Smolder (Wildwood 2)

“Say what?” Lane pulled over his cruiser and put the car into Park. Why would West mention Delilah now? And why would it rattle him so much? Maybe because he just saw her? Could still smell her? Shit. “Why would you mention Delilah?”

“Because you like her. And she likes you. So I don’t know what the holdup is. Just go for it.” West hesitated. “You do still like her, right?”

Lane sighed, scrubbing his hand over his face. He didn’t want to talk about his love life—or lack thereof—with his brother. Yes, he and West had grown closer since his younger brother had returned to Wildwood. Yes, they might’ve discussed Delilah a time or two.

But right now, he didn’t want to talk about her. He shouldn’t even want to think about her. He liked being alone, damn it.

The last time he had a steady girlfriend in his life, she’d given him nothing but grief. Jessica had worried too damn much about his job and the danger it put him in. Considering he patrolled a town that was on the small side and most of the complaints he took involved squabbling neighbors and teen vandals, he’d thought Jess’s reaction was a bit over the top. She hadn’t thought so though. A year into the relationship, she’d given him an ultimatum. It was either her or his job.

He chose the job.

They’d split up, and Jess left Wildwood a few weeks later. He hadn’t heard from her since.

“She’s a friend,” Lane finally said, his voice firm. “I wish everyone would remember that and stop pushing her on me.”

West out and out laughed. “Fine. I’ll remember that, bro. Don’t you worry. See you tomorrow night. Come around seven. And bring your favorite beer.”

With that, his pain-in-the-ass brother hung up on him.

Chapter Two

DELILAH WORE HER shortest shorts. Her skimpiest—and cutest—strappy summer top, one that showed off plenty of skin. She wore her hair up, exposing even more skin, and her makeup was on point. As in, she had a major cat eye going on that she’d practiced over and over again until she got it just right, thank you very much. Plus she’d slicked on the deep red lipstick that she’d let Harper borrow on her mission to seduce West.

When she’d returned it, Harper had told her that he’d appreciated the lipstick. And now, for some crazed reason, she was hoping Lane might appreciate the lipstick too.

Like the lust-crazed woman she was, she’d already forgotten about her vow to forget Lane. How could she forget him? It wasn’t just lust that drove her. She cared about the man, had known him forever, and truly believed she understood him.

Well. Somewhat. She didn’t understand why he wouldn’t just let go and actually see if they could become . . . something.

She’d told herself she should give up. He was a waste of her time. Chasing after a man who didn’t want you was like getting kicked in the teeth over and over again. She should know better. If her friends had been doing something like this, she’d have told them in no uncertain terms that they were idiots.

So she was an idiot who needed to stop pursuing Lane. Yet here she was, doing exactly the opposite of that, hoping against hope that he’d show up soon so he could get a long gander at what he was missing.

Frowning, she glanced around West and Harper’s crowded backyard. Yep, stupid Lane Gallagher wasn’t even here yet, but that was okay. She knew how to distract herself. More than once she spotted some random guy casting an appreciative glance in her direction. She didn’t recognize most of them, which was a bonus. After living in the same small town her entire life, she felt like she knew every stupid guy within five to seven years of her age.

Might’ve dated most of them too.

Whoops.

But when pickings are slim, as her mother used to say, you go with what you know. Her parents had both grown up in Wildwood too. Her mother had more than one story of seeing her dad pee his pants in preschool, pick his nose in kindergarten, and eat glue straight out of the jar in second grade.

Somehow, she still ended up marrying the man.

Lane was older, so Delilah hadn’t spent much time with him during the elementary school years, or middle school either. Only in high school did she finally have him in an elective class. They’d been on the yearbook staff together, and they’d spent many a day after school working on it. It was the first time she’d really talked to him without West or Wren around.

And she’d grown to like him. A lot. She liked his eyes. His laugh. The way he looked at her, like he might find her attractive but he wasn’t going to act on it. That meant he was a gentleman, though she hadn’t realized it then. No, back then it had been the forbidden element that was alluring, not so much the gentleman part.

As time passed, she sort of hated that gentlemanly part of him. The fact that he never acted on his feelings for her only left her frustrated.

Back in the day, she’d even made fun of Lane behind his back with West, but it had never sat right. It wasn’t such a bad thing that Lane was a stand-up guy. West had been the rebel, so of course he was going to bag on his well-behaved big brother. It was a natural reaction.

Glancing over her shoulder, she looked for Lane yet again but there was still no sign of him. Instead, one unfamiliar guy kept giving her the stare every time she glanced in his direction. He was attractive. Tall with a nice set of shoulders; short, dark-blond hair; blazing hazel eyes; and a jaw that could cut granite. If she wasn’t so hung up on Lane, she could totally go for this guy. He had an intensity that positively radiated and she could admit . . .

She liked them intense. Example number one? Hello, Lane.

Ugh. Lane. Her emotions were all over the place right now. One minute she was fine that he wasn’t here yet and the next, she was so irritated she wanted to string him up by his toes. Where was he? She knew he wasn’t working. Harper had mentioned that he’d be there but they were more than two hours into this little gathering West and Harper had organized and so far, he hadn’t shown up.

The jerk.