Forbidden Fling (Wildwood Book 1) (4 page)

A trickle of dread opened at the back of Delaney’s neck and carved a winding path toward her belly. It was that dark, sickening kind of dread that signaled her subconscious was flashing neon warning signs. The kind of dread that came just before her life tipped on its axis and she found herself hanging by her fingernails.

“What do you mean?”

“The demolition bill—if you decide to take the sitting-back-and-watching-the-world-go-by route—won’t be cheap. But I’m sure you know all about that.”

“There is no
other route
. And I don’t know what you mean I ‘know all about that.’ I know enough about demolition to get things out of my way so I can rebuild them. The corporation attorneys deal with anything legal. What
demolition bill
are you talking about?”

Phoebe gave her one of those I-don’t-quite-believe-you looks. “The law gives the city the right to take over control of a property when its owner fails to comply with local and state laws. By disregarding the notices and failing to correct the building code violations in this bar, you’ve given the city the right to make decisions for you.”

“Fine. Whatever. I’m over trying to hold on to this in hopes of being able to give Avery or Chloe something to fall back on. I can’t make either of them take advantage of an opportunity, and, honestly, I can’t say I blame them. This place is obviously more work than it’s worth. The city can turn this place into a circus for all I care.”

“You should care,” Phoebe said, serious. “Because the law also says that the owner is responsible for all fees incurred by the city in the act of managing the property.”

“There are no outstanding fees. The property’s paid for. I’ve kept all the bills and taxes up-to-date with my own money—all for Avery and Chloe.”

“You may have obeyed some laws but not all the laws, which you would have known if you’d opened the letters from the city.”

“I
did
open the letters. They were notices that this place was a pile of shit, which wasn’t exactly news. I got the condemnation warning the same day I lost my job, so I haven’t exactly had time to deal with it. And I don’t have much of a reason to deal with it either. The only reason I didn’t let the city take over the property sooner was so Avery and Chloe had something to come back to, which in hindsight is a joke on me, isn’t it?”

Phoebe heaved a sigh. “Well, sweetheart, I’m sorry to say this is no joke. And you’re the one who’s going to have to deal with it.”

Delaney took a deep breath, forced her mind out of personal mode and into professional mode. She had to just treat this like any other problem that popped up on the job site, day in and day out. Get the facts, figure out her options, and, yes, dammit, fine. She’d deal with it.

Delaney inhaled to clear her head. “How much are we talking?”

Phoebe’s brows shot up. “Have you got a cool seventy-five grand to throw away?”

Delaney’s mind slipped right out of professional mode. All thoughts of meeting Ethan vanished, and her plan of asking Phoebe more about him evaporated with them.

Her hand dropped from her head and hit her thigh, and the slap echoed around the room. She choked out a sound of shock. “How could it
possibly
cost—”

“The going rate for business demolition is ten dollars a square foot. After adding in the distillery out back, hauling, and disposal, that’s what you’ve got. If you let the city choose the company and bill you, you should budget for another twenty-five grand.”

“Holy shit . . .”

Delaney had barely caught her breath when Phoebe continued.

“We both know Avery and Chloe have nothing. Avery’s in the middle of a divorce and looking at filing bankruptcy. I haven’t talked to Chloe in eight months and have no idea what she’s doing or where she’s living. Even if the city could track her down, you know Chloe—she’s never been able to hold on to money.”

“Avery’s getting divorced?” Delaney’s stomach churned. How much grief could one family take? “I thought you said she and David were going to therapy.”

“Focus on the bar, Delaney. It’s all you can control now. And when the city comes after you for the money, Avery and Chloe won’t be able to help.”

“
Why me?
We’re all owners.”

“Because they have nothing. You have perfect credit the city can ruin. You have money in the bank they can siphon. And if you decide to go back to work for someone else, soon enough you’ll have a wage they can garnish.”

“
Decide
to go back to work? You say that like I have a choice. I don’t.” She pushed from the stool. “Every day I’m not making money, it’s seeping out of my savings. This can’t be legal. Don’t you know someone who can help?”

“Actually, I do.” Phoebe finished her wine and met Delaney’s gaze directly. “You can help yourself, Delaney.”

“I don’t know what you’re—”

“You can take your experience renovating other bars and renovate this one.”

