Ignite (Wildwood 1)

That was the best part. The part she’d worried about most of all. This had been some sort of test, running into him at the too-expensive supermarket in town. Besides, who shopped here? No one she knew.

“What are you doing here anyway?” she asked Delilah, spotting the reason as soon as she peeked inside the basket hanging from her arm. “Oh. The power bars.”

She was known as the health nut dance instructor around town, but everyone adored Delilah. What was not to adore? She was beautiful and spirited and moved with a natural grace that Harper could only hope to emulate. She’d taken dance with Delilah a long time ago, when they were little girls in matching black leotards and pale pink tights.

But that was years ago. Harper had never taken well to dance. Too awkward, too clumsy, too short. And she’d lost any glimmer of grace she’d picked up in ballet—not that it had been much.

“They’re the best on the market. But so expensive.” Delilah shook her head. “Why are you here?”

“They have Grandma’s favorite brand of coffee.” She gestured toward the cart, which was filled with two freshly ground bags of coffee and a few other items. “I have a feeling if I laid her out on an operating table and cut her open, she’d bleed brown.”

The look Delilah sent her said more than enough. She thought Harper was crazy. And she sort of was sometimes. It felt good, to say weird stuff. Out-of-character stuff.

Like being rude to Weston. She still couldn’t believe she’d had it in her, but wow, she was proud. He deserved it. Though it hadn’t seemed to bother him. She got the sense he found h

er angry comments amusing.

The jackass.

She shouldn’t care. She’d moved on from that one moment—or so she told herself. She had a special someone in her life and had for a while now. Roger was everything she’d looked for in a man. Steady, reliable, loyal. With a good job and a good head on his shoulders, he was attractive and considerate and respected. They’d been together for just over a year and their relationship was solid.

So why did seeing West make her feel all tingly inside?

“Why were you so rude to West?” Delilah asked point-blank, as if reading her mind.

Harper chewed her lower lip, contemplating how to answer. The truth was too . . . truthful. What made it worse? Delilah used to go with West. Yeah, yeah, it was a long time ago when they’d been in high school, but still. They’d both burned bright together, running through town like they owned it and causing a bunch of trouble before they split.

Harper wasn’t the type to poach on her friend’s boyfriends, past or present—and especially future. Thinking lusty thoughts about West was normal. Thinking she could turn a single kissing session with West into a relationship was a joke. He belonged to no one. He never really had.

That was what made him so appealing. Weston Gallagher was . . . wild. Untamed. To her younger, much more romantic heart, he’d been the sort to send her swooning. The fact that she knew the word swooning was a testament to how many romance novels she had devoured over the years, amazing books she’d snatched from her grandma’s hall closet. They’d filled her imagination with all sorts of unbelievably romantic things, and West had become the star in her overly imaginative fantasies.

She’d crushed on him since her early teens. And it hadn’t helped spending all her free time at the Gallagher household. She saw West constantly. He’d teased her. Tricked her. Made her smile. Made her laugh. Made her sigh in pure, teenage misery when he dated an endless list of girls who were never, ever her. Eventually she got over it and moved on, forging her own way. Though in the back of her mind, that little spark of lust she felt for West never burned out . . .

And that one night, when for some unexplained reason he’d noticed her—really noticed her—and proceeded to drive her out of her mind with his delicious, wondrous mouth, she’d thought they actually had the potential to be something. He’d drugged her with his mouth. His touch. It was like they couldn’t pry their lips from each other’s for at least two hours. Maybe longer.

Her skin went hot just thinking about it. They’d been young and stupid, and he’d been a little drunk. She’d been neck deep in a massive crush for her best friend’s brother, and what a freaking disaster that had turned out to be. When she realized he’d left town and never even bothered to tell her? She’d been so incredibly upset. He hadn’t told anyone. Just . . . confessed to Lane and his parents that he was leaving the morning after the party, and then he was gone. Wren had been the one who told her he was gone. At first, Harper had been upset, wondering what she’d done to make him leave.

Then she got good and mad.

“We’ve never gotten along,” she finally said, offering Delilah a kind smile. “I know you have a soft spot for him, but the two of us . . . I was always at his house when I was a kid, and he gave me endless grief. He and Holden terrorized Wren and me.”

“But still. I’ve never seen you talk like that to anyone. Not even Bryan Atkins when he dumped you on prom night right in front of everyone,” Delilah pointed out.

Harper barely held in the sigh that wanted to escape her. This was the problem with growing up in a small town and never leaving. Everyone knew her secrets. It hadn’t mattered that Delilah was a year older than her. They’d hung in the same social circles because the circles were so damn small.

“Bryan Atkins was an asshole,” Harper muttered as she started for the front of the store. Delilah fell into step beside her. “I haven’t thought of him in years.”

“I figured. No surprise considering you let him walk away from you so easily that night. I would’ve kneed my date in the balls if he had done something like that,” Delilah said as she walked briskly by Harper’s side. Harper would never shake her. Not that she really wanted to, but . . .

She didn’t want to talk about Bryan Atkins, or anyone else for that matter. No, she wanted to savor the moment of seeing West for the first time in ages. She’d gotten a good look at him—and he at her—before he ran away from her like a coward. His sky blue eyes had studied her with a warmth and curiosity that intrigued her despite her long-held resentment toward him.

He was taller and broader than the last time they’d been in each other’s presence. That white T-shirt he wore stretched over his muscles quite nicely. Too nicely. His jeans fit—very well.

Harper cleared her throat. She was sounding more and more like her grandma in her own head. More like she should think how great his ass looked in those jeans—because it did, it looked freaking amazing. But no. She went the staid, boring route, even in her thoughts. Did that mean she was turning into a prissy old woman?

God, she hoped not. She should ask Roger. He’d be honest with her. He was honest to a fault. They worked together—both literally and figuratively. She was the office manager of his accounting firm and they made a terrific pair. A solid team.

“Bryan wasn’t worth my anger,” Harper said with a gentle smile.