by Falon Gold
I had both, and hoped she could use one of them because I was showing up without calling—didn’t have her number—but I’d have gifts. It worked on Bryony well enough.
Stopping by Silo’s Diner where Duchess was employed for years, I bought coffee and burgers for me, Delilah, and Olivia… if her mother didn’t turn me away. About to find out the hard way, I parked in the same drive as last night to keep the rumors down, jogging across the street.
*********
~Delilah~
The doorbell’s chime resonated throughout the house. Expecting angry visitors at any time since I had rebelled against the status quo, I sat up on one side of the oak, four post bed embellished with sheer cream curtains. Any number of people could be at my door, mad about me not answering the phone. Someone was going to come by to rectify my mutiny—a fruitless endeavor on their end—disturbing my hard won peace with a face to face eventually.
They weren’t going to like how I received them, and it’d be too much to wish it was Bradley at the door. The only one I wanted to see. Taking a deep breath, I ditched the reality TV show playing low for a sleeping Olivia’s benefit and the bed we were sharing. Knotting the sash of my white, monogrammed terry-cloth robe over a black silk chemise, I slipped my feet into sheep-skin slippers, checking the time on the clock on the nightstand. Eight thirty.
This time of night was becoming notorious for showdowns. Grabbing up my cell with 911 on speed dial, I entered the long hall. All the lights were on, on their lowest setting as a paranoid precaution. Snatching the door open to raise some hell without asking who it was might not have been the sanest thing to do, but I had gotten riled up on my journey downstairs. Had a right to lead my life the way I saw fit and to privacy despite what anybody else thought.
To find Bradley with a greasy paper sack in one hand, tray with two coffees in the other blew my bad mood and me away. Wishes did come true.
“H-hey!” I stammered at too high a pitch, too staggered by him showing up to think of anything else welcoming to say. Didn’t think I’d see him anymore unless Rafe was imitating an attack mutt again.
Bradley’s stoic expression never faltered after getting a taste of my beast mode, but I felt the uneasiness undulating off him in waves. “Is it too late for burgers and coffee? Shit, I shouldn’t have come.” The hell he shouldn’t have.
“What? No! It’s fine. I thought you were somebody else.” I couldn’t remember Rafe ever thinking to bring dinner home and I couldn’t have Bradley, but sure as hell wanted to be around him simply because he was kind and had been on my mind. He wouldn’t get off it no matter what I did. I practically floated to the side, creating space for him to walk through. “Come in. I’m glad to see you.”
“You are?” His voice wobbled almost unnoticeably on the last syllable, forehead scrunching up for just a second. If I didn’t know better, I’d think his nerves were strung tighter than a bow and arrow. He was doing his best to not let it show and not succeeding.
“Yes, I’m glad!” may have come out more enthusiastic than I’d have like. Too late now. “I’ll give you my number so you can call ahead next time.”
At risk of hypothermia if he didn’t come inside soon, I grabbed the sleeve of his coat, tugging him in the right direction; in. “Thanks for thinking of us. Olivia’s asleep. Go down the hall and take the first right.”
“Bossy,” he mumbled.
Giggling at his grumpiness while shadowing him, I shot back, “Please go to the kitchen. Is that better?”
“Eh.” He chuckled. “I’ll let you know.”
“Please do.” When was the last time I enjoyed bantering with a man or wanted to be in the company of one so much?
Not this century, I was positive. Why did it have to be Duchess’ ex? A small dose of guilt imposed on the moment, but I pushed that way. Nothing was going to happen between us because he didn’t want it to. I didn’t weigh enough to force him to take me, or I probably would, so him being here was okay.
My body kept trying to justify inviting Bradley in my home when my brain knew I had bad intentions toward him. The man was a walking wet dream and I took comfort in having done nothing worth hiding from Duchess. Yet. Since it couldn’t be considered a violation of the girl code if no one saw me staring at his sculpted ass and back comparable to the broadside of a barn, I checked him out thoroughly. Again.
