Forbidden Fling (Wildwood Book 1) (18 page)

“The error was
yours
for telling Boyd he could swap out sprinklers for lights. Especially given it goes directly against the building code of the city you represent as
mayor
.”

He tried to keep his tone even, knowing his father could easily turn wildly vindictive when his ego was raging, but Ethan wasn’t backing down. Not this time. Not with Delaney in his father’s crosshairs.

“The error was
yours
when you told Boyd I’d overlook the infraction. The error was
Boyd’s
for listening to
you
. There was no error in not signing off on his final until those sprinklers were back in, because that is
the law, Mayor
. And as the mayor, it would be smart of you to
back the fuck off
, because you’re not looking very mayoral to the constituents of Wildwood right now.”

A moment of silence fell. While the realization that they were being watched cooled Jack’s fiery eyes, Delaney eased her arm from Ethan’s grasp and moved back before stepping out from behind him.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” she said, her tone soft but businesslike. “I’ll just get going. Good to see you again, Ethan. Mayor Hayes.”

She turned toward the street, unhurried, head up, and Ethan was hit with a profound sense of awe. No one held themselves together in front of his father in a rage. Even Ethan had to work up the guts to face the man. All while acting like being with Ethan was a coincidence to make sure he avoided his family’s wrath.

Who
did
that?

Before she reached the street, his father stepped into her path and wrapped his hand around her bicep.

Ethan moved without thinking. He lunged for his father’s wrist and gripped it hard while he wedged his body between the two of them again. He was strung so tight he was vibrating.

“
Let go
, Dad,” he ordered through clenched teeth.
“Right now.”

Somewhere in his mind, he registered Delaney’s intense stillness. As if she were ready for battle. Her eyes were locked with Jack’s, and a dark fire burned there—something he read as part bone-deep fear and part bloodthirsty warrior. She never blinked. Not once.

Ethan pulled at Jack’s arm but couldn’t release his grip, so he dug what little nails he had into his father’s skin and leaned close. “Get your hand off her
right fucking now
or your next stop will be the ER and my next stop will be Sheriff Holland, ordering him to arrest you for battery. And you can make damn sure I’ll be announcing it to every goddamned voting citizen of Wildwood on the six o’clock evening news.”

“I’m fine, Ethan.” Delaney sounded almost Zen. So completely opposite of both him and his father that he darted a look at her face. She never took those laser-sharp eyes off Jack. “Let Mayor Hayes say what he feels he needs to say. Best to get this out of the way.”

“He can talk without cutting off your blood supply.”

His father’s deep-brown gaze cut to Ethan, and he released Delaney’s arm. Air suddenly flowed in and out of Ethan’s lungs a hell of a lot easier, but he had to fist his hands to keep himself from shoving his father against the wall at his back. If there weren’t fifty people across the street watching, Ethan would have let his rage loose.

Instead he put himself between Delaney and his father, because he didn’t trust Jack. Ethan had stopped trusting his father the night he’d blamed Ethan for Ian’s death.

Delaney crossed her arms and stepped out of reach—of both Jack and Ethan. The bicep his father had grabbed was reddening before Ethan’s eyes. After being abused by his father for years as a kid, Ethan knew Delaney would have an ugly handprint bruise by morning.

“If you think you’re going to come back here,” Jack started with that parental shaming finger wagging, “open that bar, and pick up where that good-for-nothing excuse of a father of yours left off—”

“You’re not exactly a
model father
yourself,” Ethan cut in.

“Ethan.” She finally turned her gaze on him. “Let him talk. Sticks and stones . . .” Then she shook her head, a gesture Ethan took to mean,
He can’t hurt me
.

“That building has been condemned,” his father went on. “And it’s going down. There’s nothing you can do to stop it.”

“I’m following all the city planning guidelines—” she started.

“
Fuck
the guidelines,” Jack yelled, surprising Ethan. Delaney remained stoic. “I don’t give a rat’s ass what the guidelines say. What matters is what
I say
. And I say
it’s . . . going . . . down
. So don’t plan on getting cozy here. Don’t meet up with old friends or make Phoebe promises you can’t keep. And stay
the hell away
from my family. You
don’t
have a place in Wildwood. You’re
not
welcome here. So pack up and get out. Do you hear me?”