Delaney dropped back to the stool, shaking her head. “I don’t want to have anything to do with this place, let alone renovate it. I need to focus on finding another job, Phoebe. And I want what I had. I want what was taken from me. I loved that damn job. Loved going to work every day. I made good money and had a great crew. I want that back, dammit. And it’s obviously going to be harder to find than I thought. I may have to start looking beyond the West Coast, and I can’t just put my job hunt on hold and throw everything I have into this piece of shit. How could you even suggest . . . after all we suffered . . .”

Anger welled inside her like a geyser, but Delaney closed her eyes and clenched her teeth, doing all she could not to lash out at the messenger.

Phoebe had relocated to Wildwood when Delaney was a sullen teen, a few years after her mother had deserted the family for a tile contractor her father had been using in one of the bar’s many remodels. In too many ways to count, Phoebe had been there for her and her sisters when their alcoholic father was either drunk or passed out.

But after what Delaney had been through the last few months, she couldn’t do another catastrophe. “No, Phoebe. Just, goddammit,
no
.”

Phoebe held up both hands in surrender, but her expression was sad. Defeated. A little heartbroken. “Fine, Delaney. It’s your choice, just like holding on to it instead of selling it as soon as Joe died was your choice. Just like looking at this as a burden instead of an opportunity is your choice.

“God knows I’ve never been able to force you to do anything. I was hoping that given what happened at that job you loved so much, you’d be ready to take control of your own future. That’s what this is—an opportunity to call the shots, to be independent, to invest in yourself for a change. Or if you’re serious about helping Avery and Chloe the way you’ve talked about for years, this could be your chance to put actions behind your words, use your guilt as fuel to drive you, and finally wipe out your regret over leaving them too soon.”

Delaney’s head pounded, and she pressed her fingers to closed lids trying to ease the pain. She’d been back in town for only a couple of hours, and all the hurt and guilt that had run her out of town a decade ago had already clawed their way back into her heart.

“But because you’re obviously looking at this emotionally instead of logically,” Phoebe said, “I’ll just line out your choices.

“Choice one: demolish and dispose of the bar; then sell the land. Land here is sitting on the market up to two years. If you’re lucky, you may break even or turn a ten percent profit. In the meantime, you’ll be broke and, probably, in debt.”

Delaney’s chest tightened up.

“Choice two: renovate; then sell. Unlike land, commercial buildings and businesses are selling fast and bringing returns of between three hundred and eight hundred percent on investment. I’ve compared similar properties in the county, and I’d say you’re sitting on one hell of a profit. You have the skill and experience needed to renovate this bar. Avery and Chloe don’t, which may be why they’ve never come back to take it over. But if Avery and Chloe still don’t want to help, you can pay them their part of the prerenovated value after you sell and walk away with all the profit. Or you can share the profit to ease the guilt you’ve carried over leaving them too soon. I want you to think about living the rest of your life with that burden off your back.

“Choice three: do nothing. The city will demolish and dispose of the bar, take every penny they can find in your name, and file a judgment against you for the balance. Your credit will be ruined, which, with the way preemployment screenings include credit checks nowadays, will make it difficult to find any job, let alone a good job. And even if you did find a job, a lot of what you earned would be taken to pay the outstanding judgment until it was paid in full.”

Delaney’s world crumbled a little more. She closed her eyes with a soft, “Oh my God.”

“If you choose option one or three, all I can offer is my undying love and a shoulder to cry on. If you choose option two, I can offer you a good pair of hands, a strong back, a creative mind, and financial support as an investor looking for a quick return on the renovation and sale of a viable business opportunity in an upscale tourist community.”

Phoebe crouched, disappearing a moment. In the silence the beat of Delaney’s heart filled her ears while her brain throbbed to the same rhythm. Her mind was swamped. Absolutely overwhelmed. Utterly short-circuited.

She closed her eyes and rubbed them again, resting her head in her hands. “All I want is for this place to go away. I just want to get on with my life. Find another job. Go back to work.”

“Unfortunately, you can’t run from your past forever.” Phoebe reappeared with a roll of blueprints and a combined look of pity and compassion. “I thought these might help you make your decision.” She slid the blueprints across the bar, returned to Delaney, and hugged her. Then held her at arm’s length. “You used to love this place when you were a little girl. And I know you can still see the diamond despite the rough, or you wouldn’t have done as well for yourself as you have.”

