Jealousy rode Lane hard as he watched them, not liking the way the man looked at Delilah like maybe he was interested. Lane didn’t recognize him. Had never seen the asshole in his life, and he remembered his plan of only a moment ago. The one that had him seeking out a girl he didn’t know for some mindless fucking.
What if Delilah did that? What if she took this joker back to her place and fucked him for the rest of the night? What if she’d given up on Lane and was moving on? He wouldn’t blame her. He’d given her no reason to believe he was going to make a move. Why the hell did the idea of making a move on Delilah terrify him so much?
Commitment in general scared the hell out of him, and he knew without a doubt that Delilah was the type of woman to whom a man gave his all. She wouldn’t have it any other way. Hell, she deserved the best kind of treatment and the best kind of man.
Problem was, Lane didn’t believe he was that man.
“Who’s that?” Lane asked West, nodding toward the jackass talking to Delilah before he turned to face his brother.
“Ah, that’s the arson investigator I told you about. Josh Bailey.” West glanced in Josh and Delilah’s direction. “Looks like he’s getting cozy with our Dee.”
Everything inside him bunched up like a fist, threatening to burst free. “He needs to leave her alone.”
“Why, so you can make a move on her instead? Like that’s ever going to happen.” West actually snorted, then slapped Lane on the back. “I’m
headed outside. I suggest you do the same.”
Lane didn’t move when West left him. He knew he should hightail his ass outside and find someone to talk with. Drink a few beers, share a few jokes and trade a few stories, and then guzzle some water to help sober him up before he headed home, ending yet another fun night all alone.
He knew he should do all of that, but he couldn’t move. Couldn’t stop swigging from his beer either, polishing it off in a few long swallows. Couldn’t stop staring at Delilah, greedily eating her up with his eyes. The skimpy white top with little straps crisscrossing across her back, showing off plenty of smooth skin . . . The tiny shorts that rode way too high on her thighs and showed off those sexy-as-fuck legs . . .
God, those legs. They’d had a starring role in his sweaty, lust-fueled dreams more than once. Spreading wide when he put his head between them. Wrapping around his hips as he plunged deep. He’d imagined taking Delilah approximately one million different ways over the past few years, and that still wasn’t enough. He wanted her. But it could never be anything serious. Never. Just fucking.
And she deserved more than that. More than what he could ever give her, that was for sure.
The sound of her soft laughter broke through his lust-induced spell and he shook his head, wishing he could shake her from his brain that easily. She was actually reaching out toward that Josh asshole, her hand on his chest, her head tipped back as she studied his face. Like maybe she enjoyed what she saw, what she heard, what she felt.
Grimacing, Lane turned and fled the kitchen, heading outside like the hounds of hell were nipping at his heels.
For once in his life, he wished he’d taken his brother’s advice.
Chapter Three
SHE’D SUNK TO a new low. Flirting with a nice man for the sole purpose of making another not-so-nice man jealous. How lame could she get?
Worse, she was dying of curiosity. Had her plan worked? Delilah couldn’t be 100 percent sure, but she’d caught the menacing scowl on Lane’s face just before he bolted outside. And she knew one thing.
He’d looked incredibly pissed.
Mad at her though? Well, if he was, then he could suck it. But if he was angry because she was talking to an unknown, rather attractive man who actually seemed interested in her? Well, then good. Perfect. That was exactly what she wanted.
Maybe her behavior was considered calculating, but she couldn’t help herself. Her feelings for Lane Gallagher and his lack of acknowledgment made her do really stupid things. She needed to focus on the here and now, not stress over a man she had no control of.
“How long are you here for?” she asked Josh to keep her mind off Lane. She’d been chatting up Josh for the past ten minutes and found him a tad reserved but friendly enough. The reserved part she blamed on his job occupation. Being an arson investigator meant having to deal with suspicious—and guilty—people all the time. Josh probably wasn’t big on trust, much like Lane. Being a cop meant he dealt with the liars and the dirty, dirty cheats of the world every single freaking day . . .
“I’m here for as long as I’m needed.” Josh smiled, bringing his beer bottle close to his lips. “Much of it depends on the investigation,” he added before he took a drink.
She watched him, quietly fuming that she thought of Lane—again—and wishing she could find this guy so outrageously attractive that he obliterated every thought from her head.
Not that he was a dog. No way. Women were going to trip over their tongues following this guy around town. New, handsome men were always welcomed. When West had first returned to Wildwood a few months ago, she’d known all the single women aged twenty to thirty-five were eager to welcome him home with open arms. But he’d immediately staked his claim on Harper, breaking many hearts.
Well, they were about to get their hopes up all over again when they caught sight of Josh. Fresh meat, they’d call him. He might end up regretting coming to Wildwood—or he might have the time of his life.
“So tell me.” His voice knocked her from her thoughts and she glanced up, offering him a polite smile. “What’s there to do around this town?”
“Not a whole lot,” she said almost apologetically. She could only imagine how small and maybe even pitiful her hometown might look to someone who’d never been here before. “Though if you like spending time outdoors, this is the place for you.”
“I saw the lake,” he said. “Made me wish I had a boat.”