Forbidden Fling (Wildwood 1)

“What in the hell?” She looked at the mess Austin was still mopping up with stress etched into her forehead and bracketing her mouth. Then her gaze shot right to her husband. “Really, Jack? I can’t leave you three alone for thirty seconds?”

Ethan’s father shoved his chair aside and marched out of the dining room in the direction of the den. His mother watched him go, arms crossed, eyes narrowed, as if she were thinking. In moments like this, Ethan wondered why she hadn’t ever left Jack. She deserved so much better.

“Later, bro,” Ethan said, pushing to his feet. He picked up his plate and paused beside his mother on the way to the kitchen. “Thanks for dinner. Sorry Dad’s pissed off.”

She shook her head. “Never mind him.” She patted his chest, and her expression softened. “Thanks for coming, honey. It’s really good to see you.”

“How about dinner next week? Just you and me.” He dropped a kiss on her forehead, then plucked the last waffle off his plate and grinned down at her. “I’ll treat you to Italian at DaVinci’s and a bottle of your favorite merlot.”

“That’s sweet, but maybe after all this has died down. It’s hard enough to live with your father as it is.”

Disappointed, he managed a nod and walked to his truck, wondering when his family had become such a mess—or if it had always been a mess and he just hadn’t been able to see it as a boy.

On his way home, Ethan stopped at the warehouse to check stock so he could put in an order for supplies. He saw the lights on over at The Bad Seed and Delaney’s Jeep sitting out front.

He parked and stared at the property for a long time, ticked that he couldn’t get Delaney off his mind. And twisted over the turmoil this situation had created in his family, which all stemmed from his father—the prick. He created chaos everywhere he turned. Despite all that—or maybe because of it—Ethan made his way over to the bar. While things between him and Delaney might not be good, they still weren’t as backward and fucked up as things between him and his family.

With his hands in his pockets, head down so he didn’t trip over the uneven ground, he realized that he was headed toward the person whose presence in town had whipped up chaos in his life, because she was the one person who seemed to be able to quiet the chaos inside him.

He kept hearing her sweet voice saying, “As much as I would love to get another taste of what we had last night . . .” And it reminded him that despite the problems, she still wanted him.

Which made this visit even more asinine. But it didn’t stop him from climbing the front steps toward the bar’s open front door.

He paused at the new screen that had been installed—one of those removable, draping screens that kept bugs out—and scanned the interior, telling himself he was really just checking up on her. He was just about to call out her name when he caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye, and his gaze snapped that direction.

Delaney was on her knees, curled over something on the floor in a way that spiked alarm through Ethan’s chest. He swiped the screen aside, stepping inside. “Delaney?” He was halfway to her when she straightened and glanced over her shoulder.

“What?”

He stopped, taking in the small box she’d been looking through, and let a relived breath slide from his lungs. “What are you doing? I thought you were hurt.”

She sat back on her heels and gazed up at him. “Just looking through old photos. Worst thing that could happen is a paper cut.”

Her smart-ass attitude annoyed him, but seeing her like that, looking openly, confidently up at him with that sassy spark in her eyes, flung him back to their night together. The “goddess on her knees” metaphor filled his

mind and punched heat between his legs. He’d never met a woman worthy of that title—until Delaney.

Ethan rubbed a hand over his face to force the sexual images from his mind. That wasn’t why he was here.

Delaney stood and carried the box toward the long mahogany bar. She had on ripped jeans, a tank top, and flip-flops. With her hair down and tucked behind her ears and no makeup, she looked young and fresh and just as sexy as she’d been in heels and a tight skirt.

“What brings you by, Inspector Hayes?” She slid onto a stool and pulled one foot to the padded top, hugging her knee close to her chest. “Checking up on me?”

He wasn’t going to go there. “I really didn’t like the way our walk-through went.” He strolled toward the bar and leaned against it, facing her. “Can we, I don’t know, find common ground to share?”

“A Hart and a Hayes? That’s a tall order.”

She was right, which was ridiculous. This was California in the twenty-first century, not Kentucky in the 1800s.

“I want you to know that my father doesn’t have any say in how I do my job or how I run the planning department. He can ask for anything he wants, even demand anything he wants, but that doesn’t mean he gets it. I follow the laws. So if he wants something that goes against those laws, or even bends them, he’s SOL. I’m my own person, and I take a lot of pride in doing my job right.”

Her lips kicked up, and those stormy eyes of hers sparked with humor.

“Why are you smiling?”

“Because you’re adorable when you’re being all ethical.”

He lifted one brow. “Why am I sure that’s not a compliment?”