Fight for You

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Fight for You Page 8

by Nina Crespo


  “Delanie?”

  Aiden calling her snapped Delanie partially back to the present. She had to blink several times to erase the conjured up image of him standing naked in the bedroom doorway. “Yes?”

  He pointed to the bottle of pills on the nightstand. “Don’t forget to take your medicine.”

  As he walked away, air whooshed out of her. If she didn’t already have a flight out the day after tomorrow, she’d get one, no matter what the cost.

  Delanie spooned up some of the blended rice and let it plop back in the bowl. She’d consumed enough juice, broth, bananas, and rice to pave her way home and back. The universe had a twisted sense of humor—make her sick then torture her with bland food and the last man she’d ever expected to come in contact with again. Was this some sort of karma-enhancing chance for him to repent and a forced forgiveness lesson she was supposed to learn because he’d said he was sorry?

  She didn’t doubt the sincerity of his apology, and it did mean something to her to hear it, but it didn’t negate the truth. One thing hadn’t changed. Succeeding in business and increasing the bottom line came first for Aiden. She couldn’t let his kindness toward her or their physical attraction tempt her into forgetting what motivated him.

  Delanie ate the banana and drank the juice. Once she finished, she set the tray on the nightstand and climbed out of bed. Soon everything would return to normal, and she wouldn’t see Aiden again, just like she wanted. But today, she needed a distraction. Sorting through the boxes she’d brought from the retreat would keep her grounded in reality.

  After a nice hot shower, she dressed in blue yoga pants. As she pulled on an oversized sweatshirt, she grew lightheaded and had to sit on the bed. Delanie leaned over, put her head between her knees, and took deep breaths. It was the change from lying down for hours and then standing up, that was all. Once she walked outside and got some air, she’d feel better. Moving around was good practice for hustling through the airport in two days.

  She slipped on a pair of blue-and-white sneakers, opened the bedroom door, and walked straight into Aiden.

  He’d showered and shaved and dressed in a long-sleeved navy pullover and jeans. “Where are you going?”

  “Downstairs.”

  “For what?”

  Exasperation and impatience pulled down Delanie’s shoulders for a moment before she squared them and looked up at Aiden. “You don’t have to helicopter around me anymore. I’m fine. Go back to your suite.”

  “Dr. Velazquez said you should rest.”

  “You’ve been drugging me with those green pills every chance you get so all I’ve done is rest. You followed instructions. I’m better.”

  “I haven’t been drugging you. I gave you the green pills the way that Dr. Velazquez prescribed them. That’s why you’re feeling better, and also why you should follow her advice and rest.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “It won’t hurt you to take one more day off.”

  “You may be on vacation, but I have a company to run.”

  “According to the doctor, you’ve been running yourself into the ground. When the nurse came by the other day to check on you, she reemphasized the point that you’re worn down.”

  “I have records from Echo Pines in my car. I’m not too worn down to look over them. I have a valuation to complete, and I won’t let you get in the way of that.”

  He blocked her path. “I’m here because I want to take care of you. Is that so hard to believe?”

  The sincerity and irritation reflected in his voice and in his eyes forced Delanie’s gaze to his chest. She was acting bitchy, but it was only because she hated being sick. “Thank you for taking care of me. I really do appreciate it, but I need to work for my own sanity.”

  “I thought you said your assistant had things covered? Don’t you trust him?”

  “He does, and I do.” She’d given Edison a to-do list, and surprisingly, he’d seemed thrilled to take on the extra responsibility. “Sorting through records isn’t taxing. I can handle it.”

  “Were the boxes sitting in storage?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “The last thing you need to fool around with is dusty boxes. Look. Why don’t we make a deal? If I can give you a good reason to stay in bed, you’ll agree to work on the boxes tomorrow.”

  Having sex with him on the couch the other night flashed in Delanie’s mind. Her pulse leapt along with warning bells.

  “Hold on.” He held up his hand. “What you just thought of, that’s not what I meant.”

