by Erika Kelly
When it connected, Fin’s face took up the screen. “Saw your runs, man. Well done. Congratulations.”
“Shame about that last rotation.” Brodie pushed into the frame. “Guess you got a little tuckered out.”
“Shut the f—”
“Wheel?” Ruby shrieked and little feet slapped on the kitchen floor. “Dat you, Wheel?” She slipped under Fin’s arm and climbed onto his lap, forcing her way between his chest and the kitchen table. Fin was cracking up, and Ruby stared at the screen like Santa had just offered her a week-vacation at the North Pole.
“Wheel.” Relief saturated her tone, as her hand touched the screen.
“Hi, sweetheart.” His heart beat so thick and hard he thought it might explode. “Ruby.” He just needed to say her name out loud.
“Come home, Wheel? Come home to Wooby?”
“I—” He looked into those earnest blue eyes, filled with hope and trust, and everything he’d believed about life—structure and focus, rules and restraint—fell away.
He’d clung to all of that when his mom had left him behind. It had helped. Replaced the fear with something constructive. But he didn’t need—or want—it anymore.
After his win, dozens of athletes had gathered around to celebrate him, swearing they’d known all along he hadn’t cheated, shouting that he was the best skier in the world—and it hadn’t moved the meter.
Now that Ruby and Delilah had gifted him with a whole new dimension to life, all the accolades felt hollow.
He looked at his little girl, and he knew. No, he wasn’t her dad. But so what?
So fucking what? It just didn’t matter. He was all-in. “I have one stop to make before I come home, but I’ll be back this weekend.”
“You don’t have to do that, it’s my turn,” Fin said.
“Thanks for watching her for me while I was out of town, but I’m coming home to my girl.”
Fin’s eyes widened, and Ruby’s smile turned ebullient. He wouldn’t get her hopes up, but he hoped the next time he saw her, he’d have a special gift for her. For them.
The last time he’d seen Delilah, she’d wanted to sit down and talk to him, and he hadn’t let her. Instead, he’d asked her to go.
Ever since then, it had been grinding through him. What if they’d talked? What if he’d told her he loved her so much he’d do anything to be with her? They might’ve found a way to stay together, but he’d never gotten to find out because he’d pushed her out the door.
But, now, the answer seemed so simple. She shouldn’t give up this amazing opportunity to run her own franchise, so he’d move to New York.
Whatever it took for them to be together, he’d make it happen, because he’d never love anyone the way he loved that woman. In his heart he knew—he fucking knew—they were a family. Delilah owned him heart and soul. Ruby, too.
“Home to Wooby?”
“That’s right, sweet pea. I’m coming home to Ruby.”
Will stowed his duffle bag in the luggage compartment before settling into his seat. When he pulled his phone out of his back pocket, it leaped out of his hands, and he had to squat to find it.
Funny how he could dub cork, ten blunt without a single frayed nerve, but going to New York to get his girl had his stomach in knots.
He only found it, because it started vibrating. He checked the screen but didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”
“Will? This is Coach Davis.”
Awareness pierced through the anxiety, situating him firmly in the moment. The U.S. Halfpipe ski coach would only be calling for one reason.
“Hey.” He probably shouldn’t have sounded so blasé.
The man laughed. “Hey. Listen, congratulations on your outstanding performance at Freefest. I know I never should have seen it, but I did, and I want you on the team.”
Will kicked off his untied boots and stretched his legs out in front of him. “Well, I appreciate the offer, but I’ve been banned from the sport.”
“You didn’t hear?” He sounded surprised. “Your name’s been cleared.”
“No, I hadn’t.” He’d gone straight to the private airport and boarded his plane, only one thought on his mind: getting to Delilah.
“There’s zero evidence supporting Damien’s accusations. Besides, your performance in Freefest puts any doubts to rest. In any event, I’ve known you and your family a long time, and I never questioned your integrity. Look, I know you’re probably celebrating, so I won’t keep you on the phone. I’ll have Cliff send you the competition schedule. We’re going to start training at the Utah center in two weeks, so I’ll talk to you more then.”