“Stop looking at my ass, Delilah.” Amusement overloaded his arrogant tone in the hallway, so sure he had me dead to rights. He did.
He took a right as instructed into the kitchen. Busted, I laughed silently behind his back, covering my mouth to make sure no incriminating laughter got out. When was the last time I laughed like this? Nope, not this century neither.
“You can’t prove I’m looking at your ass, Bradley. Do you know I haven’t seen you without your coat on yet? Put that stuff on the island… please.”
As stealthy as a predator, his boots barely generated any noise on the white tile marbled through with streaks of black and tan as he peeked back at me with a knowing smile in his eyes. “Took you a long time to neither deny nor confirm looking at my ass, which means you were, but I’ll let you stick to your story. So, let me get this straight…” He left his sentence hanging, depositing the food under the pots and pans hung from hooks over the island top matching the floor.
Establishing a searing connection of eyes, he reached for the zipper of his coat. Quietly anticipating the revealing of his physique, I stopped beside him, blindingly taking the lid off one carryout cup. He took his coat off. Every bodily function I had ceased as protrusions of hard bulges contracted and released on his frame. Good God. The dips in between his muscles were deep enough to need geographical mapping. Preferably with my tongue.
Maybe not. My mouth was like sandpaper, had gone desert-dry at some point. Much needed moisture collected in the corners of my lips because he relieved himself of his damn coat. I’d turn to damp dust if he took his pants off.
“Now,” he started again, eyes laughing quietly at my ogling, “you weren’t looking at my ass, but you want to see my top, right? Does it live up to your expectations?” He was so on to me.
Get it together, Delilah. He doesn’t like you like that. Or, did he?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Bradley.” Denial and letting him make the crucial first move seemed the best course to take. Outright rejection or veiled hints of it were not my thing as much as conflict didn’t used to be.
“Suuuuure you don’t know what I’m talking about,” he taunted. Yep, on to me alright.
“You do know most people take their coats off when they come inside anyway, right?” I deflected. “I’ll have seen your top anyway, so I commented on it like people do the weather.”
Keep telling yourself that’s all it was.
Smirking, he ambled over to the breakfast nook in the far left corner, prime location to catch a sunrise. He dumped his coat on the custom tan and black seat cushions then walked, no, stalked back to me silently as if keeping the distractions to a minimum so I could get a good look at his goods without interruption. And gawk I did.
Lord have mercy on the fitted, long-sleeve black shirt stretched to an inch of its life around his arms and chest. Stonewashed jeans were like a jealous lover cupping his ass, thighs, and his… What was that angled across his pelvis, slanting up past his left hip? That was so not just a penis. The base of it pushed against the long length of his zipper. The tip was trying to liberate itself from his waistband. Was he hard?
If he wasn’t, there was more room for his ahem, length to grow and no woman in her right mind would take on that. I wasn’t in my right anything. My mouth and other lady parts were suddenly too wet and willing to take him on anywhere. I forced my concentration down to the coffee, fixating really hard on it instead of him.
Stupid eyes were determined to peep at him anyway out of their peripherals. Nothing good would come from head on eye contact with any part of him right now. Nothing good was
coming from stealing sidelong glances. A strange pulsating started in the walls of my womanhood. Heart fluttered, completely out of rhythm. Heat swamped my body. Whoo, boy.
Just keep stirring your coffee, and everything will cool off… I meant be fine.
“Delilah,” he uttered in a low rasp that stole what was left of my right mind.
Chapter Eight
~Delilah~
I gazed up, got ensnared in his stare, and forgot about the coffee. “Huh?”
His smirk was gone, the pinched look of worry replacing it. He looked me over from head to toe. “Are you alright with Rafe being gone?”
“Who?”
Bradley’s lips—God, those lips—cocked up on one side arrogantly. “Your husband.”
