“The wheels look pretty wobbly.” They were. The thing leaned to the left most of the time. It was on the small side, old and rusted out and just as much a piece of garbage as what they stashed in there. “And there have been reports of a family of raccoons around here causing trouble. I’ve actually taken calls on them.” He peered inside the Dumpster and shook his head. “Your bowl is in here and there’s not a lick of cat food remaining.”
“Probably because the cats ate it all.”
“More like the raccoons ate it all. They love that stuff. You know this, Dee. You can’t leave a bowl of cat food outside all night. The moment it gets dark, raccoons and all the other critters are out looking for an easy meal.”
He was right. She knew this. But really, she’d figured kids had knocked over the Dumpster and broken her table. That had been a good little table. She’d had it since she was a kid and moved it into the studio when she first bought the place from her old dance teacher Lesandre. Once she became business partners with Wren, and they’d moved in another desk along with two giant file cabinets, the table had had to go. So she’d set it outside, a temporary fix.
Now it was gone forever. And like an idiot, she mourned the loss.
“Stupid raccoons.” She kicked at the broken table but only managed to stub her toe since she was wearing flip-flops. She cried out, more in frustration than pain, pissed that she’d forget all sense in the presence of stupid Lane Gallagher, and she was tempted to shake her fists at the sky and say why.
Just before she rained her fists all over Lane’s head, pummeling him senseless.
Clearly she had anger issues.
“You okay?”
His question, the concern in his voice, the way he looked at her, like he wanted to run both toward her and away from her, was the final straw.
“No. No, I’m not okay, Lane. Are you okay? Tell me the truth, because there has to be a reason why you’ve been avoiding me for the last week.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest, ignoring the throbbing in her big toe.
The look on his face was nothing short of helpless, with a heaping dose of panic. This was the last conversation he wanted to have, she was sure of it.
Well, tough shit.
“I’ve been—busy.”
“Bullshit.” She spit the word out so fiercely he took a step back, as if she’d suddenly frightened him. Good. He should be frightened. “Stop making excuses. Did you panic? Was it so good between us you got scared? Is that your problem? Are you afraid of us being over before we really began?”
“I’m not afraid of anything.”
“Everyone’s afraid of something. It’s okay,” she added in a rush when he looked ready to protest. “Being scared means you’re human. Guess what? I’m scared of you. I’m scared of what I feel for you. How much power you hold and you’re not even aware of it.”
Lane frowned. “What do you mean? I don’t control you.” He sounded offended.
“I didn’t say you controlled me, but you do have power over me. My feelings for you make up so much of who I am.” The words left her in an almost whisper and the unfamiliar emotion she saw flash in his gaze made her knees wobble.
“It’s probably not healthy, you feeling like that. About me.”
Her jaw dropped open. “Are you saying I’m crazy for loving you? Then call me crazy. I’m tired of denying my feelings.”
His eyes nearly bugged out of his head at her admission. Well, good. He needed to hear the truth. And if it rocked his world, then maybe that’s what he needed.
“Does the truth hurt, Lane?” She was taunting him, which was rude, but she couldn’t help herself.
He blew out a harsh breath and looked away from her, his gaze focusing on God knew what. Damn, he looked good in profile, the hot summer breeze ruffling through his dark hair. It had been too long since she set eyes on him and she took her time studying him.
He was too beautiful for words. And so frustrating she didn’t know what to do with herself.
“Looks like a fire,” he said almost conversationally.
“What?” The rapid change of subject had her brain scrambling to keep up.
“Up there on the ridge.” He pointed and she followed the direction of his finger, focusing on a plume of smoke spiraling into the sky. It grew thicker as she watched, like a white round cloud in the distance. He grabbed hold of his radio and spoke into it, saying a few codes, asking about a fire and listening to dispatch relay the information back to him, his mouth tight, his gaze toward the mountain. “I should go,” he said once the dispatcher went quiet. “There’s a fire.”