His uncle was right. On some level, Will had thought winning a gold medal would be the sure-fire way to make his mom see him as a good man. That it would make her love him. But Will was done with that. He no longer gave two shits what she thought of him. He cared about being the best damn brother to Ruby and the best damn husband to Delilah he could be.
He remembered that morning when Delilah and Ruby had come running towards him with cookie dough on their fingers, their bright, clever eyes shining, as they burst out laughing. He felt it all the way down to the soles of his feet, his body alive, electrified. “No.”
“Excuse me?”
If he wanted to honor his dad, he simply needed to be a good man. If he needed to prove something to himself, he’d already done it with his seven medals.
“Thank you for the offer, but I’m officially retired.”
Delilah reached for her pen and crossed out penne. She really loved the ribbony look of the pappardelle noodle in the bowl, so she’d use that instead. Flipping to the next page in her notebook, she scanned the braised bison recipe. Her taste buds lit up at the thought of adding marjoram and hazelnuts, so she noted those additions. Yes. Better.
That one’s a winner.
On the next page, she really loved the confit goose, peach, butter lettuce, and dried cranberry salad, but she crossed out peach and put in fig. Not only did she like fresh figs, but she’d like to give the owner of the hydroponic farm the business.
She turned to the kouneli stifado recipe; that was her favorite dish. Not changing a thing about that one. Well, she’d use quail instead of rabbit. The Tale of Peter Rabbit and all. Her mom used to read her those books.
“Hey.” Her sister pushed open the door with a big box. Looking around the crowded office, she said, “Where can I put this?”
“What is it?”
Bree set it on the desk, on top of a pile of invoices. “You were talking about making those mixed media pieces using some of Mom and Dad’s things, so I brought you some stuff from home.”
“Really?” She got up to hug her sister. “Thank you so much.” Peering into the box, she saw her parent’s wedding picture. They’d gotten married at the city clerk’s office on Worth Street in the late seventies. Her mom had tamed all her long blonde hair into a conservative bun, while her dad wore a short-sleeve button down, jeans, and flip flops.
The day after tomorrow, when she went back for the final event, she’d bring all this stuff with her. Give them to Callie to see what she could do with them. It would be nice décor for the new franchise, a mix of memorabilia from Nonna Abelli’s era to the new generation. “This is amazing.” When she looked up, she found her sister reading her notebook.
“What is this?” Her sister didn’t look angry so much as worried.
“It’s not for Da Nonna’s, don’t worry.”
“Then what’s it for?”
“My menu for the final competition.” She suspected her family wanted her focused on the proposal she needed to put together for Dino Romano, but that would have to wait. Her top priority was the competition. “No matter what happens here, I still want to win.” They were really good recipes, though. Shame not to use them.
“Sure, yeah. It’ll be good promotion for the new franchise.”
The meeting had gone well, and her family seemed excited about the potential to expand th
eir brand. But Delilah hadn’t given an answer. She suggested they talk more when she got back from Calamity.
Because it was hard to concentrate when the rhythm of her heart beat in synch with Will’s.
“Bison?” Her sister flipped a few more pages. “Kouneli stifado?”
“Yeah, well, it’s pretty much anything goes out there. Well, as long as it involves meat.”
Her sister didn’t return her smile. “These look really good, keiki.”
“Honestly, I think I have a real chance of winning.” She reached for the document she’d printed out. “I finished the proposal. Not that the judges care—it’s only for the chefs who want to be considered for the spa restaurant—but I’m turning mine in anyway.” It’s that good.
Her sister set the notebook down. “Why would you do that? You’re not taking the job, so wouldn’t it be unfair to mislead them?”
