He didn’t know whether to be relieved at her nonchalant yet irritable attitude or frustrated. Maybe it was a combination of both. “Mom. You had a serious fall. You were unconscious. They want to make sure you’re okay, that’s all.”
“They could give up my bed to someone else. I’m not hurt, and there’s a whole mess of people around me who were nearly killed out on the lake.” She shook her head with a wince, clearly beside herself. “It’s ridiculous, Lane. You’re a deputy. Tell them to release me so I can go home.”
“No.” He touched her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. He could see the pain flare in her gaze. She was hurting and pretending everything was all right. “I’m not letting you out of this place until you’re thoroughly checked out by the doctor.”
His mother rolled her eyes. “You’re being ridiculous. Where’s your father?”
Ah, crap. He didn’t want to tell her, but she deserved the truth. “We can’t get a hold of him.” His voice was tight and his anger was barely under control. It made him furious, how his father was never around when shit got bad.
She sighed. It was a knowing sound. A sad sound. “He said he’d have bad cellular service where he was going.”
More like he was ignoring all of their calls. Lane had left him a perfectly polite, perfectly scathing voice mail message and didn’t expect a return call. Old bastard probably wasn’t even checking his damn phone. He was too busy being selfish and drinking himself into a stupor, like he usually did when he made an escape.
“I’m sure he’ll show up eventually,” Lane said. Because his dad always did, like a bad penny—and what the hell did that saying mean anyway?
“Yes, he will.” She smiled as if trying to reassure him. Man, she blew him away. “In the meantime, let’s find a doctor so I can get back home. I’m hungry for that sandwich.”
“Mom, don’t worry about the sandwich. If you check out okay, I’ll take you to dinner.”
Her eyes lit up. “Oh, we should go to the BFD. I haven’t had a hamburger from there in so long.”
“I’ll take you there then.” He patted her arm, glancing around the crowded room. There was a curtain up on one side of the examination table and bed but that didn’t allow for much privacy. People were coming and going, nurses constantly buzzing by. Lane figured they were in for a long wait.
“Is Wren okay? Where is she?” his mom asked.
“She’s out in the waiting room. They wouldn’t let her come back here. It’s too crazy,” Lane told her.
Her face fell. “She’s out there all alone? That’s not right. You go back and sit with her. I’ll be fine here by myself.”
She probably told herself that a lot, considering she spent a lot of time alone. No way was he leaving her. That would make him as awful as his father, and he didn’t want anyone to draw comparisons. “Delilah showed up a few minutes ago. She’s with Wren so she’s not alone.”
“Aw, Delilah. I adore that girl. She’s always had a thing for you.” Lane was struck silent by his mother’s statement, but she didn’t appear to notice. Just kept on talking. “I know she went out with West, but that was never meant to be. I always thought you two were better suited for each other.”
He snapped his jaw shut. Was she for real? “Why did you think we were better suited?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “She seems to understand you when no one else can. Leave you be when you want to be left alone and get up in your face when you need someone to help you snap out of a funk. A girl who’s so intuitive to your every mood? You don’t let her go.”
“I never had a claim on her in the first place,” he muttered, stunned by what she’d said. Was that true? Was Delilah intuitive to his needs?
“Well then, don’t you think you should stake your claim? You’re getting too old for this I’d-rather-go-it-alone business, Lane. You need to find a nice woman who will make your life brighter just by smiling at you. Look at your brother. He’s gone and found the perfect woman for him. West and Harper.”
Lane had never believed he would find the woman of his dreams. He’d never even had dreams of a lifetime with one woman. He definitely didn’t want to get married—the best example he had was a sorry mess of a marriage that somehow still endured.
So why did the thought of Delilah being the one for him make his heart ache? And not in a bad way?
“Mrs. Gallagher.” A female doctor appeared, a pleasant smile on her face and a file in her hand. “So nice to see you again.”