She released her and stepped back. “I’ll see you at home. The guest room is all ready for you. I’ll leave the front door open.”

Delaney didn’t move for a long time. Long after Phoebe’s footsteps had left the bar. Long after her car had rolled down the gravel drive.

She pulled out her phone and checked the time. It was way too late to be calling the East Coast, but maybe Avery would actually answer if Delaney called now. Dialing her number, Delaney closed her eyes and listened to the phone ring.

“Come on, Avery,” she murmured, needing to hear her sister’s voice. “Pick up.”

But just like always, Avery’s answering machine clicked on, and an irrational wave of sadness pushed through Delaney’s chest.

When the machine beeped, Delaney said, “Hey, Avery. You’ll never guess where I am.” She gave Avery a very high-level overview, polishing up reality enough not to scare her sister into continuing to avoid her calls. Then ended the conversation with, “I know this is probably a bad time, but I’ve been keeping the business license on this place current in case you or Chloe ever decided you wanted to take it over and make something out of it. Let me know if you’re interested. Otherwise, I guess I’ll have to make the decision on what to do with this place on my own.”

She paused, cleared the emotion from her voice, and managed an, “I love you” before she disconnected.

And finally, with murky resentment swimming in her veins, and heartache filling her chest, she unrolled the blueprints.

THREE

She wasn’t going to show. Ethan had to accept it.

He tipped back the last of the Jack and Coke he’d been nursing for an hour and glanced up at the baseball game filling the flat screen over the bar.

He’d known he’d blown it the second he’d jerked out of their kiss.
What a fool.
She’d probably spent the last hour finding out who he was and what he now did for a living, and was already back at Phoebe’s or a hotel, stabbing hot pins in a voodoo doll of his likeness.

He’d been handed Delaney Hart, the goddess of his every fantasy as a youth and still one of the most beautiful women he’d ever met, on a goddamned silver platter, and he’d blown it—the definition of
loser
if he’d ever heard one.

“What’s the score?” The female voice made the skin along Ethan’s neck tingle.

Delaney.

He snapped his head toward her as she leaned lazily into the bar, her gaze on the screen.

Ethan’s heart tripped all over itself. His throat narrowed around a lump of excitement, of disbelief. Her scent drifted to him, bringing with it the memory of the way her lips felt against his. The erotic way she stroked her tongue into his mouth. The fit of their bodies together.

And he went instantly hard.

Her gaze lowered and met his. Her eyes were blue. Not sky blue, not gray blue, but stormy blue. The color fit her perfectly. Her brows lifted, and a little smile tipped her mouth. “Score?”

Hell yes, he wanted to score. He wanted to hammer out a home run. Nail a grand slam.

Ethan cleared his throat. “Nine to six. Giants are—”

“Winning,” she said with a small smile. “The Pirates suck this year.”

And she liked baseball? Could she get any more perfect?

Gus, the bartender, passed on his way to the opposite end of the bar and paused. “Hey, Delaney. Get you a drink?”

“Hey, Gus. Tonic and lime, please.”

He nodded, then glanced at Ethan’s empty. “Want another?”

“I’m good, thanks.” When the bartender moved away, he asked Delaney, “How does Gus know you?”

“We met earlier, remember? That shot of tequila?”

“Right. What’s up with the tonic and lime? Did my beer push you over the edge?”

“My buzz is long gone.” She lifted a hand and brushed her fingers through his hair at the temple in an intensely intimate gesture. “And I get the feeling I’m going to want to remember every minute with you.”

Holy. Shit.

Tingles spread through his stomach. He wanted to pinch himself. If he woke up in a cold sweat, alone in his bed, he might jump off a bridge.

But there was still something . . . off . . . about her. The spark in her eyes was gone. “I didn’t think you were going to show. Thought your talk with Phoebe scared you away.”

“We didn’t talk about you. I was going to ask, but she was so focused on the bar, there wasn’t an opportunity. And, of course, any discussion over that place always tanks my mood, so I didn’t plan on coming. But then I was in my car, lost in thought, and I found myself headed this direction. If you were bad news, it would have been the first thing out of her mouth once you were out of earshot. That tells me a lot about you.”

She turned and pressed her back to the wood behind her. Her hip brushed his knee, and when she settled, she left it there.

