The Wildwood: Smolder Part 8

Man, was she going to be p.i.s.sed that he had to leave? Or would she understand? This was his life. His job kept him busy at all hours of the day. It never shut off. Would Delilah understand? Or would she resent his commitment to his job? His career would have to come first.

Always.

But he shouldnt put this on her. What if she not only accepted his att.i.tude, accepted him, but also encouraged him to be a better man? He always thought that sort of thing was a myth. That people werent really made for each other. That always sounded like a crock of s.h.i.t, especially since his parents were his shining example of a relationship growing up.

For some strange reason though, he had a feeling Delilah might be the perfect girl for him.

Chapter Nine.

LANE HAD LEFT her high and dry, and Delilah had no one to complain to.

She sat in her office at the studio, staring at her phone. She wanted to call someone to vent. Express all of her feelings and be rea.s.sured that everything was going to be all right. Really, she wanted to talk to Wren. But she couldnt.

No way could she imagine going to Wren and saying, Oh yeah, Lane and I were really going at it, and I was minutes away from coming all over his face when we were rudely interrupted"by a call from West. Then he had to leave. Sucks, right?

Yeah. That wouldnt go over too well. Wren would be shocked and horrified. Delilah was too mortified to even mention that she and Lane had kissed last night, let alone gotten naked with each other. Not that she was mortified because something had finally happened between her and Lane. She just didnt want to discuss the specific details with one of her best friends"and Lanes sister.

Her body hummed at the memory though. She was still strung tight and shed had all night to sleep on it. Though she hadnt slept much. Shed tossed and turned, her mind full of Lane. Naked Lane. Rude Lane. Dirty-mouthed, Im-going-to-f.u.c.k-you-hard Lane whod ultimately turned into tender, sweet Im-going-to-make-you-come-so-hard-and-youre-gonna-like-it Lane.

Until hed had to leave.

Delilah had watched in disbelief from the middle of Lanes giant bed as hed roamed around his bedroom, sliding on a pair of jeans"sans underwear, which she found incredibly s.e.xy"and a Wildwood County Sheriffs Department T-shirt before he came over to where she sat and dropped a kiss on her forehead.

I hate that I have to leave, hed said, regret burning bright in his blue eyes. Hed cupped her cheek, his gaze dipping down, lingering on her bare chest. Id rather finish what we started.

Shed stared up at him, believing every word he said, trying her best to understand why he had to leave. He had a job to do. A town to protect. She might be disappointed that he had to leave but she sort of loved n.o.ble Lane and the dedication he showed toward the job.

We can finish another time, shed rea.s.sured, earning a big smile from him in return.

Howd I know youd say that? hed murmured just before he leaned in and kissed her, his lips lingering. Within seconds, the kiss became hotter. Deeper. Shed finally pushed him away because they were bound to get out of control in a matter of minutes.

Once shed slipped on her dress"somehow her panties had gone missing"Lane had escorted her out to her car, giving her another one of those spine-tingling kisses before he practically shoved her into the drivers seat and told her to go home. Hed texted her later to make sure she made it there all right, but otherwise, she hadnt heard a word from him. For all she knew, he was still out on the scene of the fire or maybe back at the sheriffs office. She had no clue.

He was a total workaholic, much like her. That explained why she was at the studio before ten in the morning when she didnt need to be there until around noon. Shed been anxious and antsy at home so she sat at her desk, going over some paperwork Wren had been nagging at her to review for the past month. Considering her attention span was shot to h.e.l.l and she was exhausted from lack of sleep, Delilah wouldve much rather been dancing than staring at an endless stack of boring papers about quarterly taxes and profits and losses.

So she danced.

She turned on the music, cranked up the volume, and began to stretch, staring at her reflection in the wall of mirrors opposite her. Dancers had no problem continuously watching themselves in a mirror. They had to, to make sure their lines looked right, their toes were pointed, and their posture was straight. Some called them vain, and once upon a time, that had offended Delilah beyond reason, when she was younger and took everything as an insult.