  How did he know what she was thinking? Didn’t he want to have sex with her again?

  Wait. She gave herself a mental shake. She should be happy he wasn’t thinking about sex. It had been a one-time thing, just like she’d told him.

  But still . . .

  “Aiden, I ju—”

  “Let me show you what I have first.” He winked. “You’ll like it. Don’t move. I’ll be right back.” Aiden jogged down the hall.

  Delanie flopped back on the bed. Yeah, she liked orgasms, too, and look where that had gotten her.

  A moment later, cabinets opened and closed in the kitchen. Packaging rattled.

  What was he bringing her? Dry saltines? He’d mentioned adding them to the menu yesterday to go with the broth. If that’s what he meant, the deal was definitely off.

  He came back with his hands behind his back. “Just so we’re clear. If I give you this, you stay in bed.” A confident “I’ve got this” expression covered his face.

  Why was he so sure of himself? What was he hiding? She sat up. “Deal.”

  Aiden held out a red-and-white package.

  It couldn’t be. Were those the ginger-and-spice cookies that tasted similar to the homemade ones she’d loved growing up? She’d looked for them everywhere. Delanie sprang from the bed. She snatched them from his hand. The package design was different, but it was them. “I’ve looked all over the place for these. Where did you find them?”

  “In Pennsylvania at a small general store that was near a B&B we were thinking of investing in last year. I found them online and had them shipped here overnight.”

  The foil packaging crackled as she tore it open. The sweet scents of spicy ginger, cardamom, cloves, and molasses awakened her senses and her memories.

  She and her father had moved to Kentucky when she was three. He’d taken a groundskeeping position at Clearmount for the older couple who owned the place, Hal and Ellen Gordon. Mrs. Gordon usually made the ginger-and-spice cookies for special occasions. When Delanie was old enough, it had been her job to sit in front of the oven and watch the cookies bake.

  Delanie ate a cookie and emotions as warm and wonderful as the homemade ones she used to watch baking in the oven swelled in her chest. Suddenly, it was as if she were back in Mrs. Gordon’s cozy kitchen surrounded by the sweet smell of cookies.

  “Remember. They stay in just until they’re a nice honey brown.” That’s what Mrs. Gordon would say just before she’d stroke Delanie’s hair and kiss her on the forehead.

  Mrs. Gordon’s small, kind gestures had diminished the sadness over her mother abandoning her as a newborn. It had also erased the odd and out-of-place feeling of not having family, other than her father, like the other children in school.

  It wasn’t that she hated her life or blamed her father for what she didn’t have. He’d been bounced around in foster care as a child and frequently got into trouble until his early twenties. That’s when she’d been born. Her father had said that holding her for the first time as a baby in the hospital had changed him. He’d made a promise to her right then and there that he’d love her and keep her safe . . . and he had. But in those brief moments, in Mrs. Gordon’s kitchen, she’d received that needed glimpse of what she’d missed out on—a mother’s love.

  The Gordons sold Clearmount to her father when she was ten, and they moved to Pennsylvania to retire. Knowing how much she missed Mrs. Gordon, her father had found a passable store-bought replacement for the co
okies. They’d gotten her through her childhood angst and her first year of college. And then neither she nor her father could find them anymore.

  Years ago, she’d shared her ginger-and-spice-cookie crutch with Aiden. She swallowed. “You remembered?”

  “That you love those cookies?” His expression softened. “Of course I did. I would have given them to you yesterday, but the delivery was delayed because of the freak snowstorm.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  The genuine caring and happiness in his gaze momentarily stunned her into silence. “All right,” she said. “I’ll stay in bed one more day.”

  “Good.” He reached for the package.

  She turned away. “What are you doing?”

  “Those are for dessert, after we have lunch.”

  “I’d rather eat these instead. I’m tired of broth.”

  “You can’t just eat cookies.”

  “I can if I want to.”

