“The thing is, I think I knew the first moment I saw you that I’d fall in love with you, if I let you get too close. So I pushed you away. I knocked over Jenga boards and made shitty excuses and told myself I could never have you, that it would never work out. Because things in my life never really seem to work out. Why should love be any different?”
His hold tightens.
“I was a bitch to you. Tried every trick in the book to keep you away. And even still… you saw straight through me. You’ve always seen straight through my bullshit, to what’s really going on. Even before you really knew anything about me, you could tell exactly what I was thinking without me ever opening my mouth. One look in my eyes was enough.”
I take a deep breath and drop all the guards I keep up around myself, filling my stare with everything I’ve ever felt for him. All the faith and the trust and the sheer, inescapable love. I pour it all into a look.
I love you, my eyes tell him. Wholeheartedly.
“Can you read what they’re telling you now, Luca?”
I see victory flare in his gaze, hot and hopeful, as his face drops down to mine.
“You love me,” he growls against my lips.
“I love you.”
“No more running?”
“No more running.”
Crushing his mouth to mine, he picks me up and spins me around in a circle in the middle of the catwalk. I don’t think about the fact that we’re standing over potentially lethal sea creatures, or that I’ve basically ruined Phoebe’s wedding reception, or that there’s still going to be fallout from the loan sharks after Duncan. I just let the man I love hold me close and kiss me until there are stars in my eyes.
When he finally sets me back down, I’m breathing hard and grinning like an idiot. The grin wavers a bit as my weight lands on my twisted ankle.
“What? What is it?” He’s instantly alarmed.
“Nothing,” I murmur.
“You’re hurt.”
“It’s nothing!”
He ignores me, bending to examine my ankle. “Christ, Delilah! Why didn’t you say something? You need a doctor.” His fingers move over the bone lightly, but I still wince at his touch. “Not broken, but definitely sprained.”
“See! No break. I’m fine.”
He glares up at me. “Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?”
“Um, hello? I was a little busy making a sweeping declaration of love. Or did you miss that?”
He rises to his feet, smiling as he wraps an arm around my waist to support my weight. “No babe. Definitely didn’t miss it.”
“Oh, good, because I’m not very good at long speeches and that was one of my better ones. I’m not sure I could repeat it with the same amount of emotional oomph, you know what I’m saying?”
He shakes his head. “Not remotely.”
“If I didn’t love you, I’d probably hate you.”
“Love you too, babe. That said, you’re still going to the doctor.”
“No! I’ll put some ice on it. Good as new.”
“Sure, we’ll ice it. After we go to the doctor.”
I sigh. “Isn’t there some kind of memorandum about you not being able to boss me around anymore, since we’re madly in love and everything?”
“No.”
“Well, that just sucks.”
His lips twitch as he bends and sweeps me up into his arms without further ado, like a bonafide damsel in distress. Which I’m not. Anymore.
Damsel in recent distress?
Damsel formerly in distress, now over the moon with bliss?
“Hey! I can walk.” I grimace. “Sort of. Actually it’s more of a hobble but I was managing quite well before you stormed in—”
“Babe?” I literally feel his chuckle as it rumbles out, I’m cradled so close against his chest.
“Yeah?”
“Calling a ceasefire.”
I smile as he carries me up a set of stairs. “Why do I have a feeling our happily ever after is going to involve a lot of ceasefires?”
Luca carries me back into the reception room, which has emptied of all guests except the bridal party. Setting me down in a chair, he lifts my injured ankle onto a low table and passes me a bag of ice with stern orders to keep it elevated. His lips brush mine in a soft, sweet kiss before he crosses the deck to where the remaining Knox Investigations guys are standing with Parker and Chase. They’re engaged in a serious discussion about Theo, who’s currently en-route to the hospital for treatment of his stab wound.
On our way upstairs, Luca assured me it wasn’t a fatal strike, that he’ll make a full recovery. Still, I can’t help feeling responsible for his injury. If not for me, he wouldn’t have been in harm’s way in the first place.
Luca’s barely left my side when my friends flock to me like seagulls to a French fry, all squawking and jabbering at once.