Again? Lane glanced at his mother. She merely smiled serenely and nodded. “I hate to bother you, Dr. Knoll, but you know how it is when you have overprotective children who think you’re on your deathbed.”
Dr. Knoll turned her attention to Lane, thrusting her hand out toward him. “Gina Knoll. Nice to meet you.”
“Lane Gallagher.” He shook the woman’s hand. She had a pleasant, soothing aura about her. Dark-blond hair, kind blue eyes. She was tall and thin, her body encompassed by the white coat she wore. “And what do you mean by ‘again’?”
“Ah, your mother was brought in here, hmm . . . ” Dr. Knoll opened up the file, her gaze narrowing as she read it. “Two months ago. Racing heart, dizziness. Thought she was having a heart attack.”
“Mom.” He turned to her, his tone accusatory, but he couldn’t help it. In typical fashion his mother waved off his concern with fluttering fingers. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It was no big deal. We blamed the summer heat.”
The doctor ignored their conversation and asked Lane to step back so she could take his mom’s vitals. He moved out of the way, watching carefully as his mother chattered on and Dr. Knoll examined her, taking notes in the file, her expression neutral, her demeanor pleasant.
All the neutral pleasantries were making Lane antsy. Wren and West were blowing up his phone, but he ignored them. He’d told them both he’d text them as soon as he knew something and so far, he didn’t know squat. And he was still pretty pissed that his mother had been in the emergency room before yet never told anyone. Not that they all talked on a regular basis.
And didn’t that just make him feel like absolute shit?
“I’m going to request a series of tests,” the doctor said to his mom, her gaze downcast as she scribbled something else in the file. “I want you to go in over the next few days and have them completed.”
“Do I have to?”
“Absolutely.”
“My husband’s out of town, and I have no one to take me.” His mother hesitated. “I don’t like to go to those sorts of things alone.”
“You have four grown children. I’m sure one of them could manage to take you.” The look the doctor sent him was pointed. “Mr. Gallagher, could I speak to you for a moment?”
Without a word he followed the doctor, worry making his heart knock against his ribs. It was only when they were far away that Dr. Knoll turned to face him, her face etched with concern.
“I’m glad you’re here. I’m concerned about your mother.”
“That makes you and me both,” he agreed. “What brought her in here last time?”
“Same sort of symptoms. Dizziness. Feeling faint. Though last time she mentioned her heart and how it felt like it was trying to beat out of her chest.” Dr. Knoll’s smile was faint. Grim. “Your father brought her in. He was . . . rather noncommunicative.”
A complete understatement. “He’s hard to talk to, yeah. But what about my mom? What do you think is wrong with her?”
“I’m not sure. She’s anemic. I gave her a prescription for iron pills the last time.”
Huh. Guess he’d been right about that one. “What else could it be?”
“I ordered the tests so we can figure that out. At first I thought she suffered from anxiety. She has all the classic symptoms. But I want her to be tested to rule out anything else first. If it’s something serious, we need to know.” Her gaze was intent as it met Lane’s. “She needs to have these tests completed righ
t away.”
He nodded. “I’ll make sure she goes in tomorrow.”
“Will you be taking her?”
“I have to work, but I’m sure my sister will do it.” She was the one who’d noticed something was wrong with mom in the first place.
“Good. I’m sure we’ll be able to figure out what’s wrong.” She smiled. “Thank you for bringing her in. You’re a good son.”
Yeah, he was going to have to disagree with that. He didn’t feel like a good son.
He didn’t feel much good at anything.
Chapter Eleven
DELILAH TOOK WREN home per Lane’s request while he drove his mother back to her house along with a to-go bag from the Bigfoot Diner. She wanted to be there for her friend but really she’d done it for Lane. He’d even added a please, and of course she’d agreed, telling him anytime he needed her, she’d be there.