“Who?” Damn whoever my husband was. Pretty sure he only counted as my baby daddy now. Even that didn’t add up to much with the sight before me. And what a delicious vision it was. Enough to make me lick my lips wantonly.
Even his concerned expression wasn’t enough to make my mind get a good grip on what he was saying. “Duchess is worried about you.”
Duchess? I blinked. Reality came crashing in. Why, oh, why did he have to say that name? Reminding me of the friendship I was endangering by simply having the hots for Bradley. No, there was a scorching five-alarm blaze burning inside me, but that steamy moment I was experiencing, enjoying was ruined.
Bradley wasn’t here because he couldn’t stop thinking of me like I couldn’t of him. Duchess sent him, and nothing was a bigger turn off than a woman who couldn’t catch a clue that he was only being nice. Not making a play. Damn, why couldn’t he be making a play?
I collected what I could find of my composure and peered off to the other side of the room, locking firmly onto the eloquently set eight-chair dining table. “Um, I’ll call her tomorrow.”
“Delilah!” he growled. My whole body jerked in his direction on reflex. He was frowning. Crossing his arms over his pecs caused them to ripple, turning my insides to mush. The man was a brick house that I’d climb if I was even vaguely nimble and he wanted me to. “Delilah, you keep tuning me out. Did I say something wrong?”
Yes. “No. Sorry. I just um…” The hand with the spoon waved about to conjure up out of thin air a satisfying response that would brook no more questions on his behalf or Duchess’. “I just needed time to myself today.” All twenty four hours and then some.
He nodded. “She said you’d need space, but I wanted to check in and make sure you and Olivia were okay. Divorcing is just like someone dying; it hurts and it discombobulates.” His voice was back to its average whiskey and rocks lilt, inspiring the panties I was not wearing to hit the floor.
Then, his words sunk into my brain occupied with him. “Wait. What all did she say about me?” Oh my God, she knew about us.
Hold up. There is no ‘us’. God in heaven, I’m losing my shit like Rafe.
Bradley propped a hip against the island. “I spent the evening with Aiden today at Duchess’. She stopped me before I left, to ask me about you. She saw me over here last night, wanted to know if you were okay because you’re not answering anyone’s calls.”
I’d have answered yours. Wisely, I kept that to myself and let him finish speaking.
“She and your mutual friends are worried about you and she knows I’m not carrying back any bones other than you’re okay or you’re not. Whatever we say here, stays here. If you need to talk to someone, well, I’m here as long as you need me. I got nowhere else to be and I don’t want you isolating yourself after the big change you made in your life last night. Trust me, isolation isn’t a good idea after something major happens. We need grounding when things are up in the air.”
Did I need to talk to someone? Hell yeah. Did I want to spill my guts to him? Damn straight. Would it probably boost my desire for him if we spent time together, bonding as bosom buddies? Most definitely. I better make the most of it then because at some point, I was going to fuck this up. My mouth always did.
“You say you’ll listen if I want to talk, right?” That time, I was able to look at him without eye-raping his body.
“Yes,” his reply had a lot of strength behind it oddly.
“What if I want to talk about you?”
If I couldn’t have him, dammit, I’d know him inside and out. We’d be friends if it killed me. Unless, Duchess killed me first. I knew then I had made my choice; I’d take this man any way I could get him. That didn’t sit lightly with me, but whatever part of me was drawn to him didn’t care. Not enough to stop me from making a bad decision. But, Bradley was my saving grace, would keep me in check. I hoped.
One thick, platinum eyebrow shot up. How he made that into the hottest thing ever, I’d never know. His eyes dipped to the floor, he was absolutely mulling over my chosen topic of chitchat. Eventually, his stare found mine again.
“How does talking about me help you?”
“Honestly, I’ve never wanted to know so much about anyone in my life, but it’s not to get the dirty details to start rumors about you, it’s so I can emulate you. What we say here, stays here and that’s on mine and my daughter’s life. I cross my heart and hope to God neither I or Olivia die. I need that little girl more than my next breath. She is what grounds me.”