  “You know you shouldn’t.” Aiden gave her an exasperated look. “Too much sugar can mess up your immune system. What about some chicken noodle soup and crackers in a few hours?”

  She munched another cookie and he frowned at her. When had he turned into such a health cop? But he was probably right. “Can we skip the crackers?”

  “How about toast?”

  “Okay. That sounds like a reasonable trade.”

  “I’ll make it happen.” Aiden motioned for her to hand over the bag. “From that look on your face, I don’t think I can trust you with those.”

  “I’m not a two-year-old. I have self-control.” She took three more cookies from the bag then reluctantly handed it to him. “I want them back after lunch.”

  Aiden wiggled his finger in mock admonishment. “Only if you stay in bed and finish all of your soup later.” As he walked out, he ate a cookie.

  “Hey, Mr. Wait Until After Lunch, you better not eat them all.”

  Aiden’s chuckle floated in from down the hall.

  Delanie dropped on the bed. Aiden had remembered what she told him about the cookies? Wow. That was so unexpected. He’d even sprung them on her like her father used to do. Sometimes her dad would go even further by tucking a small sandwich bag with a few of them in her school backpack or underneath her pillow. When she’d gotten older, he’d put them in the glove compartment of her car. He’d even managed to put some in her dorm room at college without her noticing. It was one of the many ways her father, who was a man of few words, made sure she knew how much he loved her.

  Tears pricked in her eyes. What would her dad think of Aiden stepping in now as her fairy cookie godmother? Would he call her foolish for letting him get close to her again?

  Delanie blinked back the tears and breathed. No, she wasn’t as naïve as she had been back then. She had sense enough to thoroughly enjoy the cookies but keep her boundaries. The only thing Aiden would get from her was another day of rest.

  In the meantime, she could still get some work done.

  Delanie grabbed her laptop from beside the bed and sat on the comforter. She swept aside the bittersweet memories of ginger-and-spice cookies and her father and focused on checking her e-mails: hospitality industry newsletters, a reminder about the next meeting for a women’s business networking group she belonged to, spam.

  She scrolled down to an e-mail forwarded from the contact form on her website. A bed-and-breakfast in Phoenix had been referred to her by a former client. They were interested in exploring the feasibility of renting out space at their property for catered events.

  Delanie forwarded the e-mail to Edison along with a note for him to follow up by sending them a questionnaire. She’d also conduct a site visit to get to know them and their property. Advising small lodging operations on how to run their businesses was an intimate experience. Trust was a key requirement for her to effectively work with them and develop a sound business strategy. The owners had to feel comfortable enough to heed her advice on everything from labor to marketing to the feasibility of their financial goals and her suggested strategies to achieve them. Otherwise, they’d struggle to get things done.

  Delanie typed up an e-mail to the client and cc’d Edison. Just as she was about to hit send she paused. She couldn’t forget to check for typos. As she squinted at her computer screen, trying to make sense of everything she’d just written, her eyelids grew heavy. She’d only been up a few hours and she already needed a nap. She hadn’t taken the pills that made her sleepy. Were all these days off making her lazy? Oh well . . . a little more rest wouldn’t hurt.

  thirteen

  DELANIE AWOKE, STILL sprawled on the bed near her laptop, to Aiden walking in with lunch on a room service tray. She sat up, blinking away the fog of a heavy sleep. “What time is it?”

  “A little after noon.”

  What? She’d slept for two hours?

  He placed the tray on the nightstand then cracked open the bottled water that was on the tray. “Do you feel like watching TV?”

  “Sure.” She propped a pillow against the headboard and sat back against it with her legs crossed under her.

  He opened the cabinet on the wall across from her with the flat-screen television. “Which shows do you watch?”

  Shows? Delanie drew a blank. She picked up one of the toast triangles that was on a plate next to the soup and nibbled on it. “Well, I used to watch that crime drama about the navy investigators. Maybe there’s a channel with reruns?”