“See?” his mother had said, nudging him in the ribs. She’d turned toward Delilah, her mouth open as if she were about to say something else, but Lane cut her off, taking hold of her arm and steering her outside to where he’d parked.
Leaving Delilah a confused, mixed-up mess.
“I’m taking her to the lab in the morning so she can get those tests taken care of.” Wren shook her head. “I hope she’s okay.”
“I’m sure she is. If she wasn’t, they probably would’ve kept her overnight.”
“True. But what if they find something? What if she’s got . . . I don’t know, cancer or something. I can’t even wrap my head around the possibilities, you know? It’s scary. She’s my mom. She’s always been there for me. Always the strong one, the person who tries her best to make sure everything’s okay.” Wren sounded tearful, and she sniffed as a broken laugh escaped. “I’m an emotional mess. This is ridiculous.”
“When was the last time you saw your mom?” Delilah knew all of the Gallagher children had grown distant from their parents with the exception of Holden and sometimes Wren. Though none of them really wanted to spend time with their father, they did always try to see their mom.
“We met for breakfast early last week. That’s why I reached out to Lane. She didn’t look good, though it was Holden who originally said she wasn’t really acting right. Once I saw her, I knew something was up.” Wren shrugged, keeping her gaze on the passenger side window. “I’m a shitty daughter.”
“No, you’re a great daughter who’s watching out for her mother. Don’t beat yourself up, Wren. You’re just trying to ensure she’s healthy. Your mom will be thankful for it in the long run.”
“I hope so. She acted irritated with me before we left.”
Angela had. She’d told Wren it was no big deal over and over again and chastised both her and Lane for calling an ambulance. She’d even complained about the cost and her worry that her insurance wouldn’t cover it. Lane had reassured her he would take care of the cost if that was the case but that shut her up for only so long.
Delilah could only imagine the nagging Lane’s mom was giving him at that very moment while he drove her home.
She dropped Wren off with a promise of getting together for lunch tomorrow. As she was driving home, she got a text from Lane.
What are you doing right now?
Her heart raced at seeing those six not-so-simple words. Was he asking her to come over? Or did he just want to talk? He was probably stressed out over what had happened with his mom, but why didn’t he just unload on his brother or sister? Because maybe he might like her and possibly even . . . need her?
Rolling her eyes at herself, she kept driving, afraid she’d get in an accident if she texted him. Plus, he was a man of the law. He would probably write her a freaking ticket if he knew she was texting and driving.
Her phone dinged again within minutes with a new message.
????????
Delilah laughed and texted a quick response while at a stop sign.
I’m driving.
Where?
She pulled over to the side of the road.
I just dropped off Wren. I’m headed home.
No reply. She waited a minute. Checked her e-mail. Another minute. Checked Instagram. Another two minutes. Still no text.
Ugh. Men. They made her insane. Lane was running hot and cold and making her crazy like usual. Why had she thought one naked night between them would change everything? Apparently old habits died really hard.
It was when she pulled back onto the road that he decided to reply.
You should come over.
“Seriously right now?” Okay, she was trying to act annoyed but inside, her vital organs were jumping around and dancing a jig. She would love to come over. But she should probably play it cool. Play a little hard to get. She’d chased after him for months. For years. And now she finally had him where she wanted him.
Delilah frowned. Forget that. She wasn’t a game player. So no way should she play hard to get. Pulling over again, she typed a quick response.
I’ll be there in five.
It took her less than five to get to Lane’s house. He’d told her via text that he’d left the front door unlocked so she should just come on in, and she did, peering around the door as she opened it.
“Lane?” she called as she stepped into the empty living room and shut the door behind her.
“I’m in the kitchen,” he answered.
Entering the kitchen, she found Lane leaning against the counter, slinging back a beer. He raised his mostly empty bottle in a silent toast when he spotted her, then nodded toward the fridge. “Want one?”
She grabbed one for herself and handed him another, which he took gratefully, removing the cap with an almost vicious twist. “How’d you know I needed another?”
