The Heartless Boyfriend

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The Heartless Boyfriend Page 12

by Erika Kelly


  Joe kept the house so she could have Christmas morning in the family room off the kitchen and Thanksgiving in the formal dining room upstairs, but her memories, her heart, was in Da Nonna’s kitchen. The utility closet still had the same step stool her mom had bought from Grace’s Hardware so Delilah could stand in front of her dad while he stuffed shells and beat whipping cream.

  She’d done her homework at the table by the window, while the wait staff set up for dinner, her mom’s voice on the phone taking reservations, her dad bustling about as he fielded one distribution problem after another.

  She’d absorbed the smells and sounds of that restaurant into every fiber of her being.

  But Delilah was not the sort to wallow in self-pity. That’s not my style. She had a competition to win. The first event was tomorrow—well, tonight. It had to be past midnight by now. Ideas for hors d’oeuvres swirled and spun, spitting out images now and then, a toast point, a clam shell, a dollop of sour cream. Her go-to ingredients in New York City didn’t interest her. She wanted to use what grew here.

  Thanks to the Chamber of Commerce, she’d put together a list of the Farmers Markets and sustainable farms and ranches in the region. She couldn’t wait to visit them and talk to the owners to see what grew locally and who provided the products that didn’t come from the area.

  Okay, guess what? I’m not going to fall asleep.

  Throwing back the covers, she dropped out of the enormous bed and snatched her brother’s Cornell T-shirt off the floor. She pulled it on and jammed her feet into flip flops. Opening the door, she nearly had a heart attack when she found Ruby waiting in the hallway.

  “Oh, sweet pea.” The moment she reached for the little girl, acting on her impulse to bring her into the kitchen with her—she stopped herself. She couldn’t live here and ignore Will’s rules. “Can’t sleep?”

  “I hongry.”

  What harm could there be in getting her a yogurt?

  Will doesn’t want you to. That’s reason enough. “How ‘bout we make pancakes for breakfast? I’ll put some chocolate chips in them, okay?”

  She lifted the arm that didn’t hold Squawk, ready to go. “Make cakes.”

  “We can’t do it now, Ruby, because it’s the middle of the night.” She says, as she’s heading downstairs to get to work like it’s afternoon. Confusing much? “But I promise we’ll make them in the morning.”

  “It morneen.” Ruby tossed Squawk over the gate and then kicked off her puffy chicken slippers. Clutching the white rods, she hoisted herself up. Like a monkey, she got a grip of the bar between her toes, gaining the traction she needed to climb higher. It took her all of two seconds to get to the top of the gate.

  “Ruby.” Sorry, but she couldn’t help laughing. Nothing would stop this girl from getting what she wanted. Hooking an arm around her waist, Delilah pulled the little girl off the gate and turned her in her arms.

  “Make cakes now?”

  How the hell did Will say no to this fierce little girl? Everything in her screamed to take Ruby downstairs and make the damn pancakes. It’s the right thing to do. Forcing her to stay in that strange bedroom, scared and alone, was plain wrong.

  But…dammit, she had to honor Will’s wishes. “Sweetheart, we can—”

  “Ruby.” That deep, rumbly voice startled the hell out of her.

  Will stalked towards them. If she’d had a black light, she’d see the angry fluorescence radiating off him. Before he even reached them, Ruby hurled herself toward him, forcing him to lunge forward.

  The three of them stood so close she could smell him, the scent of laundry detergent, the hint of pine forest, and the unique essence of Will.

  He adjusted his sister in his arms, cupping her chin so she’d pay attention. “You need to stay in bed until I come get you. Do you understand?”

  “Wheel.” It was a chastising tone, as if he was just being ridiculous.

  And it was exactly that kind of confidence that made Delilah love this child so damn much.

  “Wally make cake. Shock-let cake. Come wif us.”

  Wally? Funny, because her nephew couldn’t say Delilah either and called her La-lee. She’d always gotten a kick out of that, but she loved Wally even more. The whole world should call me that.

  Chef Wally.

