Forbidden Fling (Wildwood Book 1) (31 page)

“The plans, the land, your family, the appointment . . .” She shook her head. “Forgive me for not joining the believers club.”

“I know it looks . . . bad. It’s so complicated.”

She fisted her hands in the bend of her elbows, trying to collect the anger, the betrayal, the hurt. “So you’re telling me you
weren’t
planning on using
my
license to open Wildcard Brews.”

“At first, yes. With Joe gone and the bar abandoned, yes, I was sure the license would come available, and I
had
planned on grabbing it.” He flicked a look at her, then let his gaze skim the plans. “Even after you came back, I was sure you’d just tear the bar down and walk away. By the time I realized you were serious about the renovation, we were . . . involved.”

He pulled in a breath, met her gaze, and stepped closer. “I care about you, Delaney. I know we went into this for a fling, but somewhere along the line it became more for me.”

“Like . . . maybe about the time I dropped the building permit on your desk?”

His brow pulled in a frown. “What? I—I don’t know when, exactly.” He gestured toward the plans, agitated. “But this started long before you came back to town. And it all got so complicated so fast. First my job, then my father, then Austin. Everything drifted out of control and now I feel like it’s a loaded freight train headed downhill with no brakes.”

Anger and disappointment boiled over, smothering the hurt. “That’s a pathetic excuse for not doing the right thing when you should have.” She lifted a hand to stab a rigid finger at him. “
You
have the breaks.
You
have
all
the control, and you know it.

“Do you know how much money your missed appointment cost me today? Hundreds. Maybe thousands. I’m not even sure yet. It depends on how the delay affects my other subcontractors, and the availability of my supplies. And the worst part—you
knew
you were burning me when you didn’t show up, and you
still bailed
. That’s what they call
premeditation
.”

“I was trying to figure out—”

“How best to screw me over again? That is my money, Ethan.
My money.
Not the invisible cash from some huge corporation. Not a paper trail for some anonymous bank. Not petty cash for some multimillionaire. That is money I earned on a ladder, putting up drywall until two a.m., crawling on my belly under a building to connect plumbing lines, risking heat stroke in an attic laying insulation.”

Her voice grew louder as the memories of all her backbreaking work returned.

“That money is
all I have
, and you
know
that. Your missed appointment this morning is stealing cash from
my
pockets so you can further
your
goal.”

“I’m not stealing anything, and it’s not just a
goal
.” He bit out the words, raising his voice to match hers. “It’s not just about me either. Pops invested his entire retirement in this plan. I can’t just snap my fingers and get that back for him now that we hit a wall.
This
is his dream.” Ethan slapped his hand to the plans. “
Our
dream. One that’s been in the works nearly my whole life. And I don’t know how long he’s going to be able to continue working the farm. He should have been off that tractor years ago, and it’s my fault he’s not.

“He’s always been there for me. Even when I made that one unforgivable mistake with Ian. When the rest of my family hated me, Pops was there. And because he supported me, they abandoned him. He’s only got two things left in the world—
this dream
and
me
.”

Delaney was still back at “that one unforgivable mistake.”

Ian’s death. It would always be between them. She’d always feel a certain measure of guilt over the cause of the fight, over that fight causing this pain in Ethan’s life. And while he may not blame her for the pain he’d suffered, they both knew that if it weren’t for Delaney, Ian might still be alive, and Ethan might still be the apple of his parents’ eye. Hell, he might very well be off inventing some new miracle drug.

And that didn’t even begin to address the bigger issue between them right now: deceit. Deceit she couldn’t help but notice he wasn’t particularly apologetic over.

She’d obviously misjudged him.

Terribly.

She crossed her arms over the ripples of hurt and disappointment rolling through her body. “And I have two sisters who I
didn’t
support when I should have. Sisters I abandoned because your family was so harsh I couldn’t face staying here. And now
I’m
all
they
have.”

She dropped her arms and held his gaze. “So, you do what you need to do, Ethan. And I’ll do what I need to do.”

FIFTEEN

As soon as Ethan passed through the gates to McClellan Farms, he knew something was wrong. The place was still. The laborers Pops paid by the hour to do the heavy work around the farm weren’t wandering through the barn or the fields. And Pops’s tractor was parked in the barn.

But the most unusual and worrisome was the sight of Pops sitting on the porch of his house in an old, tattered wicker rocker with Homie at his feet.

Ethan let go of his turmoil over Delaney and stood from the truck, calling to Pops. “Can’t remember the last time I came over here when you weren’t working. You all right?”

“Fine. Just waitin’ for the heat to pass. What’s your excuse?”

Heat was definitely an excuse. It was only eighty degrees. Besides, Pops worked regardless of weather. The only thing that kept that man down was pain.

Ethan shut his door and ambled his way toward the porch. “My excuse isn’t near as simple as yours.”

“It’s a gift. Comes with age.”

Ethan took the steps slowly and sat on the top stair, where Homie met him. “Well, then.” He sighed, stroking his hand along Homie’s soft fur. “I guess there’s something to look forward to after all.”

