Smolder: The Wildwood Series (17 page)

“One minute I want you more than anything and the next I want to run away from you as fast as I can. You make me feel . . . too much.” He hesitated, took a deep breath before he seemed to decide to go for it. “My parents are—screwed up. That’s the example I had as a kid, and their relationship doesn’t come close to normal. My dad treated my mom so bad, treated all of us bad, and I hated it. Hated him.”

“I know,” she admitted softly, earning a look from him. “I was around your house when I was a teenager. My family has always known yours. I saw what happened.”

“Yeah.” He hung his head, linked his hands together. “After everything my dad did, I swore I would never commit to a serious relationship. I was scared I’d end up just like him and I didn’t want to put a woman I supposedly loved through what my dad did to my mom. I figured it was easier to remain alone than find someone and ruin her. I didn’t want to ruin her. I didn’t want to ruin—you.”

She remained quiet, her throat tight, and wondered if Wayne Gallagher was aware of the lifelong damaged he’d inflicted on his children because of the casual choices he’d made.

“But after spending so much time alone with my crazy thoughts this past week, I realized that I was just hurting myself, thinking like that. I had the perfect woman wanting to be in my life and I kept pushing her away. It wasn’t fair to you and really, it wasn’t fair to me either. I’m not my father. And you’re not my mother. We’re two different people, and I hope I can learn from their mistakes so I don’t repeat them.” He turned to fully face her, his gaze dark and serious. “I realized it earlier when we were arguing about the raccoons, Dee. It was stupid of me, denying myself and denying you. I don’t know why I keep pushing you away when you’re the only thing that’s truly bright in my life. Without you I’m nothing.”

“That’s not true . . . ” she started to say but he shook his head.

“It is. I’m a grumpy asshole no one wants to be around if I don’t have you. I’ve denied my feelings for far too long and I’m done. I need you, Dee. I need you in my life. I don’t want to lose you.”

Her heart felt as if it swelled to three times its size at his declaration. “Oh, Lane.”

He rushed on, not letting her talk. “And I understand if you don’t want to be with me after how awfully I’ve treated you. All I can ask is for you to give me another chance. If you give me that chance, I promise that I’ll spend the rest of my days proving to you just how much I care about you. How much I—I love you.”

His voice was earnest, his gaze full of fear at what he’d just admitted, and she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms tight around his neck and kissing him with everything she had.

“I love you too, you maddening, infuriating, stubborn man,” she murmured against his lips, smiling when he chuckled, his big, strong arms coming around her to clutch her to him. She thrust her fingers in his hair, pulling down his head so their lips were close. Kissing close. “We’ve wasted enough time circling each other, don’t you think?”

“Hell yeah,” he said just before he kissed her again. Taking the kiss deeper this time, with plenty of heat and tongue, until she was pushing at his shoulders to get him to stop. “What?” he asked irritably when she broke the kiss.

“I’m starving.” She grinned up at him, and he shook his head though he didn’t look mad. No, he looked like a man who was completely in love with her. His eyes glowed, his smile was soft, and she knew without a doubt that this man—the man who drove her crazy and frustrated the crap out of her—was the very man she was madly, passionately in love with. “Let’s go eat. We can resume all this kissing stuff later.”

“You promise?” he asked, raising a brow.

She leaned in to kiss him one more time. “Most definitely.”

Epilogue

L
ANE PUT HIS
truck into Park and shut off the engine, turning to look at Delilah sitting in the passenger seat. “You ready for this?”

She smiled softly at him, her eyes glowing in the waning sunlight. He’d never seen her look so pretty. Her hair was pulled up into a high ponytail, a few dark brown tendrils curling around her face. She wore a pale pink sleeveless dress that fit her perfectly. She looked . . . elegant. Classy. Definitely not like a woman who’d be with a guy like him.

“I’m ready,” she said, lifting her chin, the little show of determination reminding him that he’d chosen the perfect girl for him after all. “How about you?”

“I’m ready.” He blew out a harsh breath, trying to expel the nervousness that threatened to take over him. Was he ready to face his parents? Face his entire family with Delilah by his side? He hoped no one gave him a bunch of shit. He’d already warned West, who’d claimed he wasn’t about to start anything tonight. Holden was bringing his girlfriend, Kirsten, so he’d be on his best behavior too.