Delilah shrugged. “I figured I may as well grab you one while I was getting my own.”
The look he gave her was skeptical, but he didn’t argue. Maybe he wasn’t in the mood. She knew she wasn’t. She was exhausted. Tired from last night, the busy day, the worry over Angela, and taking care of a despondent Wren. The Gallaghers were a tiring bunch.
But she wouldn’t trade them for the world.
“My mom said something about you.”
“What did she say?” She handed her beer to Lane and he twisted off the bottle cap before giving it back to her.
“That she believed we made a good match.”
Lane said it so nonchalantly she nearly choked. He would say something like that when she was trying to take a drink. “Wh-what do you mean?” she practically sputtered.
“My mom said she always believed we were better suited for each other than you and West. And that’s pretty much an exact quote. You’re the type of girl who always seems to know exactly what I need. Like another beer.” He clinked his bottle against hers then drank.
Huh. She hadn’t really meant anything by giving him another beer. More like she was trying to help him out. Trying to take care of him. After all these years and the onslaught of emotions that swirled within her whenever she was near him, it seemed to come naturally.
“Well, I’ve known you a long time,” she said.
“Right.” He drew the word out, looking at her as if she’d lost a couple of marbles. “We’ve known each other for years.”
“Practically our entire lives.”
“I don’t really remember life without you in it.”
His statement made her heart swell. Did he find her too familiar? Nothing special? Or was it comforting—a realization that she’d always been there for him no matter what?
Did he even really see her?
When she said nothing and could only stare at him, he took her beer and set both of their bottles on the counter before he turned toward her. “Where you going with this, Dee?”
He frowned, a little crease forming between his eyebrows, and she was filled with the urge to trace it with her finger. Ease his worry, his exhaustion, his pain, whatever troubles he was dealing with. She wanted to shoulder them with him.
Togeth
er.
“I’m trying to tell you that when I help you out . . . when I seem to know what you want before you even want it, that’s because I know you.” She stared into his eyes, baring her soul with every word she spoke. “I really know you, Lane. I probably know you better than anyone else.”
At least, she’d like to think that. Believe it.
They remained quiet for a long moment, their beers forgotten on the kitchen counter, the only sound in the room their soft inhalations. He finally took a deep breath and blew it out so that it puffed his cheeks, his gaze siding away from hers. He ran a hand through his hair, his jaw tight and his eyes full of pain.
And wonder.
And confusion.
And . . . something else she didn’t necessarily want to define.
“Delilah.” He said her full name, which was a rarity, and she stood up straighter, her neck cracking and making her wince. She was tense. So was he. She needed to relax. And so did he.
She knew the best way they could do that. But was he up for it? Or would he push her away yet again? Come up with an excuse? Conveniently take a call in the middle of whatever they were doing and bail on her? She was feeling vulnerable and she didn’t like it. She was strong. A determined woman who went after what she wanted.
But at this moment, she needed him to make the next move. She needed to hear him say that he wanted her. More than anything, she had to have that before they went any further.
When he said nothing else, when he couldn’t even seem to look at her, her heart deflated. She’d put herself on the line yet again, and he’d retreated. Maybe she was being ridiculous. Maybe she was reading too much into this, but something broke within her at the realization. Her heart hurt. Her bones ached. Her head buzzed and when she took a deep breath, it made her lungs feel tight.
If he did nothing else, said nothing else . . .
She was done.
LANE WANTED TO tell her to go. It freaked him out, to hear her say she really knew him. Why, he wasn’t sure. What was so wrong with that? If she really knew him, that meant she knew every one of his flaws. That was scary. But then again, she hadn’t left. She hadn’t bailed on him and she could’ve. He would’ve deserved it. He would’ve mourned the loss but then moved on with his life because that’s what he did. He had a heart of steel. He was resilient. Untouchable. Emotionless.
Smolder: The Wildwood Series Page 11