“You’re yelling, Mayor,” she said, her tone flat and serious, not even an inkling of attitude. In fact, she seemed detached. “I imagine everyone within two blocks can hear you.”

Her lack of cowering infuriated Jack, and his face burned red. “Then cut your losses, and get the hell out of town.
Now.
”

A moment of silence stretched. Still Delaney didn’t blink. She held Jack’s gaze in a battle to the end. “Are you done?”

He leaned back and tugged on his blazer. “Not even close. But it’s all I’m saying here.”

“Thank you for the advice. Have a good day, Mayor.”

She turned and strolled across the street, where she wandered into the melee of Scrub-a-Pup’s scrub-a-thon in full swing. She was greeted by three concerned women, who listened to something she said, broke into laughter, and embraced her in a group hug. As if Delaney’s presence pleased both humans and canines alike, the dogs barked louder, their tails wagging fiercely.

When Delaney broke from the hug, she went through another round of hellos from several happy dog owners. Others let their frowns of dismay linger on the mayor. Next door, at Finley’s Market, the lunch crowd filled picnic tables in front of the store, murmuring among themselves.

“That was a brilliant political move, Dad. Showing your small mind and short temper to the working class of Wildwood in living color six months before the polls—
fucking brilliant
.”

Caleb’s concerned gaze watched closely from where he loitered to chat with his customers and friends as they ate lunch. He lifted his chin and tipped his head, a get-the-hell-over-here-and-away-from-him gesture Ethan knew well.

“You’d better make sure that bar gets bulldozed Ethan,” his father warned. “Do you hear me?”

Ethan refocused on his father with a new sense of calm. Of control. Jack couldn’t make Ethan do anything Ethan didn’t want to do. The revelation was simple, but one he hadn’t been able to make until he’d watched his father’s bluster roll right past Delaney. Jack could have screamed until blood came out of his eyes, but that wouldn’t have swayed Delaney’s decision on when or why she left town.

Now he realized his father had just as little power over him. Ethan had only been giving Jack the power to manipulate his guilt.

“What I hear,” Ethan answered his father, “is the mayor ordering me to do something illegal out of vengeance for personal gain.”

“Don’t you fuck with me on this. That woman is the reason your cousin is dead. That woman and
you
.”

“No, Dad.” Ethan faced his father head-on. “Ian’s dead because Ian had no common sense. Ian’s dead because Ian liked to pick fights, do drugs, get drunk, steal, and carry weapons.
That’s
why Ian’s dead.”

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
Wild
wood,” 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.”

This was news to Ethan. In fact, it was a direct contradiction to the story Pops had told the family about how he’d come by Homie their whole lives. He pinned his grandfather with a look. “You told us you found him loose on the freeway.”

Harlan got that deer-in-the-headlights look for a millisecond before he shooed Ethan’s accusation away like a fly. “That’s how he got to the shelter, not to me.”

Bullshit.
He knew his grandfather well enough to know a tale when he heard it.

He returned his gaze to Delaney and Homie. She had his furry head in both hands, smiling down at the dog with such joy, Ethan’s heart ached. Leaning in, she buried her face in the fur on the side of his neck and wrapped her arms around him. Watching her show such open, raw love to an animal Ethan hadn’t even realized she’d known made the strangest synapses connect in his brain, creating thoughts that didn’t make any sense but that filled his head anyway.

Did she look that happy when she hung on Ethan the same way? Had he discounted her affection toward him as merely physical when she obviously held more affection for Homie and treated Ethan the same way?

Could
she actually
love
him? Did he even want that? And what was that electric current suddenly spiraling through his chest? Fear? Excitement?

Love?

Wait. Time out.

Was he
really
comparing himself to a
dog
?

He shook all that crap from his head, made a couple of quick timing calculations, and applied his frustration toward his grandfather.

“She loved that dog,” he said with a clear edge of accusation in his voice. “He was probably the only pure, unconditional source of love in her life. Then you wandered into that kennel after Grandma passed away, and she saw a wounded soul. She gave you that damn dog to patch up your old rusty heart, didn’t she? You lied to us all these years.”