”

“A lot of being in the right place at the right time willing to bust my ass. I picked up a job working at their bars down south and was able to improve their efficiency because of all those years I’d had to work Dad’s bar alone. That earned me a management position, where I made more changes, which they liked.

“And then one winter seven years ago, seventy percent of the construction crew working on a new restaurant in Burbank came down with some nasty intestinal bug. They think it was some kind of food poisoning, but it lasted weeks. The corporation was scrambling to stay on course, and I always needed money, so when I wasn’t working my shift in the restaurant, I was on the construction job site.”

She smiled, the expression soft. “Those were great days. Filled with lots of fun guys, loud music, belly laughs, and hard work. I’ve never felt like more of a team than I did with them. They took me under their wing, taught me everything. Some of the best days of my life. It was like having twenty fathers to make up for the one I never had.

“I knew that’s where I wanted to be, so I transitioned out of the restaurant and into the construction crew. And as soon as the bigwigs put two and two together—my customer service experience with my construction experience—they jumped at the chance to push me out of construction and into design.

“Everything I know I learned on the job. I’ve never spent any time in a classroom. I haven’t been back to school since Wildwood High.” Her expression sobered, and she sighed. “Wish I’d known how much more value companies place on education than they do on experience before I quit.”

“What made you quit such an amazing job?”

“They turned the construction department over to one of the brothers who’d been living in Europe for years.” Her voice made a drastic shift toward derision. “Basically just to shove him into a corner where he wouldn’t cause the rest of the family trouble. Which meant I ended up getting stuck with him. And he was the epitome of why I don’t value education over experience. He’d graduated top of his class from some fancy Ivy League university with freaking double majors in engineering and business, but his parents had to promote me to run the division because he was absolutely worthless.”

“His
parents
promoted you?”

“Yes. On paper, they made it look like he promoted me in an effort to give him the illusion of power, probably in hopes that he’d actually grow a pair and claim some.”

His lips lifted. “From the sounds of it, that didn’t happen.”

“He was too busy trying to continue living his French lifestyle.”

“What’s the French lifestyle?”

“Working too little, talking too much, partying too much, eating and drinking too much, and fucking too many women who weren’t his wife.”

Ethan’s stomach squeezed. “Ah.”

“Not me,” she said. “Not for lack of trying, but I was not one of his conquests.”

“He hit on you?”

“Relentlessly. Which is no jewel in my crown. The man hit on every female within a ten-block radius between the ages of eighteen and fifty-eight.” She made a disgusted sound. “I miss my job, but getting away from him was the best thing I’ve done in years.”

“Why didn’t you file a harassment suit?”

“Because his parents didn’t want the family name tainted. They swore if I did, they’d drag it out in the courts so long whatever settlement I got would be eaten up by lawyers. They swore I’d never work in the industry again. I decided to take my experience and move on. Little did I know how difficult that was going to be.”

“Jeez, nothing like an employer’s appreciation of a job well done.”

She laughed softly. “Right?”

He believed her. Call him gullible, call him suckered, but he believed in the beautiful soul he’d always believed her to be when others believed the worst.

He ran his fingers over her cheek, collected a wayward strand of hair, and tucked it behind her ear. “And what’s in your future, Delaney Hart?”

Another heavy sigh. “I’d rather not think about the future or the past. Because I’m feeling pretty damn perfect in the present.”

Ethan’s heart swelled.

He hugged her close, his heart brimming with emotion, his body bursting with sensation, his soul teeming with joy. “I was thinking the same thing.”

She lifted her eyes to his. “Thank you. For understanding.” She stroked her hand down the side of his face and her thumb over his lower lip. “You are . . . so special.”

“Thank you for forgiving my insecurity and doubt.”

She stretched to press her lips to his, soft and sweet, then rested her head against his shoulder with a sigh of utter contentment, something he would never have guessed possible given the state in which she’d arrived. And the fact that he’d provided that contentment, that he’d been able to settle her from the spin, made her feel safe in a crisis . . . hell, that meant everything to him.