“You’re going to leave now?” She threw her hands up into the air. Fine, so there was a fire. But wasn’t that Cal Fire’s job? “Are you serious?”
Right after I told you I loved you?
She wanted to hit him.
“Dee, I’m on duty. The fire is already thirty acres and growing. The wind is blowing and the air is hot. It’s prime fire weather.” He strode toward her, grabbed her by the shoulders, and gave her a little shake. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m an asshole for avoiding you.”
“You totally were.”
The faint smile curling his lips told her he appreciated her honesty. At least someone did. “I’m an asshole for leaving you right now too.”
“I won’t argue with you on that point.”
“It sounds like an excuse, but I really was busy. But I was also . . . freaking out.” He winced.
She stared up at him, startled by his admission. “What were you freaking out over?”
He didn’t answer her question. “I’ve missed you.” Leaning in, he rested his forehead against hers. “A lot.”
Oh, God. All he had to do was say a few kind words, and she wanted to melt. She should resist, the thing she needed to do right at this very moment was resist, but he made it so difficult. “I missed you too.” More too-revealing words were on the tip of her tongue, and she pressed her lips together, knowing now was not the right time to continue confessing her true feelings.
Though he’d stomped all over her heart by not admitting that he cared about her too. She didn’t even need to hear the love word back. She just needed him to know it. She needed him to hear it.
Maybe he didn’t hear that word enough.
“I gotta go.” He shifted away from her and she felt the loss. Felt the wide-open split of her heart that was just dying to be filled with anything and everything that had to do with Lane. But he still kept up those walls. Used those same old excuses.
She was growing weary, dealing with it—with him—all the time. But he was busy. He had a job to do. And she didn’t want to freak him out further. He was already running scared. Admitting how she felt about him when he wasn’t ready to hear it might send him packing for good.
The dread that filled her over revealing her exact feelings couldn’t be stopped. She couldn’t take those words back either. Not that he had even acknowledged them.
A sharp pain pierced her chest and she took a deep breath. “Lane, I don’t kn—”
“Listen. I don’t want to leave you like this, but I—” He shook his head once before he slipped his hand beneath her chin and tilted her face up. “I have to go.”
She nodded, though she wanted to beg him to stay. And begging so wasn’t her thing. This is what he’d reduced her to—a beggar. “Of course you do.”
Her cool tone did not go unnoticed. He watched her carefully. “It’s like this a lot with me. Having to leave all the time. The job comes first.”
Oh, that just infuriated her. “I hope you and your job have a wonderful life then,” she practically spit out. “I’m sure you and your job will have a lovely marriage. I can only imagine how fulfilled you’ll be when you go to bed alone every single night for the rest of your life. Lonely and sad but always with that beloved job.”
He flinched, taking a step back. “What the hell’s got you so mad?”
“You!” The word shot out of her lips like a bu
llet. And she wouldn’t doubt she’d made a direct hit, what with the wounded look on Lane’s face. “You make me insane. And I don’t mean that in a nice way. More like a cruel-and-unusual-punishment-type way. You play tug-of-war with my heart constantly. You screw with my head, you mess with my emotions, and I can’t take it. You want me, you don’t want me. You kiss me, you fuck me, and then you shove me away like I have a disease.” She hesitated, unsure if she should say it or not. Screw it. “I don’t know if I can keep going on like this.”
“Are you saying this is it? That we’re through?” Why in the world did he sound almost . . . hopeful? She should hate him forever for this.
But she couldn’t. And there was more there than met the eye. “Would that actually make you happy?”
“No,” Lane finally said. He took too long to answer, yet only a few seconds had passed. That there was still a slight hesitation on his part proved he wasn’t ready. For her. For a relationship.
Maybe he’d never be ready.
She was beyond ready. She wanted more. She wanted Lane. But she was done chasing. Done looking like a fool. “I think it might.”
