Great. Welcome to the club.
“You’re right. I’m confused. I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours, Lane. I don’t think I ever have. You keep your secrets close to your chest. You don’t allow anyone in, but why? Are you that scared of getting hurt? Or what? Of having a great time?”
“Life isn’t just one big great time, Dee.”
“Life is what you make it,” she pointed out. “If you’re miserable, it’s miserable. If you’re happy, it’s . . . happy.”
“You make it sound so simple.” His voice was small and he glanced toward the fire once more. The plume of smoke looked thicker already. “Shit, Dee. I really have to go.”
“Go,” Delilah told him and he met her gaze once more. “Be careful.”
Come back to me safely. Don’t do anything crazy. You’re everything to me. I love you.
But she said none of those things. She didn’t try to stop him. She didn’t ask for a kiss or words of reassurance. She didn’t ask for him to text her later.
Instead, she gave him a little wave before he walked away, but he never even noticed. He was already gone, his radio crackling to life, his strides long as he headed for his car. She was already forgotten as he left her behind.
Left her alone.
Would this be her future if she tried to stick it out with Lane? Always coming in second to his job? God, she hoped not.
But she had the distinct feeling that was all she’d ever get from him.
Chapter Seventeen
LANE TRIED HIS best to stay focused on the task at hand but it was damn hard. His mind kept wandering back to Delilah. He’d gotten the vandalism call with the familiar address and his first instinct had been to ignore it. She was making shit up to force him to come see her. He’d felt it in his bones.
But the more he’d thought about it, the more he’d worried. What if someone really had vandalized her studio? What if some creeper was stalking her? Or wanted to rob her? She never locked that damn front door, and that frustrated the hell out of him. Why didn’t she listen?
He’d broken down and rushed over to her studio, only to discover that her vandals were true bandits—in the form of pesky raccoons. She’d looked so happy and pissed to see him, so fucking gorgeous and sexy in her bright pink tank top and black shorts—way too much skin on display. Just looking at her sent his pulse racing. Seeing her after going without for a solid week had just about brought him to his knees. She slayed him dead with just a look—that flash of anger in her gaze—the sound of her voice, the scent of her skin. Avoiding her hadn’t worked as he’d hoped. How could he believe he’d get over her? He had it bad.
So fucking bad for her.
And he was helpless to stop it. Hell, for once in his life he didn’t want to stop it. He hadn’t realized how much he missed her until he saw her earlier. Panic had set in after she left his house last week. He didn’t like how she always tried to sneak out. What did that mean? Was this just a casual thing for her? Hell, that’s what he’d claimed he wanted, what he’d told himself he wanted.
But he wasn’t being honest.
When it came to Delilah, he always wanted more. He just wasn’t sure how to get it. How to ask for it. How to keep it.
Keep her.
Especially after everything she said. Deep down, he was terrified she was being honest. Would she give up on him? She should. He’d pushed her away so many times. He’d never played fair with Delilah. She deserved more.
But damn it, so did he. Why the hell did he always have to hide his feelings? Why couldn’t he just open up to her?
He sat in his patrol car at the base of the road that led up to the ridge that was currently on fire, blocking all incoming traffic until someone came to relieve him when his shift was over. Residents who had houses on the ridge had been mostly evacuated as the fire had grown to fifty acres in an alarmingly short time. The flames were aided by the fast-blowing wind, the low humidity in the air, and the afternoon’s high temperatures. If the fire crews couldn’t get a good handle on this fire quickly, it could get out of hand.
And that was the last thing they needed.
The land and surrounding vegetation were dry. There were a lot of dead trees mixed in with the live ones on the mountain ridge. Which meant plenty of fuel to keep the fire going for a long time. Everyone had been nervous last fire season because of drought conditions. This year was even worse. The mountains that surrounded Wildwood could go up in flames and smoke very easily.
Lane didn’t really like entertaining that thought. No Wildwood resident did.
Holden’s engine was at the fire; he’d seen it come through earlier. West was off duty but had texted Lane that he might end up coming in and covering at his station if necessary. Lane had called for assistance and had one deputy keeping watch in town while another was patrolling the area, looking for anything suspicious. The word arson hadn’t been uttered yet but Lane wasn’t going to let his guard down. Better to be cautious and on alert.
That’s why he was the one who was sitting here, blocking the road. The theory was that arsonists loved to return to the scene of the crime to watch their fire grow. The only way in and out was Ridge Point Road. They’d have no choice but to pass his patrol car.
A red Cal Fire SUV pulled up alongside his car, and the driver’s side window rolled down to reveal Josh, the arson investigator. Josh scowled at him, and Lane scowled back, finally rolling down his window when the guy didn’t seem in any hurry to move.