Wren was the only single one of the bunch, and he doubted she’d give him any grief.

It had taken a little longer than their mother originally planned, but they were all going to eat under one roof tonight. His mom was beyond excited, but Dad hadn’t seemed too thrilled. Neither were his brothers or sister.

But they were doing this for their mom. And maybe, just maybe, they were doing it for each other. To help the Gallagher family heal.

“Let’s go then,” Delilah said. She went to turn toward her door so she could open it, but he grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her to him, sealing his mouth over hers for a quick, courage-seeking kiss.

But as usual it turned into more. He touched her cheek. She rested her hands on his chest. He deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue into her mouth, and she responded in kind. Until she was practically trying to crawl on top of him and he had to grab hold of her arms to stop her.

“We’re getting out of hand,” he reminded her, “in my parents’ driveway.”

She smiled and settled back into the passenger seat, smoothing her hands down the front of her skirt. “You have a way of doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Making me forget myself.” She glanced over her shoulder when a car’s engine rumbled behind them, a smile brightening her face. “Oh, good. West and Harper are here.”

She climbed out of the truck before he could stop her, and he followed, slamming the driver’s side door and shoving his keys in the front pocket of his jeans.

West and Harper approached them hand in hand like a united front. Harper was smiling. West was scowling. Lane could relate. He knew his brother was, out of all of them, the one least looking forward to this family-filled night. West was even more reluctant than he was.

“I can’t believe I’m here,” he muttered as a greeting to Lane.

Lane clapped his brother on the back. “It won’t be so bad.”

“Got any whiskey?” West asked hopefully. “I bet that’ll get me through.”

“Stop,” Harper said, letting go of his hand so they could link arms. “You’re going to be just fine.” She leaned her head against his shoulder, and he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“You two are adorable,” Delilah said, curling her arm around Lane’s.

“So are you and Lane,” Harper said with a grin. “I love this.”

“Me too,” Delilah said, smiling up at Lane.

He got a little lost in her dark eyes for a moment, wishing he could tell her that he loved her, but he kept his mouth shut. He didn’t want to give his brother any ammunition. Didn’t want anyone to know what a lovesick fool Delilah had turned him into. That was their private secret.

One he wanted to keep between the two of them.

“Let’s go,” she said to him, and he nodded once, turned toward the front porch, and led the way, Delilah by his side, West and Harper falling in behind them.

Lane felt good. He felt strong. He had his woman with him. His brother and Harper. Wren was already inside and Holden would be here any minute. They were giving this family thing a go once again and he had high hopes.

With the woman by his side how could he go wrong?

“It’s going to be fine, you know,” she whispered as they walked up the steps.

“You think so?” he asked.

“I know so,” she said firmly. “We’ll be fine as long as we have each other.”

He stopped her at the top of the steps, giving her a quick kiss and earning an irritated mutter from West. He ignored his brother and smiled at Delilah. “Thank you.”

She frowned up at him. “For what?”

“For reading my mind. For knowing what I need. For loving me.” He kissed her again, not caring if he was giving his brother any ammunition after all. Screw it. He was with the woman he loved.

“I do love you,” she said with a smile, tugging on his arm. “Now stop procrastinating and let’s get inside.”

Lane laughed and opened the screen door for Delilah.

His girl knew him far too well.

Want more sinfully hot firefighters?

Don’t miss the next fun and sexy Wildwood novel . . .

TORCH

Coming August 2016 from Avon Impulse.

Preorder it here
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Read on for a sneak peek!

An Excerpt from

TORCH

“W
HEN DID YOUR
eyes get so green?”

He turned to stare at her, stunned by her question. Stunned even more by the dreamy expression on her face as she stared at him like she wanted to . . . gobble him up? “What did you just say?” he asked carefully.

“Your eyes.” She waved a hand in their general direction and he couldn’t help but let his gaze drop to her chest. She had a nice one and he was always trying to sneak a peek. Now he just blatantly stared. “They’re so green. Like your beer.”

