Smolder: The Wildwood Series (11 page)

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 right 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

D
ELILAH TOOK
W
REN
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.

Together.

“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.

L
ANE 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.

But maybe he wasn’t. Seeing his mom crumple to the floor had taken his fucking breath away. Calming Wren had been near impossible. He’d needed his sister to be strong in that moment and she’d ended up so incredibly weak. He couldn’t worry about his baby sister while their mother lay unconscious on the floor.

Somehow, he’d managed. Somehow, he’d remained calm enough to take care of business and get his mother into an ambulance. It didn’t matter that she was fine and that they all might’ve made a huge deal over nothing. It hadn’t felt like nothing at the time.

It had felt like something huge and unstoppable. His heart had galloped in his chest as if it were running a marathon. He’d wanted to panic. To punch a wall and throw back his head and scream, “Why?” Then he’d realized that he was being an overdramatic fool and behaving just like his crying sister, who actually seemed calmer than he was.

That had been a realization. Seeing his mom, taking her to the hospital, had been a huge realization as well. But hearing his mother’s theory on why he should be with Delilah was the biggest realization of them all. The one that had sent him reeling. The one he couldn’t stop thinking about.

The one he regretted telling Delilah and then dismissing as not true. He didn’t actually regret telling her. She deserved to know. But she’d given him an answer in return—one that made him feel so many things all at once, emotions he couldn’t put his finger on—and he didn’t know what to do next.

He automatically wanted to push her away. Say something stupid or shitty or even polite yet noncommittal and get her out of his house so he could be alone with his thoughts. His sad little depressing thoughts that really didn’t want to be alone—they wanted to be with her.
He
wanted to be with her. Lane wanted to be with Delilah.

“Come here,” he whispered, going on gut instinct, ignoring the temptation to bolt. He opened his arms, and she walked into them, her arms sliding around his waist, her head resting against his chest. He felt the way she melted into him, her body seeming to fuse with his, the fit so fucking perfect he could do nothing but revel in it.

She felt good in his arms. The scent of her hair, soft and silky as it brushed against his jaw, the feeling of her pressed close, his lips on her forehead, the hitch in her breath when his mouth made contact with her skin. It was undeniable, what they shared. The attraction, the chemistry between them, how it always sizzled, growing bigger and bigger until it became undeniable. He’d been fighting it for so long, denying himself when it was inevitable.

It was time to stop thinking of running away from Delilah and start focusing on giving in to her.

“Thank you for helping me with Wren today,” he said quietly, not wanting to disturb the moment but needing to show his gratitude.

“She’s one of my best friends. I wanted to be there for her and for your mom.” Delilah tilted her head back, her gaze meeting his. “But I also did it for you.”

“I know.” He did. Cupping the side of her face, he let his gaze roam over her features, drinking them in. He was baffled why he was so entranced by her. Not because she wasn’t attractive—she was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever known—but she was so much more than that to him. He’d just never realized it before.

Not until he had her in his arms. Not until what happened earlier today reminded him that he couldn’t do this alone. He didn’t think he wanted to. He wanted someone. He needed someone.

That someone was Delilah.

He drifted his thumb across her bottom lip. It was plump and soft, and she parted her lips, her tongue touching just the tip of his finger. That one tiny touch sent heat shooting through his veins and he removed his thumb from her lips.

Replaced it with his mouth.

They kissed. It was deep and hot and wet. With plenty of tongue and murmured whispers and their hands sliding everywhere, all at once. He grabbed hold of her and lifted, plopping her on the edge of the counter. Her thighs spread invitingly, making room for him to step closer. She pulled him back in for a kiss, never missing a beat, her lips hungry, her hands ravenous, her low whimpers stirring up an answering hunger in him that made him want to rip her clothes off and feast on her.

She broke the kiss first, her breathing accelerated, her eyes hazy as they met his. “Pick me up,” she demanded.