Forbidden Fling (Wildwood 1)

Delaney leaned her head against his. “We talked about this. Professional distance, remember?”

“No.” He lifted his head and tightened both arms around her waist, dragging her even closer. “You talked. It wasn’t a discussion. What else have you got in there?”

She thumbed through more photos, and Ethan turned his head enough to press his mouth and nose to her hair, breathing in the soft scent of her shampoo.

“These are some serious throwbacks.” Delaney paused on an image of the three sisters around Halloween.

“This must be Avery.” He pointed toward the brunette of the family. “What is she supposed to be? A teacher or something?”

Delaney grinned, and the sight zinged his heart. “A librarian. And not just any librarian, she was Mrs. Baxter, our—”

“School librarian,” he finished, chuckling. “Man I haven’t thought of her in forever. That’s funny. And Chloe . . .” He tapped the image, indicating the little blonde. “Some kind of archeologist?”

“Indiana Jones. She was always the explorer.”

He scrutinized Delaney’s sweatshirt and jeans. “What about you? Did you put yours on later?”

“I didn’t have time to work out a costume for myself. By the time I had Chloe and Avery set, their homework done, lunches made for the next day.” She shrugged. “There wasn’t time. I just walked them around town and hung on the sidewalk with the parents.”

She didn’t sound sad or angry or even melancholy, as if a ten-year-old giving up her Halloween so her younger sisters could enjoy it was normal.

He ran his hands over her waist and belly. “I guess this was after your mom left.”

“Yeah. It wasn’t all bad—Avery and Chloe shared their candy with me.”

“Was your dad at the bar?”

She shook her head. “Passed out drunk on the couch.”

“And Phoebe?”

“She hadn’t come yet.”

His gaze turned back to the picture of the three young girls, innocence personified, left unsupervised and uncared for. “Then who took the picture?”

“Me. I used the timer.” She darted a shy, sidelong smile at him. “Before my mom left, she was always taking pictures. I remember thinking she’d eventually come back, and she’d be sad at all the great times she missed. I wanted to have pictures of us so she didn’t feel left out while she was gone.” Delaney shook her head. “So ridiculous.”

“Not ridiculous at all. Your mom is the one who lost out big-time on this deal.”

She turned her head and met his gaze steadily. “Thanks.”

“For what?”

“Just . . . coming by. Being here.”

Ethan’s chest burned with pleasure. He lifted a hand and stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “Thanks for sharing those pictures with me.”

A flicker of a smile passed over her lips. “You’re a pretty special guy.”

His stomach flipped, then folded. “How do you figure?”

“I know how hard it is to come out of a fucked-up family with any sense of compassion or kindness or sense of self. And I may have only really known you for a short time, but I’ve been working with guys my whole life. So I know a good guy—a really decent guy—when I meet one. And I certainly know all about your family, so I’m impressed that you came out of it so great.”

“Thank you again.” Ethan lowered his gaze and watched as he let his fingers slide down her cheek again. “I can’t explain how much I needed to hear that tonight.”

“You don’t have to. I know I’m dredging up all sorts of hurt and hard feelings. And I know you’ll be catching shit from your family for being involved, even if it’s because you have to be.” She covered his hand with hers, pressed it against her cheek, and closed her eyes. “I know it may not seem like it, but I am sorry about that. I wish . . .” She sighed, opened her eyes, and smiled at him, releasing his hand. “Well, we all wish a lot of things, right?”

He dropped his hand to her thigh. “You wish what?”