“We only just confirmed that,” he rushed to add.
“Whatever.” She wrapped up her half-eaten cheeseburger and stuffed it back into the bag. She’d lost her appetite over this conversation. She was too mad to eat. Her brothers were so damn controlling. They always had been, and it made her furious.
And deep down, it hurt. Did they really believe she couldn’t take care of herself? Had she made such bad choices throughout her life that they had no faith in her? Yeah, she’d messed up a time or two when she was a teen, but nothing major. It had been a stage. She usually played it safe—to the point it might have made her life a little boring sometimes. But she’d always believed boring was better than scary.
This summer, though, had been the most exciting one she’d had in a long time. Yeah, the fire was a dark moment, but it had brought her something good. It forced her to get closer to Tate. She didn’t regret that for a moment.
“We only wanted to protect you.” Lane reached out and touched her arm, but she pulled away from his grasp. He scowled at her. “We thought we were doing what was best.”
“For you or for me?” she snipped.
“You. Always you. The thought of some creep burning down your house on purpose.” Lane’s mouth set in a firm line. “Hell, Wren, it’s freaking spooky.” He shook his head, his expression menacing. “I should’ve never let Levi go. He could’ve been the one who burned your house down.”
Lane was totally reaching. “Give me a break. He was only home for a few days. Are you saying he traveled back and forth between here and San Francisco throughout the summer just to burn Wildwood down? Why would he even do that?”
“I don’t know. He’s pissed at the town in general?” Lane shrugged. “He never did like this place much.”
“Neither did West. Maybe he’s the arsonist.”
“Now you’re just being ridiculous,” Lane muttered.
“No, you’re being ridiculous, what with your overbearing protectiveness and sense of what’s right and wrong.” She paused, hoping he understood just how hurt and upset she was over this. “You should’ve never kept it from me, Lane. You and West don’t get to make decisions that affect my life in such a big way, you know. I’m my own person. I can take care of myself.”
“We can take care of you too.”
“And I appreciate that. I do. But sometimes you two are so overbearing. I don’t know how Tate will put up with you two jerks considering we’re now . . . ” She paused, frowning. Considering they were now . . . what? In a relationship? That sounded too serious. Fucking around? That sounded too casual, and no way could she use those particular words with Lane. He’d flip.
“Considering you’re what with Tate?” Lane’s eyes narrowed as he watched her.
She sighed and waved a dismissive hand, trying not to make too big a deal out of this. “We’re sort of—seeing each other?” There. That worked.
“Uh-huh.” Lane nodded, his expression still grim. “I thought that might be the case, especially with the way Tate talked to me yesterday.”
Curiosity had her frowning. “What exactly did you two talk about?”
His expression immediately turned guilty. “The house fire and how it was set by the arsonist.”
Her head started to spin. Tate knew about it too? Wait, her brother had mentioned he knew. So why didn’t Tate tell her? Was he supposedly trying to protect her as well? God, he was just like them. “So Tate knew that the fire was started by the arsonist too?”
“Um, well . . . yeah.” Lane shrugged, looking caught, just like the rat he was. More like there were three rats involved in this crazy secret-keeping scheme. Her two older brothers and much to her disappointment . . .
Tate.
“He wanted to tell you,” Lane added. “But we wouldn’t let him.”
Wren said nothing. Tate was a grown-ass man, yet he couldn’t work up the nerve to go against her brothers’ wishes and tell her the truth? Whose side was he on anyway?
Clearly, her brothers’.
“You should go.” Wren stood and gathered up the garbage from her dinner, tossing it into the trash. She went to the kitchen sink and washed her hands, keeping her back to Lane. She didn’t want to look at him anymore.
She wanted him gone.
“Come on, Wren. You can’t be too upset. We were just watching out for you,” Lane said, his tone pleading. He didn’t like it when she was mad at him. Much like she didn’t like it when he was mad at her. They’d always had a close relationship, even when they were kids and she followed him everywhere, driving him crazy. She always figured he secretly liked her obvious adulation for her big brother.
But right now, she wanted to kick her big brother’s ass. It didn’t matter that he could probably snap her in two. Lane was so big and broad and downright menacing when he wanted to be. She was so pissed she was tempted to give it a go, knowing he would never stop her.
Punching him would probably end with her hurting her hands. If she tried to kick him, she’d probably miss or, worse, injure herself. The man was a powerhouse.