A long moment of blessed silence stretched comfortably between them. The trees rustled in the soft breeze; a dog barked somewhere in the distance. But with all the conflict battling inside him, Ethan didn’t feel any of the peace or tranquility he usually experienced here.

“Things are going downhill, Pops. I’m in a real bad spot.”

Harlan made one of those I’m-listening-go-on sounds and crossed his arms.

“Austin’s gone beyond being a pain in the ass. He’s out of control. He and Dad and Wayne are all in this together. They know about the brewery.”

Pops’s gaze sharpened. “Let me guess—the silent investor.”

Ethan nodded. “I had to call Steve to verify. How’d you know? And why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know.” Pops gazed out over his land again. “But something about that offer didn’t feel right. Now it all makes sense—if you can call the way they think sense.”

“Delaney knows, too.” His gaze dropped to the step beneath his feet, and he clasped his hands between his knees. “She went over to the warehouse to find me and found the plans instead. Took her two seconds to figure out I’d planned on using her license.”

Pops made a disgusted sound in his throat. “You’ve made one hell of a lot of misery for yourself, boy. Wayne wants that building gone in the worst way, as if that will cure Ellen. Your daddy wants Wayne’s money, as if it’s the Holy Grail to another term as mayor. If they can control you, they’ll both get what they want, and you’ll continue paying for a crime you never even committed.”

Ethan opened his mouth to counter the blame of creating his own misery, but his grandfather continued.

“And Delaney . . . hell, she has every reason to be pissed at you. You went behind her back. You were scheming to pull that license right out from under her while doing God knows what else with her. Talk about mixed messages.”

“No, no, no. Hold on, Pops. We—”

They what?
Had an understanding? Were on the same page?

Ethan’s mind drifted back to her small frame leaning on him, her warm tears soaking into his tee. To the feeling of being valued and respected and wanted. The feeling of being needed. And a sudden wash of knee-buckling loss broke out of nowhere.

But Pops didn’t notice; he just kept on hammering. “Why don’t you ever listen to me? I know that girl is different. I see the way you look at her. Why didn’t you just let Wildcard simmer on the back burner when I told you to? Then you could have brought that pretty little thing up to the top of your priority list where she belongs, and you’d be happy instead of miserable right now, wouldn’t you? If your grandma was here, she’d be draggin’ you around by the ear, tellin’ you what’s what.”

Ethan scraped his hands through his hair and growled with the frustration of it all. Twisting toward Pops, he said, “We’ve been planning this thing for
years
. We’re
family
.”

“Family.” Harlan barked a cynical laugh. “What the hell does that mean? Look at the people in our family. The men are corrupt, lying, bullying sacks of shit. The women have latched on to those men and are too weak to stand on their own, think on their own.

“Family is who you choose to make family, the way I chose Mable to be my family. You have the chance to choose who you make family. And if you continue wastin’ your loyalty on people who don’t deserve it instead of showing that girl who and what you really are, then you aren’t the man I thought you’d become.”

“Pops—”

“I’m tired of talkin’. You stew for a while. Nothin’ penetrates that thick skull of yours until it marinates awhile.” Harlan pushed himself to his feet, grimacing. “I’m gonna nap a couple of hours, then get back to work.”

The screen door creaked open and snapped closed, and Ethan’s lungs decompressed in a whoosh.

“Well, hell.” He dropped back against one wide banister and squinted over the fields. “I can’t seem to do anything right no matter how hard I try.”

With Pops’s disappointment echoing in Ethan’s head, his drive back into town seemed to take forever. His mind bounced between wants, needs, obligations, and loyalties until he was dizzy.

By the time he walked into his office, he felt as if a hole had been burned straight through his gut. The thought of Delaney slipping away made him unsettled and edgy.

And when he stepped through the door to his office, Jodi said, “There you are. The phone has been ringing off the hook. Bossman, you know I’m all for slowing the schedule, but you’re killing me with these missed appointments—”

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry.” He took the pile of messages she handed him. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll call them myself and reschedule. You can go early.”

“Wait—what?” she asked, confused. “Ethan . . .”

“See you tomorrow.” He escaped into his office and shut the door. He leaned back against it and closed his eyes on a sigh.

All he wanted to do was call Delaney. But then what? What would he say? He didn’t even know what he wanted. He was damn sure she didn’t want him anymore, and he didn’t blame her.

But after experiencing the feeling of being wanted by her, needed by her, the knowledge that he’d broken that fragile connection was like a knife in his gut.

“She wouldn’t stay anyway.” No matter what, Delaney was going to hit the road at the earliest opportunity. If her family and her age and her obstacles hadn’t stopped her ten years ago, a fling with him sure as hell wouldn’t stop her now. “My priorities are in the right place.”

He dragged himself to his desk and dropped into his chair, fanned out the messages, opened the schedule on his computer, and forced everything related to Delaney from his mind.

This job was still his fastest route to his own business. This job brought in the money he needed to fund the future. What the hell that future would hold now he had no damn idea. But without hope, he had nothing. So he picked up the phone on his desk and returned his first call.