  “I know the one you’re talking about. Hold on.” Aiden went out and came back in with a USB stick and inserted it into the side of the TV. “I subscribe to most of the channels.” He brought up an app on his cell and used it instead of the remote to select the options. “You want to watch the most recent episode, or are you a show or two behind?”

  “Umm . . . no. More like a couple of seasons.” His look of disbelief brought heat to her face. “I’ve been busy.”

  “But don’t you take a weekend off every now and then to binge-watch and catch up? When’s the last time you watched a movie?”

  “A year ago, maybe?”

  He shook his head in disbelief. “Wow. It’s time for you to catch up on life. Here.” Aiden handed her his phone. “Why don’t you look around and find something to watch?”

  As she hit the arrow icons, bubbles on the screen highlighted different channels, as well as some shows she recognized and many she didn’t. The latest Star Wars movie Edison had raved about was on the list of available films and . . . Wonder Woman! She sat straighter on the bed.

  “Enjoy.” Aiden went to leave.

  Her excitement dimmed. Watching TV alone in bed—was there anything more sad and pathetic? “Don’t you need your phone?” she asked Aiden. “What if it rings or you get a text?”

  “I can answer it from my laptop.”

  “But aren’t you going to eat lunch? You keep insisting I need a break. What about you? Why don’t you sit and watch with me?”

  He paused and glanced from her to the TV and back again. “You don’t mind?”

  “No. Why are you still standing there? Get your food. I have a lot of catching up to do.”

  Aiden grinned. “Be back in a second.”

  On the phone screen, in the recently watched section, there was a series selection featuring a guy in Viking garb. So Aiden was watching something action and adventure oriented—that wasn’t a surprise. In the past, whenever Aiden called her when they were apart, she could hear his TV in the background with some film that had explosions, weapons firing, or sword fights going on.

  Even though sword fights weren’t her kind of thing, he was letting her watch TV using his phone . . . the least she could do was let him watch the next episode of his show while they ate lunch together. She clicked the selection.

  Aiden came back in carrying a burger and fries on a plate along with a bottle of soda. He scooted the chair closer to the nightstand and set his drink on top of the table. “What are we watching?”
r />   “Something about Vikings.”

  Aiden sat in the chair. “Good choice, but you really should watch it from the beginning to understand the premise. I’m on the last episode of season one.”

  It did look kind of interesting, and the lead actor was hot. “Are you sure you don’t mind watching it over again?”

  “Not at all. I pick up on stuff I missed the first time when I re-watch past episodes in a series.”

  She clicked back to episode one, then settled the food tray on her lap.

  As the opening credits scrolled down the screen, a song with a heavy drumbeat played. A wide shot depicted a nighttime scene and a fire in a clearing at the edge of the woods. Then it narrowed in on a dark-haired actor shadow-fighting with his sword. His bare, muscular torso gleamed in the firelight.

  “Wow.” The whispered word slipped past her lips in the midst of spooning up some of the chicken noodle soup.

  Aiden grunted. “Something tells me you’re not drooling over your lunch.”

  “What? It’s the whole swinging around the sword thing. He’s really good at it. That’s all I meant.”

  “If that’s the case, try to control yourself during the battle scenes.”

  She caught the tail end of his sardonic look. Was he actually jealous of her checking out an actor on-screen? That was interesting.

  He set his plate on the nightstand and opened his soda.

  The scent of bacon cheeseburger and fries made her mouth water. That was the first time since she’d been sick that she’d actually craved something.

  Aiden caught her eyeing his plate. “Want some?”

  “Maybe a bite of your hamburger and just a couple of fries?”

  He nudged the plate closer to her. “Go ahead.”

  She grabbed the burger and took a big bite. The perfect, savory blend of burger, cheese, and bacon made her groan in satisfaction. Before she swallowed, Delanie stuffed a fry in her mouth. Nirvana. She was in the midst of taking a second bite from Aiden’s burger when he cleared his throat.

 

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