  “No, Ruby.” He rocked that stern, commanding tone, but the hilarious part was that Ruby couldn’t have cared less. “If you want pancakes for breakfast, you have to go back to bed right now, and you have to stay there until I come get you in the morning.” He headed toward her bedroom.

  “Wake now. Wally make cake.”

  They slipped inside her room and, even though she knew she should go downstairs, Delilah waited, listening. She should get into the kitchen—that’s where her ideas popped—and start thinking about a list of possible ingredients, but she couldn’t move. Which was stupid because she shouldn’t be so invested in this family that wasn’t hers.

  But she just really needed Will to make his sister feel safe right now. Love her, Will.

  Sheets rustled, the mattress squeaked, and she imagined his big body sitting on the edge of her bed as he tucked her in.

  “You can make pancakes for breakfast, Ruby. Not in the middle of the night.” The bed squeaked again. “Goodnight.” His bare feet padded toward the door and then stopped. “Ruby.” This time his tone tried really hard to be stern. “What did I tell you? Get back in bed until I come get you in the morning.”

  “No. Wif you, Wheel.”

  Something was different in her voice, something wobbly, and it broke Delilah’s heart. If he put that little girl back to bed right now, she’d didn’t think she could stand it.

  It might not be her place to rock Ruby to sleep with the whir of the beaters and the hum of the refrigerator like her mom had done for her, but she knew it would soothe her—and that was all that mattered.

  She’s scared.

  She misses her mom.

  He had to know Ruby wasn’t going to sleep, that he was sentencing her to more terrifying loneliness. She’d sit in that stupid half-crib baby bed thing all alone in the dark, fear turning shadows into monsters and creaks into howls, wondering what the hell was taking her mom so long to come get her.

  “Do you want to run with me in the morning?”

  “Yes.” Oh, that tiny, little voice. Scared, yet holding strong in the face of the man she’d chosen to love.

  “Then you need to get back in bed and go to sleep. If you do, I’ll take you on a run with me.”

  Ruby sighed, the bed squeaked.

  “Good night, Ruby. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

  She should go, skedaddle before she got caught listening in the hallway. But the room went excruciatingly silent.

  And it took everything Delilah had not to peek inside and see what was happening.

  Chapter Ten

  She’s killing me.

  Will stood in the room that smelled of baby powder and raspberry jam and watched Ruby’s lower lip wobble. It’s one in the morning. She has to learn to sleep through the night.

  What the hell am I supposed to do?

  On one side, he had the books telling him to put her back to bed. On the other, he had Delilah warning him Ruby was scared in this room. That she needed Will to stay with her until she felt safe enough to fall asleep.

  Delilah was an intuitive, impulsive woman, and—oddly—he trusted her. But she wasn’t an expert, and this situation was too important to screw up.

  So, what should he do? Let Delilah take her to the kitchen and make pancakes?

  It had worked that first night. No doubt, Ruby had been crashed out in Delilah’s arms. Point for Delilah.

  But the books promised if he stuck with the program, she’d adjust more quickly to her new world. And what was more important? Satisfying her immediate needs or helping her become a well-adjusted young woman? Point for the books.

  He didn’t know.

  He just didn’t fucking know.

&nbs
p; And he wished like hell his dad were here to help him. But he wasn’t, and his brothers weren’t in town, so it was all on him.

  He’d talked to an old friend of his dad’s yesterday, a retired therapist. She’d confirmed everything the books said: enforce the routine so she adjusted to her new normal. The first few weeks would be tough, but she’d be better off for it in the long run.

  Trust me, Will. Consistency will make her feel safe, loved.

  Point for the therapist.

  Every step he took out of her room tugged on the thread that tied him to that little girl.

  But…he had to go with the therapist’s advice.

  Walking away required him to draw on every ounce of his discipline, but he had to trust that Ruby wanted to run with him badly enough that she’d stay in bed. He knew she would.

  That’s what the therapist says, anyway.

  He walked down the hallway, visualizing her in bed, breaths evening out. That sweet baby face relaxed as she dozed off.