But while Ethan’s brain was busy trying to figure out just how he could possibly have both Delaney and his pub while giving her the financial security she needed with The Bad Seed, she murmured, “I should go.” Then she wrapped her arm around his waist, snuggled closer and murmured, “I just need five more Ethan-minutes.”

He chuckled and settled in, prepared to give her as many Ethan-minutes as she wanted, because Delaney didn’t just make him happy. She made him happier than he’d ever believed he could be.

FOURTEEN

Ethan’s phone chimed for what felt like the millionth time in the last hour, but he stuck with his pattern of ignoring it. His gaze blurred over the drinks inside the cooler at Finley’s Market, and chilled air flowed over the hot skin of his face.

I just need five more Ethan-minutes.

The phone vibrated to let him know someone left a message—probably Trace. Or Jodi because she’d gotten a call from Trace.

Ethan had been frozen in indecision for an hour. Which meant he’d actually made a decision to miss the inspection at The Bad Seed by default.

Delaney would be livid when she found out. And Ethan felt guilty about the problem the missed appointment would cause her—labor fees, rescheduling, time lost, material storage, and on and on. Yet evidently not enough to light a fire under his ass to make it to the site.

“Dude, you’re running up my electricity bill.”

The voice at his shoulder made Ethan jump. He jerked a look over his shoulder and found Caleb grinning at him. “You’re lucky I don’t have a bad heart.”

“Did you find the answer to the universe in there?” He looked into the cooler, too, and lifted his brows. “Or even better, this week’s lotto numbers?”

Ethan grabbed an iced tea and closed the cooler. Reality was becoming a real bitch. And he couldn’t manage the effort required to fake a good mood. “I wish.”

“Uh-oh. What happened now?” Caleb’s voice was filled with resignation. He pushed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and propped his shoulder against the cooler’s frame. “And which one did it?”

The sight of tears sparkling on Delaney’s cheeks the night before flashed in his head.

Ethan planted one hand against the glass, clenched his other around the drink, and glared at the floor. “Austin. And . . . me.”

They both fell silent as a few customers passed. When the aisle was clear again, Ethan pushed off the case. “Austin confronted her again last night. Threatened her. He’s out of control. I have to do
something
, but if I do it wrong, I could make things worse. And the only solutions I can think of hurt either Delaney or Pops. Or both. And not knowing what to do, I let the first inspection appointment—a big one—roll by this morning without showing.”

“Ouch.” Caleb grimaced. “That’s gonna leave a mark.”

Guilt punched him in the gut again. “I feel like I’m locked in a vice and by doing nothing, I’m just making things worse. But
how the hell
do I make a decision knowing I’m going to hurt one or both?”

He turned, dropped back against the cold glass, and twisted the top on the tea.

“You know what really sucks?” Caleb asked.

Ethan rolled his head toward Caleb. “Yes. I do. But I have a feeling I’m not thinking what you’re thinking.”

“What sucks is that your misery is taking away all the fun in my I-told-you-so.” He shook his head and sighed. Ethan let Caleb have his victory, even though it went against his grain to stand down.

After a moment of silence Caleb asked, “Have you considered quitting your job? How about taking a hit out on Austin and your father? The latter is my personal favorite. And I could take up a community collection to help you fund it.”

“Jesus.” Ethan looked away and shook his head. “This is the support I get from my best buddy when I’m in a tight spot?”

“Hey. Are you really into her?” Caleb asked, voice lifting with surprise. “Holy shit. This is more than fun between the sheets for you?”

A lightning strike of fear cut through Ethan’s chest and belly. But all he had to do was pull the memory of the look in her eyes and the sincerity in her voice and the words
you are so special
.

He drank again, wishing he had a hit of vodka to go along with the tea.

“Are you sure you’re not still in that infuckuation stage? She’s only been in town three weeks, and all you’ve been doing is fu—”

“Do you remember the first time you fell for Shannon?” Ethan cut him off with a glare. “Because I do. The summer between freshman and sophomore year, the first time you saw her in cutoffs at the water hole. You’d never seen her before, never talked to her before—you didn’t even know her name. And you were
gone
over her. Are you really going to tell me how fast I can develop feelings for someone?”