And, yeah. He should tell her that her interpretations weren’t accurate, and that if Phoebe had known what Ethan had on his mind, she would have definitely warned Delaney away.

But, no. He really didn’t want to.

And, hell, what did it really matter?

“Here’s the thing.” She shifted closer and laid her hand on his thigh. Pressure registered first, then her heat penetrated the fabric, spreading up his leg and through his groin. “I’ve had a really,
really
rough month. A month I really don’t want to talk about. And I’m only in town for a very short time.

“I wasn’t looking for any kind of hookup until I saw you. For you, with you, I would be willing to do something easy and fun and light. But you need to know that’s all I do. I don’t do ties or boyfriends or dates or family. You know my past, so you know why I’m not made that way, and why I won’t be sticking around. So, I know all I need to know.”

This confirmed it: Delaney Hart was perfection personified.

Gus returned with Delaney’s drink, and she lifted it to her lips without taking her eyes off Ethan. He’d never felt this . . . this . . . 
electric
connection with anyone before. He didn’t know if it was just the thrill of a fantasy come true, some wild pheromones she emitted, or a true chemistry between them. Whatever it was made his blood bubble in his veins, his muscles tight and hot, his cock full and pulsing.

He leaned back on his stool, angled toward her, then eased her between his thighs with a light grip on her waist. She seemed to glide into position, melt against him, as if it were the most natural move in the world. Her eyes sparked with heat, her lips curved with approval, and she ran her hands across his shoulders, down his arms, and back up.

“Mmm,” she hummed.

Ethan let his hands roam over her waist, up her back, down her spine. Her nipples peaked beneath her silk blouse, and the sight ramped Ethan’s lust. She was surprisingly sleek and strong beneath the dressy clothes. “These aren’t exactly clothes that belong in The Bad Seed.”

“Interviews. I quit my job a couple of weeks ago.”

He cupped her jaw and stroked her cheek with his thumb. Her skin was petal-soft. She closed her eyes and tipped her head into his hand.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured. The awe in his voice embarrassed him. Until she turned her head and kissed his palm. Then Ethan’s stomach triple-flipped.

He took a quick look around. Gus had his back to them, his gaze on the television as he chatted with a customer at the other end of the bar. Only two or three other customers filled the seats, none near Ethan and Delaney.

“What’s the matter?” she asked, covering his hand with hers and kissing his palm again, finishing with a flick of her tongue. Heat arced up his arm. “Worried someone will see you with me?”

“No,” he lied. “I’m just not much for public affection, you know?”

She grinned, and a devilish little chuckle vibrated in her throat. Then she traced the lifeline on his palm with her tongue. And followed up that erotic display by taking his index finger into her mouth.

The sight of those full lips closing around his finger, of the naughty look in her eyes as she did it, speared his groin with raw lust. Ethan siphoned air in surprise, then held it as the warmth of her mouth closed around his skin and the suction of her mouth tugged. Her eyes were heavy-lidded and held his as she drew his finger from between her lips only to slowly lick it, then slide it back in with another sexy hum.

He growled, pulled his hand from her mouth, gripped the back of her neck, and dragged her lips to his. She opened to him and kissed him back, her tongue as hungry as his, her teeth grazing his lips. The sound of pleasure at the back of her throat felt like an M-80 exploding in Ethan’s gut, spreading heat everywhere.

She broke the kiss, her gaze swimming in liquid heat. “How close do you live?”

“Around the corner.”

Her gaze scanned his face while her hands slid down his chest and his belly, covered his crotch, and squeezed. Sensation rocketed through his groin, swamped his belly, pushed up his spine. He clenched his teeth, and both hands fisted in her hair.

She pulled in a little gasp, winced, then smiled. “Do that too hard, and I’ll come right here.”

His mind slipped out from under his tight control, his thoughts turning a little crazy. Just split flashes of sex so wild it hurt—body and soul.

“Let’s go.” She covered his hands with hers and eased them from her hair, then pulled cash from her purse, dropped it on the bar, and led him to the door. Outside, she asked, “Which—”

He turned, body-slammed her against the wall of the bar, and kissed her silent.

She’d known he was different from the moment she’d seen him standing in the dark at The Bad Seed. No guy snuck up on a woman alone in the dark. No one but an idiot or a savior. This guy was a little of both. He was an idiot for wanting her when he knew who she was, knew what she’d been. He was a savior because she really needed the escape he offered, needed to feel wanted.