  When he reached the gate, though, he couldn’t help himself. He had to check.

  Please don’t be there, Ruby.

  He glanced back.

  His spirit crashed when he found her standing in the hallway, watching him with sad eyes.

  Consistency will make her feel safe, loved.

  He didn’t want to do this. He wanted to light a match and burn the words that were about to come out of his mouth. But he had a job to do. A tough one. And, in the end, it would help her settle in.

  He drew in a breath. “I told you, that if you wanted to go on a run with me in the morning, you needed to stay in bed until I come get you.”

  She sucked in a shuddery breath. The orange glow from the night light he’d plugged into the hallway socket made the welling tears glitter.

  “So, that means you can’t come with me tomorrow, Ruby.”

  “Come wif you.”

  “No, Ruby. Not tomorrow. Because you didn’t stay in your room.” His pulse raced. “Now get back to bed so you can come with me on Tuesday.”

  She stood there watching him.

  “Do you want to come with me on Tuesday?” How the hell did she know what Tuesday meant? Shut up. He had to trust the professionals.

  She nodded.

  “Then get back to bed and wait for me to come get you in the morning.”

  Her bottom lip trembled, and she looked like she wanted to break down and bawl like the baby she was, but finally—thank Christ—she turned and went back into her room.

  He turned around to go down the stairs and walked right into Delilah.

  “We need to talk.” She whipped around.

  He nodded and followed her down the stairs and across the living room.

  She flipped the switch, and he squinted against the bright lights of the white kitchen. Throwing open a cabinet, she pulled out a silver bowl and slammed it on the counter. Silverware jostled as a utensil drawer jerked open.

  “You wanted to talk?” He needed to get to sleep. He needed eight hours a night, no exceptions.

  “I did. I do. I’m just too damn angry right now. Give me a minute.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m frustrated, too. I get that you want to give Ruby what she needs in this moment, but there’s more at stake for me. I’m setting her up for life. It’s my job to help her become a well-adjusted person.” He squeezed his eyes closed, fingers pressing hard on his forehead. “She’s my sister. I can’t mess up with her.” He had to be thoughtful, do research, in this very complicated and delicate situation.

  All that was positive and bright about Delilah boiled off, leaving a hard ball of anger. “I understand.”

  She didn’t, but that was okay. Delilah came from a good place. She led by the heart, and he wasn’t angry with her.

  She pried the lid off the flour tub. “Thank you for letting me stay here. I really appreciate it.” Scooping out a cup, she dropped it into the bowl, white dust flying up. “But, since I’ll be in town longer than we discussed, I should probably find someplace else to live. Callie mentioned the bunk house?”

  “I told you that you can stay here.” His reaction surprised him. It was for the best that she move out, wasn’t it? He didn’t need the distraction, and Ruby didn’t need to get attached to someone who wasn’t staying.

  “Honestly?” She set the measuring spoons down. “I can’t stand watching what you’re doing to Ruby. I can’t stand her alone in that bedroom, when she’s wide awake. And I know it’s not my business. I know you’re doing what you think is best, but I know it’s wrong. I just do. She’s terrified, Will. And you just mindfucked her to get her stay in a room that scares the crap out of her.”

  “You think I want to turn her away?”

  “I think you need your eight hours a night.” She tipped her chin toward the metal sign hanging in the mud room.

  Eat well, train hard, sleep = champion.

  Coach had designed that when Will was thirteen and struggling with his tricks. It had remained there ever since. “I do, but you’re wrong if you think this is about me. I’ve done a lot of research on this, and I’m using a program that works.”