“If you really stand by that statement, you don’t know anything about me,” he said, sounding hurt.
Great. Welcome to the club.
“You’re right. I’m confused. I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours, Lane. I don’t think I ever have. You keep your secrets close to your chest. You don’t allow anyone in, but why? Are you that scared of getting hurt? Or what? Of having a great time?”
“Life isn’t just one big great time, Dee.”
“Life is what you make it,” she pointed out. “If you’re miserable, it’s miserable. If you’re happy, it’s . . . happy.”
“You make it sound so simple.” His voice was small and he glanced toward the fire once more. The plume of smoke looked thicker already. “Shit, Dee. I really have to go.”
“Go,” Delilah told him and he met her gaze once more. “Be careful.”
Come back to me safely. Don’t do anything crazy. You’re everything to me. I love you.
But she said none of those things. She didn’t try to stop him. She didn’t ask for a kiss or words of reassurance. She didn’t ask for him to text her later.
Instead, she gave him a little wave before he walked away, but he never even noticed. He was already gone, his radio crackling to life, his strides long as he headed for his car. She was already forgotten as he left her behind.
Left her alone.
Would this be her future if she tried to stick it out with Lane? Always coming in second to his job? God, she hoped not.
But she had the distinct feeling that was all she’d ever get from him.
Chapter Seventeen
LANE TRIED HIS best to stay focused on the task at hand but it was damn hard. His mind kept wandering back to Delilah. He’d gotten the vandalism call with the familiar address and his first instinct had been to ignore it. She was making shit up to force him to come see her. He’d felt it in his bones.
But the more he’d thought about it, the more he’d worried. What if someone really had vandalized her studio? What if some creeper was stalking her? Or wanted to rob her? She never locked that damn front door, and that frustrated the hell out of him. Why didn’t she listen?
He’d broken down and rushed over to her studio, only to discover that her vandals were true bandits—in the form of pesky raccoons. She’d looked so happy and pissed to see him, so fucking gorgeous and sexy in her bright pink tank top and black shorts—way too much skin on display. Just looking at her sent his pulse racing. Seeing her after going without for a solid week had just about brought him to his knees. She slayed him dead with just a look—that flash of anger in her gaze—the sound of her voice, the scent of her skin. Avoiding her hadn’t worked as he’d hoped. How could he believe he’d get over her? He had it bad.
So fucking bad for her.
And he was helpless to stop it. Hell, for once in his life he didn’t want to stop it. He hadn’t realized how much he missed her until he saw her earlier. Panic had set in after she left his house last week. He didn’t like how she always tried to sneak out. What did that mean? Was this just a casual thing for her? Hell, that’s what he’d claimed he wanted, what he’d told himself he wanted.
But he wasn’t being honest.
When it came to Delilah, he always wanted more. He just wasn’t sure how to get it. How to ask for it. How to keep it.
Keep her.
Especially after everything she said. Deep down, he was terrified she was being honest. Would she give up on him? She should. He’d pushed her away so many times. He’d never played fair with Delilah. She deserved more.
But damn it, so did he. Why the hell did he always have to hide his feelings? Why couldn’t he just open up to her?
He sat in his patrol car at the base of the road that led up to the ridge that was currently on fire, blocking all incoming traffic until someone came to relieve him when his shift was over. Residents who had houses on the ridge had been mostly evacuated as the fire had grown to fifty acres in an alarmingly short time. The flames were aided by the fast-blowing wind, the low humidity in the air, and the afternoon’s high temperatures. If the fire crews couldn’t get a good handle on this fire quickly, it could get out of hand.
And that was the last thing they needed.
The land and surrounding vegetation were dry. There were a lot of dead trees mixed in with the live ones on the mountain ridge. Which meant plenty of fuel to keep the fire going for a long time. Everyone had been nervous last fire season because of drought conditions. This year was even worse. The mountains that surrounded Wildwood could go up in flames and smoke very easily.
