“Unfortunately, yeah. They’re investigating it. I’m sure whoever did it will get caught soon.” He paused. “You need to be careful.”
She didn’t like the way he just said that. His words made her nervous. “Be careful of what?”
He ignored her question. “I’d hate to see anything happen here. Or to you.”
Oh. So his coming in here hadn’t just been about giving her a lecture. He sounded genuinely concerned. His tone of voice, and especially the look in his eyes, gave her hope. Hope that maybe he’d get over whatever problem he had when it came to the two of them getting naked together and he’d finally give in.
“Well, thank you, Deputy Gallagher. Maybe I should keep the door locked during the quiet hours when only one of us is in here,” she said, taking a step closer. Oh, she could smell him. Crisp and clean like he’d just lathered up that big body of his with a bar of soap, getting his skin all slick and sudsy before he rinsed off. What she’d give to be a bar of soap in Lane’s shower . . .
Okay. She’d jumped right off the deep end and landed squarely in psycho land.
“That’s a good idea, Dee. It would make me feel better, especially since Wren’s here so much.” He nodded at her once—old-timey cowboy back in action—before he turned on his heel and hustled his very fine ass straight out of her studio, the door slamming shut behind him.
Dropping her hands at her sides, she clenched them into fists and . . .
Screamed. At the very top of her lungs. Not caring if the dude in the liquor store next door heard her. Not giving a shit if the ladies at Clip & Dip, the pet groomer place on the other side, heard either. Not really giving a rat’s ass if Lane Gallagher himself heard her. She was over chasing after him. Over. It. The man feigned concern for her when really he was watching out for his little sister.
That was great and all. Wanting to ensure that his sister was safe didn’t make him a monster. She could appreciate it. But Lane wanted her. She knew it. Could feel the attraction brewing between them, and they’d had a few near misses. Almost kisses, too-long hugs, too-lingering glances. And he knew she wanted him. Had been halfway in love with him for years. Yet he wouldn’t do anything about it. Nothing.
Well, fine. Neither would she. But that one long scream had felt damn good. Super good.
“My goodness, are you okay in here?” Pam Leonard, the owner of the pet salon, barged into the studio, her hands dripping with water and dog shampoo, her eyes so wide they looked like they were ready to bug out of her head. “I heard screaming!”
Taking a deep breath, Delilah smiled, feeling serene for the first time in what seemed like forever. “It was me. I’m fine, Pam.” Her smile grew, as did the knot in her stomach. Uh-oh. What did that mean? “Just fine.”
LANE DROVE THE streets of Wildwood in his deputy patrol car just under the speed limit, his gaze everywhere, his mind focused on only one thing:
Making sure his little hometown was safe.
Safe from crime, safe from reckless teenagers, safe from careless tourists, and safe from a ruthless arsonist who seemed hell-bent on destroying Wildwood, one little annoying fire after another.
He frowned. Had to take back that last remark. The restaurant fire could’ve been a tragedy. So many people had been in there when the fire started. Eyewitness accounts mentioned just how chaotic it had become when everyone tried to escape at once. His sister had been in there, as well as her friend Harper. And . . .
Delilah.
Now he flat-out scowled, wishing Delilah wouldn’t creep into his thoughts. She was always there, sitting in the back of his mind, taunting him.
Teasing him.
He’d stopped by her dance studio like he couldn’t help himself. He’d known Wren wasn’t there, but Delilah’s car had been parked out front. He’d walked in like a man possessed, needing just a glimpse after not having seen her since the day of the restaurant fire.
When he held her in his arms, relieved to find her safe.
When he’d been so damn close to kissing her.
When he’d shoved her away with a curt, “Glad you’re okay,” and gone about his business, reminding himself over and over he shouldn’t want her.
But he did.
Avoiding her never worked. He’d catch glimpses of her here and there—the town was too small and their circle of friends too tight—but he’d tried his best. Focused on work, which was his first true love. The fact that she distracted him so wholly scared the hell out of him most of the time.
And then there were the other times when all he could think about was seeing her. Making her smile or even making her mad, it didn’t matter. As long as he could stare at her, even for just a little bit, that was all that mattered.
He’d entered the dance studio and her scent lingered in the air, making his body stiffen. Hearing her voice call out had made him close his eyes so he could savor it and he’d turned around, not wanting her to see his face when she finally came out to greet him. Still wasn’t prepared when he turned and saw her.
That little bra top thing she wore hid nothing. So much skin on display, though he was sort of mad her legs were covered up. They were her best asset, and he’d imagined those long, lean legs of hers wrapped around his hips more than once. It had taken everything in him to keep his gaze glued on her pretty, pissed-off face and not blatantly check her out like he wanted.
She was angry with him because he wouldn’t make a move, but he couldn’t. She’d been with West a long time ago and he didn’t poach off his brothers. Yeah, yeah, West had moved on with Harper and they made a perfect couple. They seemed perfectly in love. Perfectly happy. He knew West wouldn’t give a shit if he made a move on Delilah.