“Oh-kay . . .” Caleb drew out the word and raked a hand through his hair. “I guess not. But if you’re so into her, why aren’t you talking to her about this? In fact, she and Harlan seem to get along great. They were all buddy-buddy at Heidi’s dog wash, and they came into Black Jack’s together the other night. Just sayin’. You know I’m all for anything that will get you to finally kick your dad and brother to the curb. Doing it now opens up all sorts of options.”

All the information, emotions, and problems whizzing around Ethan’s head like a galaxy on crack suddenly shut down as if everything had been sucked into a wormhole.

Options.

Ethan’s gaze blurred over the shelves of groceries. He’d never considered talking to her about this because he’d always seen her as the opposition. He’d been conditioned to think of her as the enemy. Trained to believe that any kind of relationship with her would have been a betrayal of his family.

But now Ethan knew better. Now none of that mattered.

Now everything was different.

The knot in his gut loosened, and the space filled with giddy jitters. He nodded as the rightness of it filled him. “Talk to her.”

Yes.
He would definitely talk to her. About a lot of things. But first he needed to clear his schedule and get a few ducks in a row—the way Delaney would.

He pushed from the cooler with the ability to breathe deep again, and slapped Caleb on the shoulder. “Thanks, dude. Your next order’s on me.”

Ethan walked into the sheriff’s station fifteen minutes later with a few of Delaney’s cunning little tricks on tap.

“Hey, Ethan.” Tim Sanchez, one of Ethan’s high school classmates, manned the desk. “What’s up?”

“Hey, Tim. Is Austin here?”

“Yep.” He opened a door to allow Ethan behind the counter. “Should be in the break room. Or check his desk.”

A kaleidoscope of emotions swirled inside him as he wound through the hallways and back offices until he heard Austin’s laughter.

When he reached the lunchroom, he leaned in, located his brother, and said, “Austin, I need a minute.”

His brother welcomed Ethan the way he always did—with a false smile and insincere hospitality. He always had to look good in front of others. Just like Dad. “Well, come on in—”

“Outside,” was all Ethan said before ducking out and heading toward the back exit.

Ethan paced the space between the building and the parking lot, trying to find some level emotional ground.

Just as Ethan stepped past the exit door for the sixth time, it opened.

“What in the hell is wrong?”

The thick attitude in Austin’s voice snapped something inside Ethan. He whirled on his brother, surprising him enough to force him back a step. “I know you threatened Delaney last night, and I’m here to tell you that you’re on the razor-thin edge of losing your career. If you go near her one more time, I will make sure you pay for it. Am I clear?”

Austin’s shock cleared in an instant. “You stupid prick. You think you’re different than the dozens, hell hundreds of guys she’s fucked? You’re not. You’re nothing to her but a means to an end. So stop making a fool of yourself. You should be pissed at her. If it wasn’t for Hart—”

“If it wasn’t for her, you would have found some other reason to fight with the bikers that night, Ian would have still died—if not in that fight, then another—and we both know it. This has nothing to do with Delaney. This only has to do with someone in the wrong place at the wrong time becoming an easy scapegoat.”

Austin huffed a laugh. “Good luck trying to sell that version to anyone who matters.”

“
I’m
the only one who matters. I don’t give a shit what you or Dad thinks. And I care even less about what either of you want.”

“Better watch it. No one’s going to be offering to help you out with that liquor license if you don’t shut your mouth.”

Ethan’s brain stumbled.

And let me guess who you know offhand with a ton of cash at their disposal to toss away on a liquor license . . .
The way Delaney had jumped to that conclusion at the time had seemed so ludicrous. But now . . .

“How’d you know?” he demanded, taking a step closer.

“What’s important isn’t
how
we know. What’s important is
that
we know. We know everything. Which means we know where your loyalties lie, and I’m warning you, bro, you’d better get your ass back on the right side of the fence or that little fantasy of yours is going to evaporate.”