Ethan was buried in paperwork, popping TUMS, when his name was bellowed through the front office, startling him out of his zone. Outside the night had closed in, and his windows were dark. He sat forward to stand just as his office door was flung open. His father stood in the doorway with a look Ethan had seen way too many times before. A look of self-righteous indignation and fury.

And Ethan didn’t need, want, or deserve this shit from his own father.

He grabbed his keys. “You caught me on my way out.”

“That bitch went over your head,” Jack said, blocking Ethan’s path. “You couldn’t even do you job well enough to control one goddamned woman in a man’s profession. She went to the city manager and demanded they bring in an outside inspector.”

Ethan’s anger started as a low simmer in his belly, but he knew how fast it could come to a boil with his father, so he focused on control. “You’ve underestimated her. She’s not someone who’s going to be scared away.”

Jack took a step closer, anger seething from his pores. “You’d better find a way to change that or I’ll find someone for this job who will.”

“No. You won’t. You don’t manage this position. You have no say over what the planner or the inspector does or doesn’t do. The only reason you’ve had any input is because I’ve bent over backward searching for ways to smooth the rift between us. But the more I do, the more you want and the worse it gets. It’s over, Dad. You need to back off.”

“I’m the
mayor
. I have say in
everything
that happens in this city.
You
work for
me
. And if I say you’re going to shut her down, you
shut her down
.”

“You’re delusional. I know you think you’re Lord God King Bufu around here, but there are these things called laws, Dad, and, yes, even you have to obey them.” Ethan was yelling, despite his attempt to hold his temper. “Delaney knows what she’s doing, and she’s beating you at your own goddamned game because she’s playing by all the rules, which gives her all the power. At the end of the day, what you say and what you want mean shit up against real laws. And the laws say she has every right to demand another investigator, because she knows I’m compromised by your influence.”

“The only thing you’re compromised by is your own pathetic weakness.” His father’s sneer had turned from angry to nasty. “Austin told me you’re fucking her. You’re a disgrace. She’s lower than those sluts you screw out of town.”

Ethan lunged for his father. He fisted Jack’s dress shirt and hauled him in, nose to nose. “Don’t ever—
ever
—talk like that about her again.” His voice was low, scratchy, and menacing, and Ethan was having a hard time finding air in his tight lungs. “Or I will plant my fist in your face until you need jaw surgery.”

He released Jack’s shirt with a hard shove, and his father stumbled back, hitting the office wall hard.

Ethan felt sick. Disgusted. With his father and himself.

He was done. Done with this conflict. Done with this stress. Done with this family.

Just
done
.

“Go find yourself a new whipping boy,
Mayor
. I quit.” He stepped toward the door.

“You can’t quit. You need this job. How are you ever going to open that brewery you want?”

Ethan smiled through the disappointment. “You’ve helped me realize that I want the brewery less than I want to get the hell away from you. Thanks, Dad. It’s the best thing you’ve ever done for me.”

He leaned close, planted a hand on his father’s chest, and met his gaze deliberately. “Back off Delaney. Back off me. Or you will regret it. And you don’t want to test me. I promise.”

Delaney brought the arm of the table saw down on the strip of maple flooring at the marked angle. Her blade cut through the wood smoothly, evenly, perfectly, just like it always did. Lifting the arm, the saw automatically shut down, and she turned with the board, crouched, and settled the piece into the starburst pattern she’d created where the boards originated from the edge of the oval brass dedication plaque she’d had made.

The wood fit into the grooves of the piece beside it perfectly, and Delaney sat back on her heels to look at the job as a whole. A moment of pride, of rightness, flashed through her before hurt smothered all the pleasure. Within two heartbeats, her whole body had refilled with the ache of Ethan’s betrayal. And the hell of it was, she couldn’t be 100 percent angry with him. He’d been trying to help his grandfather. The same way she was trying to help her sisters. And she certainly knew how broken families drove people toward warped destinations.

“What a damn mess,” she muttered, and stood to measure and cut the next board.

She had to keep her head down, her mind focused. The hurt would pass. She’d experienced enough of it to know.

Only something inside her whispered this time it was different.

She silenced the voice with the roar of the saw and cut into the board.

When she released the arm and the saw whined to a stop, she heard her phone ringing. With the board in one hand, she reached for her phone with the other and found Phoebe’s number.

“Hey, how’s Avery’s tasting going?”

“It’s me,” Avery said, her voice filled with breathy excitement. “And, wow, I can’t even believe the turnout. I never expected anything like this.”

“Yeah?” Delaney’s heart lifted a little, and she knelt to set the board down, then dropped to her butt and leaned against the wall to talk. “Tell me.”

“I’m completely out of food. An hour, Delaney, and it’s
completely gone
.”

“Nuh-uh,” she teased.

“Uh-huh.”

Delaney laughed. “Well, that’s because it’s amazing. Any solid potential business?”

“Oh my God,
yes
. It’s exciting, but, God, terrifying. I need to talk to you about it. I need to know what you think.”

A long-dormant sense of being needed, of being respected, of being loved opened in her chest. The sensation was so sweet, Delaney dropped her head into her hand and closed her eyes against the sting, pushing out, “Okay” past a tight throat.