Forbidden Fling (Wildwood 1)

He got that smug look that made Ethan’s temper spike. “Well you’ll have the chance to tell your theory to your aunt and uncle’s face at Sunday dinner.” He lifted that wagging finger to Ethan. “And you’d better not cancel on another one of my clients—”

Ethan knocked Jack’s hand away. “Enough.” He paused to purposely lower his voice. “I won’t be going to Sunday night dinners if they become one more way for my family to ambush me. And I’ll be explaining that very clearly to Mom.”

That made Jack’s smug look fade.

“You’ve crossed the line one too many times. I’m done doing favors. So stop promising them to people, because they’re going to hit a brick wall in the planning department, and you’re going to end up catching a lot of shit. You’re going to stop telling me how to do my job. You’re going to stop using my guilt over Ian’s death to manipulate me. And you’re going to stay out of the situation with Delaney’s bar.”

“Don’t you dare tell me—”

Ethan pushed a rigid index finger into his father’s chest—an extremely confrontational and out-of-character gesture that made Jack’s eyes widen.

“I’m done with this shit, Dad. Are you hearing me? I’m done with the way you’ve treated me since Ian died. If I have to sever ties with you altogether, that’s what I’ll do, but I. Am. Done.”

Ethan turned and stepped into the street without bothering to look for traffic and crossed. Another benefit of a small town—the residents didn’t run you over when you were not thinking straight.

He sweat. His mind raced. His body trembled. He never stood up to his father. Ever. But seeing him lay hands on Delaney . . . it snapped something inside him.

She’d walked into town, and Ethan’s life had spun on its ever-loving axis.

She was right. They shouldn’t see each other anymore.

“Ethan Hayes,” his father called at his back, “don’t you dare walk away from me.”

Ethan kept walking, and anything Jack said after that was drowned in the laughter and barking coming from Scrub-a-Pup and the conversations of customers at Finley’s Market.

Ethan took a deep breath and stopped at Caleb’s side. They both watched the action at the doggie spa, where all the pretty girls were nearly as wet and soaped up as the dogs.

“No matter what happened with your dad,” Caleb said with a grin as Delaney and Heidi fought over a hose, both of them getting soaked to the skin, cotton clinging to luscious curves, “that’s gotta cheer you up, right?”

Ethan had eyes only for Delaney. She wrestled the hose away from Heidi, pointed it at her friend, and sprayed, then held it overhead in a triumphant gesture and bowed for the cheering fans.

Ethan laughed, and seeing how she’d bounced back from his father’s tirade gave him a whole new perspective on just how deeply he’d let Jack’s claws sink into his life.

No more. If Delaney could pry those claws out, so could Ethan.

“Looks like the wild is back in Wildwood,” Caleb said, then turned to Ethan. “And it looks like that wild has done more for you than I expected.” He slapped Ethan’s arm. “I was starting to think you’d never grow a pair.”

“Me either,” Pops said as he strolled up beside Ethan.

Guilt immediately closed in around Ethan like a black cloud. He’d told his grandfather about Delaney being in town to deal with the bar, but he’d played it way down in an attempt to keep Harlan from worrying. But anyone watching Delaney now could see she was far more integrated in the town than Ethan had let on.

“Hey.” Ethan reached down to pet Homie. “Didn’t know you’d be around. Why don’t you take him over for a bath while you’re here?”

“Why would I do that when he’s just gonna run through the fields as soon as we get back to the farm?”

“Is that Homie?” Delaney’s voice reached Ethan’s ears, and he turned to see her crouched, hands on her thighs. Her gaze jumped to Pops. “Oh, Harlan, he looks so good. Come here, boy.”

She slapped her thighs, and Homie took off running.

“What in the Sam hill—” Pops muttered. Then he yelled, “Homie, you dumb mutt, get back here!”

But he was already in Delaney’s arms, getting hugs and kisses.

Caleb laughed. “That dog ain’t goin’ nowhere. And I don’t blame him.”

“Shut up.” Ethan smacked Caleb’s gut, drawing a grunt. “You’re married.” Then to Harlan, “How did Delaney get so chummy with Homie? Wasn’t he just a pup when she left town?”

“She was doing community service at the shelter when I went in. Took a shine to Homie but was afraid of what her daddy would do if she brought him home.”