But now, she shrugged it off. No one understood unless they were a dancer. She liked watching herself move, would laugh when she did something wrong or silently cheer when she nailed a difficult landing. The mirror was her freaking friend, d.a.m.n it, and she owned that friendship.

If that meant she was vain, then so be it.

Once her muscles felt loose and warm, she grabbed her phone and scrolled through her list of songs until she found the one her advanced hip-hop cla.s.s had been practicing to lately. Turning up the volume, she set her phone on a nearby bench and started to move, losing herself to the music, to the lyrics, until her heads.p.a.ce was clear and all she could do was dance. It felt good, to forget, just for a little while. No real-life intrusions, just her and the music all by herself. She started to sing along to the lyrics, her awful voice ringing loud, and she smiled at herself in the mirror . . . until she caught a glimpse of someone standing in the middle of the waiting room.

Watching her.

Delilah whirled around to find Lane standing there, his arms crossed, biceps bulging, an amused yet exhausted expression on his handsome face. She ran over to grab her phone and paused the music before she turned to face him once more.

What are you doing here?

He entered the enclosed studio, his heavy footsteps echoing in the otherwise empty room. Watching you.

She wiped at her sweaty forehead. G.o.d, she must look a mess. How long?

Long enough to confirm you cant sing for c.r.a.p. He grinned and she reached out to shove him. He caught her wrist before she could make contact with his chest, which was probably for the best since she would have just grabbed hold of his shirt and pulled him in for a kiss. Seriously, Dee. That was bad.

I thought I was alone. She disentangled herself from his grip, uneasy with the way her skin tingled where he touched her. Now that she knew how he kissed, had experienced his mouth on her body, in the most intimate of places, she felt . . . weird. Not weird in a bad way. More like weird in a how-fast-can-I-get-Lane-naked way.

I really only just walked in. Saw your car parked out front and wanted to make sure you were okay. He sent her one of those stern s.e.xy looks that both irritated and melted her every time. You left the door unlocked. Again.

She shrugged. I forgot. Besides, its no big deal. The town was small. She always left the door unlocked. Wildwood was safe.

In the summer it always gets worse around here. His gaze met hers. There was a break-in at Hillside a few nights ago.

Shut up. She gaped at him. The Hillside Market sat opposite the studio, on the other side of the parking lot. Did you catch them?

Nah. Figured it was just kids, but still. I dont like you keeping the door unlocked when you dont have cla.s.ses going on. I mean it, Dee. I dont want anything to happen to you or your place of business.

Aw, Im touched that youre so concerned. She really was but she also liked giving him a hard time. And he knew it too. Did you get any sleep?

Im headed home now to crash out. He made a face. Then I need to stop by my parents house.

Do you want me to go with you when you see your mom? Just for moral support? She didnt want to seem too forward but he might need someone to lean on. Not that it was any of her business, but still. Shed known the Gallaghers for what felt like her entire life. His mom had been nothing but kind to her since she was a little girl. She didnt like the idea of her suffering or sick.

Delilah didnt like the idea of Lane suffering either.

I appreciate the offer, but I think I need to go this alone. Or maybe Ill ask Wren. He rested his hand on her bare shoulder and gave it a squeeze. His fingers teased the thick strap of her sports bra. You understand, right? Its nothing against you, Dee. I promise. Its just"

I understand, she interrupted, offering him a brief smile. She did. This was a family matter. He squeezed her shoulder again, and her skin went hot. Her nipples pebbled beneath the tight sports bra she wore"and that was all she wore besides her cropped black leggings.

And of course, Lane noticed, his gaze dropping to her chest and lingering there yet again. He tugged on her shoulder, not saying a word, and she took a step toward him. Then another, until she b.u.mped up against him and his other hand snuck beneath her chin, tilting her face up . . .

Yoo-hoo! What are you doing here so early? Wren called, the heavy front door slamming behind her.

Lane and Delilah sprang away from each other, and she hoped like crazy she didnt look as guilty as she felt. I should ask you the same question, she said as Wren entered the studio.

