Forbidden Fling (Wildwood Book 1) by Skye Jordan Read Free Book Online

goddamned silver platter, and he’d blown it—the definition of loser if he’d ever heard one.
    “What’s the score?” The female voice made the skin along Ethan’s neck tingle.
    Delaney.
    He snapped his head toward her as she leaned lazily into the bar, her gaze on the screen.
    Ethan’s heart tripped all over itself. His throat narrowed around a lump of excitement, of disbelief. Her scent drifted to him, bringing with it the memory of the way her lips felt against his. The erotic way she stroked her tongue into his mouth. The fit of their bodies together.
    And he went instantly hard.
    Her gaze lowered and met his. Her eyes were blue. Not sky blue, not gray blue, but stormy blue. The color fit her perfectly. Her brows lifted, and a little smile tipped her mouth. “Score?”
    Hell yes, he wanted to score. He wanted to hammer out a home run. Nail a grand slam.
    Ethan cleared his throat. “Nine to six. Giants are—”
    “Winning,” she said with a small smile. “The Pirates suck this year.”
    And she liked baseball? Could she get any more perfect?
    Gus, the bartender, passed on his way to the opposite end of the bar and paused. “Hey, Delaney. Get you a drink?”
    “Hey, Gus. Tonic and lime, please.”
    He nodded, then glanced at Ethan’s empty. “Want another?”
    “I’m good, thanks.” When the bartender moved away, he asked Delaney, “How does Gus know you?”
    “We met earlier, remember? That shot of tequila?”
    “Right. What’s up with the tonic and lime? Did my beer push you over the edge?”
    “My buzz is long gone.” She lifted a hand and brushed her fingers through his hair at the temple in an intensely intimate gesture. “And I get the feeling I’m going to want to remember every minute with you.”
    Holy. Shit.
    Tingles spread through his stomach. He wanted to pinch himself. If he woke up in a cold sweat, alone in his bed, he might jump off a bridge.
    But there was still something . . . off . . . about her. The spark in her eyes was gone. “I didn’t think you were going to show. Thought your talk with Phoebe scared you away.”
    “We didn’t talk about you. I was going to ask, but she was so focused on the bar, there wasn’t an opportunity. And, of course, any discussion over that place always tanks my mood, so I didn’t plan on coming. But then I was in my car, lost in thought, and I found myself headed this direction. If you were bad news, it would have been the first thing out of her mouth once you were out of earshot. That tells me a lot about you.”
    She turned and pressed her back to the wood behind her. Her hip brushed his knee, and when she settled, she left it there.
    And, yeah. He should tell her that her interpretations weren’t accurate, and that if Phoebe had known what Ethan had on his mind, she would have definitely warned Delaney away.
    But, no. He really didn’t want to.
    And, hell, what did it really matter?
    “Here’s the thing.” She shifted closer and laid her hand on his thigh. Pressure registered first, then her heat penetrated the fabric, spreading up his leg and through his groin. “I’ve had a really, really rough month. A month I really don’t want to talk about. And I’m only in town for a very short time.
    “I wasn’t looking for any kind of hookup until I saw you. For you, with you, I would be willing to do something easy and fun and light. But you need to know that’s all I do. I don’t do ties or boyfriends or dates or family. You know my past, so you know why I’m not made that way, and why I won’t be sticking around. So, I know all I need to know.”
    This confirmed it: Delaney Hart was perfection personified.
    Gus returned with Delaney’s drink, and she lifted it to her lips without taking her eyes off Ethan. He’d never felt this . . . this . . .  electric connection with anyone before. He didn’t know if it was just the thrill of a fantasy come true, some wild pheromones she emitted, or a true chemistry