We.
That could mean only one group of people: Jack, Wayne, and Austin.

Rage broke free in Ethan’s chest. The people closest to him, the people who should be supporting him, had been manipulating Ethan behind his back. The people he’d given up his future to help heal were using his dream as leverage to control him.

And Delaney had seen it so clearly.

Ethan was virtually vibrating with the chaos of emotion rattling through him, and he’d never been as grateful as he was for Delaney’s clever ideas.

“You’ve got that backward,
bro
,” he said, barely holding back his fury. “What’s important is that
you
remember that you’re on video threatening and abusing Delaney. If you want the incident at the bar last night kept quiet, then
you
will keep quiet.

“You will
not
go near Delaney again. The first time you even look at her wrong, it’s game over. I’m not spending one more day, one more
minute
living under anyone’s manipulation. If I have to blackmail you to get you off my back and out of my life, so be it. I’m a Hayes. It’s obviously in my blood. So don’t underestimate me.”

Austin’s face had turned red, his expression furious. He pounded his index finger into Ethan’s chest. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”

Ethan knocked Austin’s hand away. “I’ve known you your entire goddamned life. I know your habits, your patterns, your preferences. I know your crutches and your weaknesses. I know what makes you tick. So, yeah. I know
exactly
what and who I’m dealing with. And I will act accordingly. You’ve been warned. The gloves are off.”

Delaney and Avery descended the front steps of Wildly Artesian with Phoebe holding the door open to the store.

“Avery’s got vision,” she told Delaney as if she didn’t already know that from growing up with her. “She’s going to be able to see how magnificent the changes will be.”

Delaney and Avery shared a knowing grin.

“I’m sure she will,” Delaney said.

“When I get home,” Phoebe continued calling after them as they turned toward Delaney’s Jeep, “we’ll sketch out organizers and displays for your space, Avery.”

“Potential space, Auntie,” Avery called. “Please don’t forget—”

“To unpack and refrigerate. I know, I know.”

On the sidewalk, Delaney and Avery paused to allow a jogger with a dog to pass while Phoebe greeted a new customer and disappeared inside. And as they reached the Jeep, Avery exhaled and looked over the roof at Delaney. “She’s perfected the art of the hard sell packaged in a powder puff.”

“Relentless.”

“She’ll get my pastries in the fridge, right?” Avery asked like a nervous mother dropping her newborn with a sitter for the first time. “Maybe I should just go do that really quick.”

“Oh, I promise that is the first thing she’ll do.” Delaney pulled open her door. “That woman is scheming to get you back here the same way she was me. She’s not going to blow that by forgetting something as crucial as taking care of the precious commodities that will make or break the success of that tasting party she whipped together for you.”

Avery smiled, and they both slid into the car.

Once Delaney had started toward The Bad Seed, she said, “That duffel had my mouth watering and my stomach growling. And it must have weighed seventy pounds.”

“Seventy-five. Hell to get in an overhead.”

“What in God’s name did you bring?”

“Everything I had on hand. Caramels, fudge, toffee, brownies, brittle, caramel corn, biscotti, cookies, various fruit and candy sheet bars, baklava, scones, truffles . . . I can’t remember what else. I’m going to whip up a few things I couldn’t travel with this afternoon—a few pies, éclairs, flan, cinnamon rolls—”

“Stop. Stop already. I think I’m getting diabetes over here.”

Avery pressed a hand to her stomach. “If no one shows up, they’re all coming back to your place, so you might just
get
diabetes.”

They’d spent the last two hours getting all of the apologies and regrets and forgiveness out of the way. Catching up on their lives and their losses. And Delaney discovered she and Avery were in very similar situations—simply put: limbo.

Avery rolled her window down, pulled the elastic band from her hair, and the dark-chocolate strands whipped in the wind. With her arm out the window, head back against the seat, eyes closed, and a smile on her lips, she looked utterly peaceful, which, surprisingly, brought quite a bit of peace to Delaney, too.