His other eyebrow flew up. “You want to be like me?”
“Hell yeah!” I squeaked. “You went through hell, survived, and reinvented yourself. I’m going to go through hell and want to survive it too, and I’m going to need tools for reinvention because I only know how to live one way; mean to others. It comes natural. Most importantly, I want to be better than who I was yesterday, every day. But, I don’t know how and I want to know about you because you do know how to be better… and you’re fascinating.”
Should’ve left that last part off, stupid mouth.
He stood speechless for several seconds that turned into a minute then two. It got awkward.
You’ve went too damn far this time, Delilah.
“You don’t have to tell me everything or anything at all, Bradley.” I was backpedaling fast. “I’m just in awe of you. I know your beginning and ending but not your middle and I thought you could, um… ” I could just shut up now, which I didn’t, determined to fix the awkwardness. Inhaling, I contemplated my next words while setting my coffee down. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
A small smile crept across his lips. “You didn’t.”
I had certainly made him something. Distrustful of my motives? Maybe. Wanting to run from the lunatic’s kitchen? Likely. But, he seemed to be at ease now. Relief flowed in as a rough breath went out my nose. No air came back, suffocating because he smiled.
It didn’t matter that he didn’t want me, I wanted him, but I had to get over it, so keeping to safe topics… which was not him. That put me in a bind since all I wanted to talk about was him. I was down to keeping much distance and barriers between us when he was near.
Practicing, I raised the cup up high to block my view of his body, studying the brew inside and sipping from it. “I thought maybe I’d asked too much of you, too soon.”
“No, you just surprised me, you keep doing that.”
Oh hell, was that a compliment or complaint?
My next emotion depended on which. “Hopefully, it’s all good surprises.”
Smoldering heat flashed through his greys with more burn than I could stand in our present relationship as budding friends without benefits.
“Being around you has not been what I expected it’d be like, Delilah. So, what do you want to know specifically?”
Somehow, I knew asking him to elaborate on what he thought versus what he found it to actually be like in my company wasn’t going to make it easier to be around him. I deliberated on my reputation that usually preceded me and apparently, I had stomped that bitch into ground… for now.
“What I specifically want to know is…” Everything. “…how did you get through changing from who you were to who you are with
out backsliding into old ways along the way? There’s every chance I’d do that until I got it right.”
He shrugged. “One day at a time, one tour of duty at a time, forgiving myself, counting up the cost of my actions before I acted, accepting that shit happens and my old ways weren’t how to cope when it did. They always made things worse and could’ve cost me my life in the military. You can’t afford to piss off the people who are supposed to have your back and carry guns, can you?”
I snorted unladylike. “No, and I’m definitely not going to war on foreign soil or domestic to change my ways. I wouldn’t make it back home to change my panties, which would be unfit to wear if I did survive.”
His whole body shook with the power of his erupting laughter. “You’re going to war alright, with the one in the mirror and if we’re going to talk about my personal battles, I rather do it somewhere comfortable where we can eat and sit before my food and coffee get cold.”
“Front room okay?” One side of the living area for me, one side for him. If that wasn’t enough space to keep me in line and off his body, nothing was.
“Fine with me,” he supplied breezily.
I moved to the cupboards behind us, removing paper plates and feeling watched though I heard him moving around behind me, unwrapping the food and taking the lid off his cup. When I swiveled around, it was to find his hands moving on autopilot dumping sugar into his coffee and his tunnel vision on me. His gaze was secretive like he knew something I didn’t, sizzling as if it was trying to burn his secret into my retinas. Sharing information didn’t work that way. Nobody told him, I reckoned.
Don’t look at me like that, Bradley. It would give me ideas and I’d run with them right up his front.
“What?” I asked just to kill the silence that was louder and heavier than when we talked. Returning to his side, I distributed the plates on the counter.