Jerking his gaze away from her tits, Tate grabbed the bottle and held it to his lips, taking a drink before he said, “The beer isn’t green, Blue Jay. But the bottle is.”

“You know what I mean.” She waved her hand again, nearly smacking him in the jaw. “They’re very sparkly.” When he looked at her like she was crazy, she clarified, “Your eyes.”

“They are?”

“Oh yeah.” She nodded, a giggle slipping past her lips. “Sparkly and green and so very pretty.”

His entire body went warm and his dick twitched. Huh. He’d had women tell him he had nice eyes. His mother had always raved about his eyes when he was a kid, even going so far as to force him to wear green shirts to “bring out the color in your eyes”. This wasn’t an unusual compliment.

No, what was unusual was his reaction to it. Maybe it was the way Wren watched him. Or the way she seemed to sway toward him as she spoke, like there was a magnetic force pulling them closer together. One she couldn’t fight no matter how hard she tried.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice low as he contemplated her, skimming the length of her before his gaze returned to hers. “You have very, very pretty eyes too.”

Those very pretty eyes widened in surprise and she pressed her lips together, blinking rapidly. “Seriously?”

Tate nodded, wondering why she’d doubt him. Then again, she would, what with the way they gave each other endless grief. “Definitely. Hasn’t anyone ever told you that before?”

“Not really. You certainly haven’t.”

“I just did,” he reminded her, making her roll her eyes.

Ah, there was the Wren he knew.

She shrugged and turned toward the bar, grabbing her drink, disappointment written all over her face when she realized it was empty. “I should probably go.”

“You wouldn’t let me leave,” he pointed out. “So I think you should stay. Keep me company.”

“What are you doing here anyway?”

That was a good question. Sitting at home on his first full day off in what felt like forever, he’d been bored. Restless. So he’d hopped in his SUV and drove around town, but soon got bored with that too. He didn’t know what he wanted, what he was looking for, but the moment he entered the bar and saw the back of Wren’s head, he knew it was her.

And his night got magically better. Just like that.

“Bored,” he answered truthfully. “Thought I’d stop by and grab a drink.”

She gave him a look. “Really? Don’t tell me this is your deep dark secret. That you come hang out here on your nights off and drink yourself into oblivion.”

“Never.” He polished off the beer and nodded at Russ, the old bartender who also happened to own the place. “Bring the lady another one too,” he told him.

Russ frowned. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

That earned another eye roll from Wren. “Come on, Russ. You’re not my dad.”

“Thank God for that, child.” Russ shook his head as he approached them. “She’s already had three,” he told Tate.

“And I’d like another, please.” She hiccupped, bouncing on the stool and Tate couldn’t help but think she looked kinda cute. And kinda inebriated. “Come on, Russ. Don’t be such a party pooper,” she whined.

“I’ll take care of her,” Tate said quietly, his words for Russ only. “Make sure she gets home safe.”

“You sure about that? I’ve known this girl since she was three and liked to eat dirt pies for dessert.” The pointed look Russ sent him was loud and clear. He’d entrust Wren to Tate’s keeping but he’d better keep his hands to himself.

Wren groaned and shook her head. “Why would you go and say that?” Her gaze met Tate’s and she tried her best to look sincere. “I swear I never ate dirt.”

The harrumph noise Russ made as he went to mix her a fresh drink said otherwise.

“Your secret’s safe with me, Seagull.” Chuckling, Tate reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her soft skin. She sucked in an audible breath, her blue eyes going wide, her lips parting. They were pink. And damp. Her cheeks were rosy—he’d bet money that was alcohol induced—and her gaze seemed to—again—gobble him up. Like she enjoyed his touch. Like she wanted more of it.

He had to be seeing things. Reading something into nothing. No way did Wren Gallagher
want
him.

Did she?

About the Author

USA Today
bestselling author
KAREN ERICKSON
writes what she loves to read—sexy contemporary romance. Published since 2006, she’s a native Californian who lives in the foothills below Yosemite with her husband and three children. She also writes as
New York Times
and
USA Today
bestselling author Monica Murphy. You can find her at
www.karenerickson.com
.

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