Wren stopped short when she saw the two of them standing in the middle of the studio, and she shot Lane a questioning glance. Whats up?

Just checking on Dee. He nodded in Delilahs direction as he turned toward Wren. Making sure everythings okay.

And everythings fine, Delilah said, flashing Wren a bright smile. Really.

Wren remained quiet, her expression full of suspicion. Not that Delilah could blame her. They were acting fairly obvious what with the way Lane wouldnt even look at her. And she wouldnt look at him.

And her nipples were probably still telling a story too, because it definitely wasnt cold in the studio. Not by a long shot.

Funny thing was, they didnt need to hide anything from Wren. Well, Delilah didnt. Wren knew how she felt. But Lane wasnt telling anyone how he felt.

Not even Delilah. And it drove her crazy.

Ill talk to you later? Lane sent her a pointed look.

Shivery tingles swept over her skin as she nodded and smiled softly. Bye, Lane.

Bye, Delilah. He started to leave but stopped, turning to look at Wren. Im going over to Mom and Dads later. You want to come with me?

Um . . . Wrens voice drifted, and Delilah wanted to kick her. She needed to be there for her brother and their mom. Do you really want me to?

I dont know if I want to do this alone. Mom will probably respond better if were there together, he answered, breaking Delilahs heart. Hed always had a soft spot for his mom, even though their relationship had suffered the past few years.

Okay. Wren blew out a harsh breath, her expression pained. Ill go.

The relief on Lanes face was evident. Ill text you. I need to get a few hours of sleep in first. He nodded toward both of them. See you both later.

He said those last words like a promise directed right at Delilah, and her heart pounded furiously as he left the building. Luckily, Wren went to her desk without a word.

Leaving Delilah to stare dreamily off into s.p.a.ce for far too long, over a man who, up until a few hours ago, had been seemingly unattainable.

For once in her life, she finally felt like she had a shot at having something real with Lane.

I WISH YOUD talked to Mom yesterday, Wren said when she climbed into Lanes car a few hours later.

Well, h.e.l.lo to you too. Something came up. He didnt bother telling her exactly what"his d.i.c.k when it first caught sight of Delilah cooking dinner in his kitchen. Or his heartbeat as it kicked into high gear watching her hips sway beneath that pretty little dress. Of course all that had happened only after hed drawn his freaking gun on her, which he still couldnt believe. The girl had nerve, hed give her that.

And a pretty little body. Sweet lips. His c.o.c.k had ached for hours after hed left her. Hed wandered around the fire scene in a daze, half listening to what Josh, the a.s.shole prevention officer, had to say about the accelerant that was used to start the fire. Some sort of modified half-a.s.s version of a Molotov c.o.c.ktail, and didnt that scare the h.e.l.l out of all of them?

Their town was under siege by an unknown arsonist, and Lane wanted to get to the bottom of it. He had his own theories and more than a few local suspects he wanted to talk to. And hed told everyone that too, much to the prevention guys disgust.

When Josh had told him that it wasnt Lanes call, that it wasnt even under his jurisdiction to question anyone, and that he needed to let the professionals handle it"direct quote"Lane had been quietly furious. West had immediately sent him packing.

Go to bed, man. Its your day off. You dont need to be here listening to this guy. Hes only making you mad and thats the last thing you need.

Hed tried to take his brothers advice but hed been too keyed up, too p.i.s.sed off. Hed gone back to the deputy station for a while, going through paperwork, checking emails, listening to voice mails. The building was quiet, and hed actually caught up on his workload, which always suffered. Feeling somewhat satisfied, hed left the office a few hours later, ready to crash out.

But when hed driven by the tiny strip mall where Delilahs dance studio was located and saw her car sitting out front, hed automatically turned into the parking lot, parking next to her Civic and growling with frustration when he pulled the studio door handle and found it unlocked.

Wren snapped her fingers in front of his face, startling him. h.e.l.lo, anybody in there?