Lane didn’t really like entertaining that thought. No Wildwood resident did.
Holden’s engine was at the fire; he’d seen it come through earlier. West was off duty but had texted Lane that he might end up coming in and covering at his station if necessary. Lane had called for assistance and had one deputy keeping watch in town while another was patrolling the area, looking for anything suspicious. The word arson hadn’t been uttered yet but Lane wasn’t going to let his guard down. Better to be cautious and on alert.
That’s why he was the one who was sitting here, blocking the road. The theory was that arsonists loved to return to the scene of the crime to watch their fire grow. The only way in and out was Ridge Point Road. They’d have no choice but to pass his patrol car.
A red Cal Fire SUV pulled up alongside his car, and the driver’s side window rolled down to reveal Josh, the arson investigator. Josh scowled at him, and Lane scowled back, finally rolling down his window when the guy didn’t seem in any hurry to move.
“What are you doing here?” Josh asked.
“Keeping the citizens of Wildwood safe,” Lane retorted. “What are you doing here?” If the investigator was here then something was definitely up.
“Thought I’d check this one out. Fairly certain it wasn’t started by your resident arsonist, but better safe than sorry, you know?”
Lane did know. And he sort of hated that they were on the same page. “How did the fire start?”
“Not sure yet. I’ve heard a few stories. Nothing concrete.” The asshole smirked, clearly getting a thrill out of telling Lane squat. “Guess I’ll talk to you later.” Josh rolled up his window and took off up the road.
Lane muttered a few choice words under his breath, shaking his head. He didn’t like that guy. Worse, he didn’t trust him either and he was pretty sure the feeling was mutual. Lane wanted to help and the guy refused him every chance he got.
It sucked.
Frustration had been the name of the game so far this summer. He had been frustrated with his brother coming back home, though now he was glad to have West around. He’d also been frustrated with his feelings for Delilah, frustrated with his mother, his father . . . The only thing that didn’t drive him batshit crazy was his job.
&nbs
p; And if he was being truthful with himself, Delilah didn’t drive him crazy either. Well, she did, but not in a bad way. He needed to be honest with her, but that was easier said than done. Besides, he wasn’t sure how he could make it right between them again. Maybe he didn’t need to tell her with words how much she meant to him. He could show her just how much he needed her . . .
Damn it, he should just tell her. He cared about her. He—he loved her. He was in love with her. Had been in love with her far longer than he’d ever care to admit.
But what if she turned him away? What would he do then?
His phone rang and he glanced at the screen, surprised to see it was Wren calling. “What’s up?” he answered.
“Where are you?”
“Uh, working?”
She made an irritated sound. “I know that, but I haven’t seen you around town this afternoon.”
God, did they all keep tabs on him or what? “I’m at the bottom of Ridge Point, blocking the road because of the fire,” he explained.
“Oh. Were there evacuations?”
“Yeah, voluntary only right now but that could change. The fire is growing at a pretty rapid pace.”
“How awful,” she murmured.
“Yeah, so I can’t really talk.” He could, he just didn’t want to talk to Wren. She rarely called him so he figured he was in for something. “So what’s up?”
“Preliminary results are in from Mom’s series of tests.”
He held his breath when she hesitated, saying a quick prayer that everything was okay. “Yeah?”
“They believe it’s a thyroid issue. Nothing too serious, but they’re going to want to conduct more tests and her doctor recommended she see a specialist. She’s supposed to set up an appointment and I told her I’d help her.”
Relief hit him so hard he literally felt weak. “That’s good then, right? She’s going to be okay?”
“It’s good. She’s going to need to be put on medication but she’ll be fine.” He could hear the smile in his sister’s voice. “I wanted to let you know so you could stop worrying. And warn you that Mom is hell-bent on making that family dinner happen. Did you ever ask Delilah to go with you?”
Smolder: The Wildwood Series Page 16