“They might not choose any of us, but at least I can give them my ideas.” And let someone else run with them? “All of my products are locally sourced and sustainably grown, and I’m using the names of local outlaws for the dishes...” Each word that came out of her mouth tugged the string that tightened her sister’s features. “Never mind.”
“No, that sounds great, Delilah.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty cool. I invited a group of local chefs, farmers, and ranchers over to the house for a tasting party Wednesday night.” She really didn’t want to miss that. “Just to try out all the dishes so I could tweak them before the competition.”
Her sister couldn’t hide the pain in her eyes.
“Delilah?” One of the waiters leaned into the room. “The Sullivans want to say hey.”
Stepping around her sister, she smoothed her chef’s jacket. “Sure. I’ll do that now.” She turned to Bree. “You going to hang around?”
Her sister nodded but looked defeated.
On her way out of the kitchen, she stopped to taste the sauce from the line cook she’d hired last spring. He insisted on adding chopped fresh basil and pepper. She’d give him one more chance, and then he’d have to go.
No, the irony was not lost on her. She’d become her brother.
As she entered the dining room, several patrons looked up with welcoming smiles. They loved private visits from the chef, and her dad had made sure they all respected that tradition. She stopped at the table of an elderly couple who’d been regulars for as long as Delilah had been old enough to remember.
“Mrs. Sullivan, Mr. Sullivan, so nice to see you.” She shook both of their bony hands, the skin like parchment paper. “How is everything tonight?”
“Oh, we’re just in heaven. The alfredo’s out of this world. We’re thrilled that we happened to come in the night you’re back in the kitchen. The food’s just not the same without you.”
Delilah’s smile faltered. Actually, it was. It was exactly the same. Against her brother’s wishes, she’d been adding special touches to the old standards for years. The new franchise would only sanction what she’d been doing all along.
But she didn’t want to put Jicama in the house salad. She wanted to make kouneli stifado and wild boar ragù.
She loved her family—of course she did, but she missed Calamity, the town, the people, the mountain lifestyle.
Ruby.
And being away from Will was killing her. She craved him. Every minute of every day.
“I’m so glad you’re enjoying it.” She couldn’t keep ignoring the insistent voice, the one that told her exactly where she belonged. The potential for success with Dino Romano was enormous, but it wouldn’t satisfy her soul. And what did success matter if she didn’t have the man she loved? “Can I tempt you with a creamy rose panna cotta tonight?”
“Oh, that sounds divine.”
“My gift to you for being so devoted to us all these years.” Heart pounding, she excused herself and hurried back into the kitchen.
She would always be close with her family. They’d be with her anywhere she went.
But her heart lived somewhere else.
She made a bee-line across the busy kitchen, desperate to get back to her office and change her flight. She’d started something good, special, in Calamity. Something that was uniquely hers. And she wanted it.
She hoped to God her family would understand.
As she entered the office, her sister looked up from Delilah’s notebook. “I told them.”
“You told them what?”
“This isn’t right for you.” Bree gestured around the room. “But they’d already given the franchise to Jeannie, and they couldn’t take it back. They didn’t know how else to get you home, so when Mr. Romano called, it seemed like the perfect solution. But it’s not right for you.” She waved the notebook. “You’re so creative. You have a gift. And I’m not sure swapping out mascarpone for lemon curd in the tiramisu is going to be enough for you.” She set the notebook down and cupped Delilah’s elbows. “I don’t want to lose you, but even more, I want you to be happy.”
“He makes me happy.”
“I can tell.”
“And it’s only a plane ride away. There’s plenty of room for you to visit. Any time you want. You can bring Sam and the kids. They’ll love it.”
“I’m going to miss you so much.” Her sister pulled her into her arms. “I know you’re a grown woman but, in a way, you’re also my little girl.” She let her go. “Even when Mom was alive, I helped her look after you. I’d take you to classes and play dates. I helped you with your homework and made sure you brushed your teeth.” Tears glittered in her eyes. “I don’t want to lose you, but I need you to be as happy as that place makes you.”