She also really needed to believe great sex still existed, and the way he was kissing her, his tongue stroking and plunging in the same erotic way she wanted his cock penetrating her body, promised complete and total oblivion.

When he broke for air, she said, “I really need to know one thing.”

He froze. All the fluid heat drained from his body in a way that told her he had something to hide. But even if he hadn’t already denied being married, Delaney would have known he wasn’t by the way Phoebe didn’t ask about his significant other. And if he were potentially dangerous, a warning would have been the first thing out of her aunt’s mouth after he’d walked away earlier.

It was the way he pulled back and looked directly into her eyes when he said, “Ask me anything” that told her whatever skeleton hung in his closet didn’t make a damn bit of difference to her.

“Please tell me you fuck as good as you kiss.”

Surprise flashed in his eyes. The almost-arrogant tilt to his mouth gave her another shot of heat between her legs. “Sorry, sugar. I don’t.” His straight white teeth glimmered in the dim light. “I fuck
better
than I kiss.”

She slumped against the building. “Oh, thank God.” Pushing off the wall, she took hold of his hand and started for the sidewalk. “Which way to your house?”

“Left. Then left at the next street. Four up on the left.”

She leaned down and pulled off one heel, then the other. “Left, left, fourth one, left.”

Then started running.

He called her crazy. Told her they were going to trip and break their necks. Said if they hurt themselves, she’d never find out how great he was in bed.

When she reached house number four, she released his hand, took a shortcut across the grass, and jogged the steps to the porch.

“Oh, man,” he called, racing around to the walk and meeting up with her just as she touched the door handle. “You’re such a cheater.”

She was laughing and breathless when his arms wrapped around her waist from behind. Then his mouth closed on her neck, and his hungry moan transitioned into a growl. His hands rose, cupping her breasts, squeezing. Then one gripped her face and turned her head toward her shoulder, where his mouth waited to cover hers while he continued to caress her breasts and his rigid cock rocked against her ass.

Oh, yes.

Yes, yes, yes.
She needed this.

Lust. Pleasure. Escape.

He broke the kiss and spun her around, then lifted her before her brain had stopped twirling and pinned her against the door with his body. He pulled her skirt up to her hips and dragged her legs around him. Then he sank in, pressing his erection against her heat in one solid, luxurious push.

Lust spiked from her pelvis outward. Delaney dropped her head against the door, opened her mouth to tell him she wanted more, but he covered it with his. Kissed her long and slow and deep, coordinating the movement of his tongue with the thrust and roll of his hips.

She turned her head to draw air and fumbled for the door handle. Pressed the lever.

The door opened. She and Ethan fell inward.

“Holy—” He broke their fall with one hand.

Delaney laughed, and while he was still dazed, trying to figure out what happened, she rolled him to his back and straddled him. “Thank God for small towns where no one locks their doors.”

She kicked the door closed and yanked at his belt, barely able to see through her hair falling everywhere.

“Delaney, slow down. We’ve got all night.”

Oh, no.
She wasn’t going to wait all night for what she could get right now. “All night is for second courses, dessert, and leftovers.”

She dodged his hands, pushed his pants out of the way, slipped her hand into his boxer briefs, and . . .

“Oh . . .” She stroked the long, thick, burning length of him, and saliva pooled in her mouth. “Even better than I’d hoped. This will make one mean main course.”

“Baby . . . God, your hands . . .” Ethan’s fingers circled her wrists, and she had to admit she was impressed that he actually tried to pull her hands away. “You’ve gotta slow down.”

“’Kay.” She shimmied back on his thighs. “I’ll slow down.” Releasing his cock, she shifted his boxers aside, and as soon as his muscles relaxed and his fingers loosened on her wrists, she lifted his cock away from his belly and slid him deep into her mouth.

Ethan bucked and swore beneath her. One hand tangled in her hair; the other clawed at the throw rug beneath him so hard it folded into his hand. A powerful thrill surged through her. This was a high all its own. Almost as good as her own orgasm.

“Delaney . . . ,” he scolded through clenched teeth.

She pulled him from her mouth. “I’m slowing down.”

Then she did nothing but circle the ridge of his head with her tongue over and over and over. “You taste so good.”