Smolder (Wildwood 2) - Page 8

“You could always rent one . . . for a very steep price.” The marinas always jacked up the prices during the summer months.

“I’ll pass. Though one of these guys here must have a boat, right?” Josh glanced around and so did Delilah, noting there was no one in the kitchen with them. Everyone was outside.

Her spine stiffened when she realized they were alone, though Josh wasn’t giving her any weird vibes. She just wasn’t a huge fan of being alone with unfamiliar men.

Scratch that. She wasn’t used to being alone with unfamiliar men.

Almost everyone she’d ever dated, spent time with, or whatever, she’d known through school, a mutual friend, a family member, or whomever. Small towns bred familiarity. “Yeah, a few of the guys own boats.”

“Which ones? I’ll buddy up with them so they can take me out on the lake while I’m here.” He laughed. She knew he was making a joke, but the only guy who came to mind was . . .

Lane. And last she’d noticed, he’d looked ready to tear Josh’s arms off. “Come with me outside and I’ll introduce you to a few of them.”

Not really. She planned on dumping Josh on West and then getting out of there. Going home so she could lick her self-inflicted wounds. She’d spent the past few hours quietly waiting for Lane to show up and the minute he had, he hadn’t said a word to her. Not that he could have, what with her flirting game and how she’d made sure she was occupied the entire time he’d lingered in the kitchen. Not her proudest moment . . . but crap.

She’d become a desperate woman acting like a lovesick teenager. And she was really starting to get sick of herself.

Making sure she was on her best behavior, she led Josh out to the backyard and left him with West, who happened to be standing with a bunch of other firefighters. Perfect. They could all talk shop and she could get the hell out of there. She sought out Harper, who was with Wren, and hugged both of her best friends, telling them she’d text them both tomorrow. And then she made a beeline for the house, stopping off in the guest bathroom real quick before she went home.

After washing her hands and smoothing damp hands over her ponytail to calm her frizzy hair, she opened the door and stepped out of the bathroom.

Only to collide with a solid wall of firm, warm muscle.

Delilah stumbled backward. Her heart rose to her throat when she stared into Lane’s face. His jaw was clenched, his usually full mouth a hard, thin line, and his eyes blazed with all sorts of emotions she didn’t want to name.

She parted her lips but no sound came. Cleared her throat. Made a second attempt. A third. Finally the words fell from her lips. “Excuse me.”

He didn’t budge. When he stood this close, she was always reminded just how big he was. Broad shoulders, wide chest, imposingly tall—so big she could barely see around him. He blocked out everything so all she could focus on was him.

“Lane.” The irritation in her voice was clear but he didn’t react. Didn’t so much as say a single word or even bat an eyelash. He just watched her in that unnervingly quiet way of his. She went right with a quick step, and so did he. Shifted left and he followed suit, not allowing her to escape. And right about now she was desperate to get away from him. What did he want? “Let me get by.”

“I want to talk to you first.” His voice was pitched exceptionally low, the sound reaching deep inside her and setting off a flurry of butterflies in her already jittery stomach.

“What about?” She tried to keep calm but she heard the slight tremble tinge her voice. Knew that if she held her hand out, it’d be shaking.

“Who was the guy?” When she frowned Lane continued. “The one you were talking to earlier. Who is he to you?”

Oh. Oh. Lane was jealous. She never thought she’d see the day. The triumph that surged through her could barely be contained. “He works for Cal Fire. He’s an investigator.” He had to know this. Surely West had told him. So why was he asking her?

“Right.” Lane nodded, like he already knew that. “Who is he to you, Dee?”

She really hated it whenever anyone called her Dee. Even Lane. “We were just talking,” she said irritably.

“He seemed interested.” Lane paused, the air heavy between them. “In you.”

“So what if he was?” She shrugged, hoping against hope he believed her casual attitude. Inside her heart was doing cartwheels over the fact that Lane Gallagher was acting like he might . . .

Care?

“You seemed interested too.” He sounded fierce. Downright hostile.

Meaning he was definitely jealous. She’d fully expected to be bouncing off the walls with glee right about now but instead she felt sort of bad. She didn’t necessarily want him to get the wrong idea. What if her pretend interest in Josh drove Lane away? And she didn’t want to lead Josh on either. “He’s nice.” She hesitated, hoping she would say the right thing. “I was just being friendly.”

“Flirting and touching him is your definition of being friendly?” Lane raised a brow, taking a step forward. Coming closer to her.

Touching-distance close.

Her heart started to race triple time and she stood a little straighter, lifting her chin. “Since when are you allowed to question me about the people I talk to?”

Tags: Karen Erickson Wildwood Romance
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