“But what about the new franchise? I don’t want to disappoint everyone. This is a real opportunity for growth for our family, and it all hinges on me. Is everyone going to be angry that I’m bailing on it?”
Her sister drew in a deep breath. “When Mom and Dad died, you were just heading off for college. We didn’t want you to be alone, so we all committed to keeping things as close to normal as possible. But I think we took it too far. I think, in trying to make sure you got everything Mom and Dad would’ve given you, we stole your ability to find your own way. You’re so much more than our youngest sister. And, as hard as it for me to let you go, I think I’d really love to see you become the magnificent woman you’re meant to be.”
Hot tears spilled down her cheeks, and she’d never felt closer to her sister. “I love you, Bree. Thank you for giving me a home and traditions and so much of your time and attention. It didn’t hold me back. It made me feel loved.”
Her sister pulled back. “Don’t worry about the business. You just go and win that competition.”
Delilah peeled off her chef’s jacket and tossed it on the desk. Grabbing her notebook, she dropped it into her tote.
Her sister watched with wide eyes. “I didn’t mean right now.”
“I’ve got people coming over tomorrow night to taste my dishes.” She hitched the bag onto her shoulder. “I’m ready for that competition and…dammit, Bree, I’m going to win.”
Peering out the window, Will took in Delilah’s world. A melee of cars, buses, vans, and bike messengers, and a steady stream of pedestrians streaked past as the yellow cab turned off Bowery onto Broome Street.
He hadn’t slept in eighteen hours. Couldn’t stomach the idea of food.
What had he been thinking, telling her to walk away? Well, that’s the thing. He hadn’t been thinking. He’d been reacting. A childhood of rejection did that to a guy.
But he was done protecting his heart. He’d found the one woman in the world made for him—and he wasn’t letting her go.
The cab slowed in dense traffic. Fuck. He couldn’t wait to see her. Couldn’t wait to tell her he loved her, that he’d move to New York—or China or Brazil. Wherever she is, that’s where I’ll be.
If only she’d answer her damn phone. No, it’s better this way. What he needed to say had to be done in person.
What if she told him to fuck off? That it was too late? Fear sliced through him, and he sat up straighter in his seat.
If she said no, he’d woo the fuck out of her. He wouldn’t give up.
Because Delilah Lua was a force of nature. Her pull so powerful, she’d caused a seismic shift in the landscape of his heart.
Catching his reflection in the window, he saw a desperate man. A frantic man. Neither of which he’d ever been before. And he smiled because this was what love felt like. Like you couldn’t live without your person. Like you’d lose the very best part of yourself without her.
And it felt so damn good—like he’d punched through a wall. On the other side was fresh air, wide open spaces. Love.
Love. He loved her. And he’d fight like hell for her.
In thick gold lettering, a huge black sign heralding Da Nonna’s took up the entire length of an old stone building. The bright yellow awning, umbrellas, and tablecloths gave the outdoor seating area a festive and welcoming feel.
The cab double-parked out front, and Will handed the driver two twenties. “Thank you.”
Scraping a hand through his hair, he headed inside. His body trembled. Anticipation, need—
Yeah, need. I need her.
I can’t live without her. And it was all right to love her that way. In fact, it was fucking great to love with his whole heart and soul. He didn’t want to be stingy and shut off anymore. He wanted to shout it from the top of her building: I love Delilah Lua.
“Are you waiting for the rest of your party?” the hostess asked.
“No. I’m not eating. I’m looking for Delilah, actually.” Emotion pushed hard on his skin, like it was about to bust free. “I love her. I want to marry her.” He felt giddy with relief. “I want to spend the rest of my life with her.” He stood there, making a fool of himself and not even caring.
The hostess smiled, glancing behind her. The wait staff had stopped mid-motion to stare at him. “That’s awesome. But…she’s not here.”