Lane sent her an irritated look and threw the car into Drive, pulling out into the street. Hed stopped by to pick her up before they went to their parents house, and clearly she was irritated. Wren probably didnt want to have this little meeting with Mom.

Welcome to the club. Neither did he.

Seriously, Lane. What happened that you couldnt talk to her yesterday? Why are you dragging me into this? Wren asked.

He didnt want to tell her about Delilahs surprise visit. I got called out on something last night. And arent you the one who originally dragged me into this? Im doing you a favor, he pointed out as he turned down the main drag that ran through the center of town. Their parents lived on the opposite side of the lake, so they were in for a fifteen-minute drive as long as traffic wasnt heavy, which it might be. And if their hostile conversation continued like this, he was going to be good and mad by the time they made it to Mom and Dads.

Wren sighed and stared out the pa.s.senger side window. Id wanted to avoid it.

He snorted. Right. Of course you did. They all left the big, ugly jobs to him. The big brother. The savior of the family. Wearing that responsibility all the time was a drag. He sort of hated it.

Fine. Most of the time, he really hated it.

It scares me, Lane, she admitted, her voice soft, her head averted. What if something is really wrong with her?

Then well help out and do the best we can, Lane answered. That was all they could do.

What if thats not good enough? She turned to look at him.

I dont know what you want me to say. s.h.i.t. He wasnt good at this emotional stuff. He didnt know how to comfort his sister.

I dont want to fall apart in front of her, Lane. Thats why I was trying to avoid this. She turned away from him once more, staring out the window. But you wouldnt understand.

Great. Now she was mad. Sad. The whole deal. He didnt know what to say to her.

So he said nothing.

When Wren remained quiet for the next five minutes"completely unheard of for his overly talkative sister"he finally broke the ice.

When we get there, Ill do all the talking. You can be my moral support.

She sent him a wary glance. That sounds like a good plan.

Tell me your concerns. Give me the rundown.

So Wren went over everything again. Telling Lane about their mom looking pale all the time. That she was thinner and had lost her appet.i.te. That she complained about not feeling good and was tired.

Lane had done some research on the web, though not much because any time he looked up symptoms on the Internet, he always ended up convinced someone was dying. Hed been a little calmer while looking up things about middle-aged women though. At least, hed tried to be. Maybe she has an iron deficiency. Or maybe shes going through . . . menopause. He wouldnt doubt it. Wren had a way of overdramatizing things, and their mother was closemouthed about everything. It was like Wren went in the complete opposite direction.

Wren made a face. I hope its that simple. But why wouldnt she tell me if thats what it was?

Maybe shes embarra.s.sed. h.e.l.l, he had no idea. Thats why he wanted Wren with him. If the problem really was woman stuff, he wouldnt know what to say. And he couldnt bring Delilah into it, though he was glad that shed offered to accompany him. Lane appreciated the gesture and all, but she didnt need to deal with their family drama. Not that Delilah was a stranger to it.

Lane frowned. He hoped she wasnt mad that he turned down her offer only to ask Wren to accompany him instead. Surely she understood. Shed been so agreeable when hed had to leave her. Christ, he didnt like thinking about it. Made his blood hot remembering what theyd been doing just before they were rudely interrupted . . .

d.a.m.n it, he needed to focus. Thinking about Delilah was dangerous. Distracting.

I just hope Moms honest with us. Wren hesitated. Shes pretty good at keeping secrets.

Yeah. She was. And so was their father. Their rocky relationship was something Lane had never really understood. They were a terrible example for what a healthy marriage should look like. The arguing, the cheating, the lies. All of it had messed with Lanes head when he was younger. It had messed with all their heads, even though Wren and Holden seemed fairly well adjusted. But they were younger and Lane and West had always protected them the most.

Lane had also protected West, not that hed ever tell his brother that. West preferred to think he was the macho, tortured one of the family whod borne the rotten legacy of their parents c.r.a.p relationship"and as a result, was incapable of having a normal one. But Lane was the true owner of that particularly s.h.i.tty prize. West had found Harper, whod turned his life around. Lane was still alone.