Smolder (Wildwood 2)

But he didn’t. Now was neither the time nor place.

“Take care of Wren for me, will you?” Lane asked, his voice solemn, his eyes dark as they stared into hers.

“I’ll stay with her,” Delilah said, earning the softest, sweetest smile she thought she’d ever seen from him. It made her knees wobble, and she locked them into place so she wouldn’t collapse like a swooning idiot.

“Thanks.” He nodded at Delilah, patted Wren on the shoulder, and then he was gone, zipping through the crowded waiting room and pushing through the double doors that led to the actual emergency room.

“We don’t know what’s wrong with her, Dee. She seemed perfectly fine. Her usual self, though she looked so frail. It scared me, how easily she fell to the ground. She just . . . crumpled. I’ve never seen anything like it. She hit that floor so hard. The linoleum is thin, and it’s just solid concrete foundation beneath it. I thought she hurt herself. I really did. Like, knocked herself out.” Wren was rambling, her eyes full of unshed tears, and Delilah said nothing. Just drew her friend into her arms and held her close. It was all she could do.

All she could offer.

“LANE! THERE YOU are.” His mother sounded relieved. And even the slightest bit . . . irritated? “They won’t let me out of this very uncomfortable bed. I told that nurse I’m fine and they should just let me go home, but she wouldn’t listen. Just gave me one of those condescending smiles before she took off.”

He didn’t know whether to be relieved at her nonchalant yet irritable attitude or frustrated. Maybe it was a combination of both. “Mom. You had a serious fall. You were unconscious. They want to make sure you’re okay, that’s all.”

“They could give up my bed to someone else. I’m not hurt, and there’s a whole mess of people around me who were nearly killed out on the lake.” She shook her head with a wince, clearly beside herself. “It’s ridiculous, Lane. You’re a deputy. Tell them to release me so I can go home.”

“No.” He touched her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. He could see the pain flare in her gaze. She was hurting and pretending everything was all right. “I’m not letting you out of this place until you’re thoroughly checked out by the doctor.”

His mother rolled her eyes. “You’re being ridiculous. Where’s your father?”

Ah, crap. He didn’t want to tell her, but she deserved the truth. “We can’t get a hold of him.” His voice was tight and his anger was barely under control. It made him furious, how his father was never around when shit got bad.

She sighed. It was a knowing sound. A sad sound. “He said he’d have bad cellular service where he was going.”

More like he was ignoring all of their calls. Lane had left him a perfectly polite, perfectly scathing voice mail message and didn’t expect a return call. Old bastard probably wasn’t even checking his damn phone. He was too busy being selfish and drinking himself into a stupor, like he usually did when he made an escape.

“I’m sure he’ll show up eventually,” Lane said. Because his dad always did, like a bad penny—and what the hell did that saying mean anyway?

“Yes, he will.” She smiled as if trying to reassure him. Man, she blew him away. “In the meantime, let’s find a doctor so I can get back home. I’m hungry for that sandwich.”

“Mom, don’t worry about the sandwich. If you check out okay, I’ll take you to dinner.”

Her eyes lit up. “Oh, we should go to the BFD. I haven’t had a hamburger from there in so long.”

“I’ll take you there then.” He patted her arm, glancing around the crowded room. There was a curtain up on one side of the examination table and bed but that didn’t allow for much privacy. People were coming and going, nurses constantly buzzing by. Lane figured they were in for a long wait.

“Is Wren okay? Where is she?” his mom asked.

“She’s out in the waiting room. They wouldn’t let her come back here. It’s too crazy,” Lane told her.

Her face fell. “She’s out there all alone? That’s not right. You go back and sit with her. I’ll be fine here by myself.”

She probably told herself that a lot, considering she spent a lot of time alone. No way was he leaving her. That would make him as awful as his father, and he didn’t want anyone to draw comparisons. “Delilah showed up a few minutes ago. She’s with Wren so she’s not alone.”

“Aw, Delilah. I adore that girl. She’s always had a thing for you.” Lane was struck silent by his mother’s statement, but she didn’t appear to notice. Just kept on talking. “I know she went out with West, but that was never meant to be. I always thought you two were better suited for each other.”

He snapped his jaw shut. Was she for real? “Why did you think we were better suited?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “She seems to understand you when no one else can. Leave you be when you want to be left alone and get up in your face when you need someone to help you snap out of a funk. A girl who’s so intuitive to your every mood? You don’t let her go.”

“I never had a claim on her in the first place,” he muttered, stunned by what she’d said. Was that true? Was Delilah intuitive to his needs?

“Well then, don’t you think you should stake your claim? You’re getting too old for this I’d-rather-go-it-alone business, Lane. You need to find a nice woman who will make your life brighter just by smiling at you. Look at your brother. He’s gone and found the perfect woman for him. West and Harper.”

Lane had never believed he would find the woman of his dreams. He’d never even had dreams of a lifetime with one woman. He definitely didn’t want to get married—the best example he had was a sorry mess of a marriage that somehow still endured.

So why did the thought of Delilah being the one for him make his heart ache? And not in a bad way?