  “A program? That works? She’s not a project. She’s not an assignment. She’s a little girl who lost her mom, and all she wants is for someone to hug her. Kiss her all over her face. Snuggle with her. She needs—”

  “Yeah, Delilah, I know exactly what she needs. Her mom. A dad. But I can’t give her that.” Jesus fuck. “You think this isn’t tearing me apart? And hearing your perspective only makes it worse. Of course, I don’t want her up there terrified, but I also know the sooner I get her used to her new normal, the sooner she’ll feel safe and loved. Look, I don’t want you to move out. I want you to stay, but if you can’t respect what I’m doing…” He did not need this shit. He took in a deep breath, settled himself. This is just business. She’s a houseguest. “The bunkhouse is taken, and so are the cottages. But I’ll see what else I can come up with.” Dammit, he shouldn’t care. He should be relieved.

  And he would be. He turned to go, when she called out to him.

  “Will…I know I’m making it harder. I feel terrible about sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong. I’m really, genuinely sorry.” She came closer. “You’re a good man. A really good one, and I know I should stay out of it—I promised myself I would…but I don’t care what the books say. She needs your love.”

  “It’s not just books. I’m talking to a therapist.”

  “You are?”

  “An old friend of my dad’s. She’s helping me out.”

  “Okay.” She looked back to the bowl and wooden spoon.

  “Okay, you understand that I’m doing what’s best for her?” And you’ll respect it so you can stay here and keep my house full of your smiles?

  “No. Okay, I understand that you’re doing what a therapist who doesn’t live here and has never met Ruby or seen her wide awake in the middle of the night is telling you to do. Because I can guarantee, if she was the one who found Ruby climbing the gate at midnight, ready to party with the pancakes, she would give you totally different advice. She would understand that Ruby’s wondering when her mom’s coming back to get her. And that, while she’s waiting, she’s chosen her big, stubborn brother to love her and make her feel safe. And she’d tell you to go into that bedroom right now and crawl into bed with her and read her a story until she falls asleep.”

  He stepped closer to her. “And what happens after I move on? Is she going to crawl into bed with Fin and Callie? Will she even give two shits when it’s Gray’s shift? Or will she give up altogether? It sucks right now, but I have to get her to sleep through the night, so she can learn to do it on her own. The best gift I can give her is teaching her to self-sooth. Independence.”

  “Later, Will. Do all of that later. Right now, tonight, make her feel safe.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m doing. Trying to make her feel safe.”

  “With rules and routine?”

  “Yes,
Delilah.”

  “Come on, Will. She needs your reassurance not your stupid rules.”

  “I know it works.” Jesus, he was shouting now. “Because it worked for me.”

  Her features sharpened with curiosity.

  Shit. Well, he’d opened up that can of worms. Maybe she should hear it so she’d understand. “When my mom left, when she took my brothers and moved to New York, I went from having a big, loud family to just…me.”

  She looked sick about it.

  “Before, my dad worked all the time, and my mom didn’t do much with us, but my brothers and I were inseparable. We were wild and crazy and loud and…fucking happy. So, without them, I was alone.”

  “That had to have been so scary.”

  Deeply, terrifyingly lonely. “It was.” He’d never told anyone about this before. Not his brothers, not his father. No one.

  “Just like Ruby is right now,” Delilah said. “Only you were older, so you understood what was going on.”

  “I suppose, at eleven, I should have understood, but I really didn’t. My life changed overnight. One day I had a big, loud family, and the next morning it was just me and my dad. It took a few months for him to get things in order, but he wound up retiring. He hired Marcella and Coach, and from that point on they gave me a schedule and expectations and rules. And it worked. I can tell you from experience, the feelings of helplessness and loss and fear…it all went away with that routine. So, when I hear the therapist telling me to give Ruby consistency, it fits with what worked for me. That structure my dad imposed? It worked. It made me feel safe.”

  She pushed off the counter and wrapped her arms around him. “Will,” she whispered.

  He didn’t know what to do with all her softness and warmth and…and…sweetness. She was just too much for him. He wanted to push her away, tell her he was fine, to go make her pancakes or whatever she was making. He just couldn’t get his arms to cooperate.

  But, instead of reading his body language, his impulsive houseguest hugged him tighter, her hands caressing his back.

  It unnerved him. And, oh, fuck, that telltale tingling at the base of his spine meant the blood was rushing to his dick, making him hard.

 

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