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Forbidden Fling (Wildwood 1)

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Phoebe gave her another hug and headed back to the cars to get something while Delaney’s mind turned from the lost job opportunities back to Ethan.

She really shouldn’t meet him later. At least that’s what her common sense was telling her. But her body and soul felt as dry as the cracked desert floor and needed what Ethan offered.

She ran her tongue over her bottom lip and moaned softly at the hint of him there. She imagined his lips and tongue tasting other parts of her body the same way they’d sampled her mouth . . .

Delaney gave herself a mental slap. Sex and men in Wildwood should absolutely never come into the same thought bubble. Yet there they were, comingling again.

She was about to ask Phoebe more about Ethan when her aunt stepped onto the porch holding the wine and two plastic glasses in one hand and a Maglite in the other. “Let’s break this open. I think we both deserve it.”

She started toward the bar’s front door with the heavy-duty flashlight spreading halogen in a ten-foot radius, lighting up the cracked, worn wood.

“Be careful.” Delaney caught her aunt’s arm just as she stepped over the threshold. “It’s not safe—”

“That’s why I asked you to wait for me. I have the weak spots mapped out. Just step where I step.”

She pulled from Delaney’s grasp, wandered into the bar with carefully placed footsteps, then upended the Maglite on one of the bar stools. Light ricocheted off the ceiling, giving Delaney a better overall view of the space, where a smattering of fluorescent sticky notes dotted the floor.

“Stay away from the marked spots,” Phoebe said, “and you’ll be fine.”

Delaney took careful steps, testing each before she trusted the old wood with her full weight while Phoebe uncovered a corkscrew behind the bar. The pop of the wine’s cork echoed through the bar.

Delaney was still dodging sticky notes and contemplating the pros and cons of meeting up with Ethan when Phoebe said, “So, these notices the city’s been sending you for the last year. Have you read them, or did you just see Wildwood in the return address and drop them in the round file?”

She finally reached the bar. “What?”

Phoebe passed a cup of wine to Delaney, leaving a trail through the thick dust layer covering the old wood, then picked up her own. “The planning department said they’ve sent notices for a year, but that you never responded. Neither did your sisters.”

Irritation pushed Ethan a little further from her mind. “There were two notices over the last year, and only one of those related to the building code violations. And if Avery or Chloe had answered the city, I’d be pissed, because neither has responded to me in years.”

She exhaled heavily and leaned against a stool, suddenly exhausted. Propping her elbow on the bar, Delaney looked around again, and this time she saw all the historical details that had enchanted her once upon a time—the high coved ceilings, the wide window trim, the decorative glass, the thick baseboards. And a new sense of loss slid in, pulling her mood down several notches.

“I guess there’s no point in holding on to it anymore. It’s obvious neither Avery nor Chloe is interested in taking it over and starting their own business like I’d always hoped. Now we just have to let the clock run out and put all this ugliness behind us. Move on. Start fresh. A blessing, really.”

“Always so positive—that’s what I love about you.” Phoebe set her wine on the bar and met Delaney’s gaze with a furrow of curiosity between her brows. “I can’t think of anyone who’d consider a demolition bill a blessing. You must have a hell of a lot more cash stashed away than I thought.”

A trickle of dread opened at the back of Delaney’s neck and carved a winding path toward her belly. It was that dark, sickening kind of dread that signaled her subconscious was flashing neon warning signs. The kind of dread that came just before her life tipped on its axis and she found herself hanging by her fingernails.

“What do you mean?”

“The demolition bill—if you decide to take the sitting-back-and-watching-the-world-go-by route—won’t be cheap. But I’m sure you know all about that.”

“There is no other route. And I don’t know what you mean I ‘know all about that.’ I know enough about demolition to get things out of my way so I can rebuild them. The corporation attorneys deal with anything legal. What demo

lition bill are you talking about?”

Phoebe gave her one of those I-don’t-quite-believe-you looks. “The law gives the city the right to take over control of a property when its owner fails to comply with local and state laws. By disregarding the notices and failing to correct the building code violations in this bar, you’ve given the city the right to make decisions for you.”

“Fine. Whatever. I’m over trying to hold on to this in hopes of being able to give Avery or Chloe something to fall back on. I can’t make either of them take advantage of an opportunity, and, honestly, I can’t say I blame them. This place is obviously more work than it’s worth. The city can turn this place into a circus for all I care.”

“You should care,” Phoebe said, serious. “Because the law also says that the owner is responsible for all fees incurred by the city in the act of managing the property.”

“There are no outstanding fees. The property’s paid for. I’ve kept all the bills and taxes up-to-date with my own money—all for Avery and Chloe.”

“You may have obeyed some laws but not all the laws, which you would have known if you’d opened the letters from the city.”

“I did open the letters. They were notices that this place was a pile of shit, which wasn’t exactly news. I got the condemnation warning the same day I lost my job, so I haven’t exactly had time to deal with it. And I don’t have much of a reason to deal with it either. The only reason I didn’t let the city take over the property sooner was so Avery and Chloe had something to come back to, which in hindsight is a joke on me, isn’t it?”

Phoebe heaved a sigh. “Well, sweetheart, I’m sorry to say this is no joke. And you’re the one who’s going to have to deal with it.”



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