“Oh my god, Lila!” Chrissy.
“I called it! You and Luca are so together!” Phoebe.
“Are you okay, honey?” Gemma.
“Did they catch those assholes?” Zoe.
“Do you need a Xanax? I think there’s one in my purse.” Shelby.
I wave their concerns away, adjusting the bag of ice on my ankle. “I’m fine. Seriously.” My eyes cut to Phoebe’s. “I’m so sorry I ruined your wedding, Phee.”
“Are you kidding?” She snorts. “It wouldn’t be a party with this group if someone wasn’t kidnapped or held at gunpoint or going into premature labor.” She glances pointedly at Gemma’s stomach. “But, seriously, don’t do that. I want to go on my honeymoon, so that bun has to remain in the oven for at least another month, until Auntie Phoebe is back to spoil it rotten.”
“I’ll do my best.” Gemma grins.
“Guys, I’m starting to feel left out,” Shelby murmurs, plucking a bottle of champagne off a nearby table and taking a swing straight out the top. “I’m now the only one of our friends who hasn’t been attacked by bad guys. I might have to start hanging with a shadier crowd, just to up my odds of something dangerous happening to me.”
“Hang in there,” I say dryly. “Your time will come.”
“So…” Phoebe’s eyes dart over to Luca. “You two?”
I give a tiny nod.
They all start squealing again, thrilled by this development.
“I knew it!” Phoebe.
“So happy for you.” Gemma.
“How long has this been going on?” Chrissy.
“Have you guys done it yet?” Shelby.
“Don’t screw it up.” Zoe.
I look at the petite blonde, the closest thing Luca’s ever had to a sister, and strip away my guards until she can see the sincerity burning in my gaze.
“I won’t.” I suck in a breath. “I love him.”
The group erupts in happy sequels again, and a slow smile dawns on Zoe’s face. Holding my eyes, she nods, and I know she’s given me her blessing.
I look around at my best friends, feeling love pouring in on me from all sides. They may not share my DNA but, as far as I’m concerned, they’re the best family a girl could ever wish for.
Chapter Sixteen
If I have to parallel park, please don’t invite me.
Delilah Sinclair, acknowledging her strengths and weaknesses.
One week later…
“So, you’re really gonna be our nanny?”
I grin at Harry across our picnic blanket. “Yep.”
“But you’re not gonna live wif us?” Potter asks.
“No.” I run my fingers through Fenway’s fur, smiling absently. “But I’ll be right in the North End. That’s not far at all.”
We’re at the park around the corner from their place, having lunch and enjoying the perfect summer weather.
“I fink you should just keep your apartment.” Potter sounds displeased. “The new lady who moved in there is old.”
“How old?” My brows lift.
“Like forty.”
I shake my head
. “Uh huh. Talk to me in twenty years, kid.”
“Will you bring Luca next time?” Harry asks shyly.
“Harry finks Luca is the coolest!”
I laugh. “I think so too.” Most days. “He’s busy today, but I’ll try to drag him with me next time. He’d love to see you guys again.”
“Yeah.” Potter nods. “We’re pretty awesome.”
“I noticed.”
Done with their PB&J sandwiches, the twins push to their feet. Fenway leaps up as well, tail wagging, all too eager for another round of fetch. The tennis ball is already in his mouth. I swear, he’s doubled in size in the last week alone.
“Come ooooon,” Potter says, tugging me up. “Let’s go, slowpoke!”
“I’m coming, I’m coming.” I stand and brush the grass off my butt.
“Lila.”
The sound of a throat clearing makes me glance up.
I blink in surprise when I see Duncan standing there, looking much more himself than the last time I laid eyes on him. The black eye has mostly faded, he’s showered and shaved, and his clothes no longer look wrinklier than an octogenarian’s ass.
“Kiddos,” I say slowly. “Go throw the ball with Fenway by the tree, where I can see you. I’ll be there in just a minute, okay?”
The twins are happy to oblige, grabbing Fenway’s leash and walking over to the clearing. I watch them for a moment before turning to look at my brother. He’s staring at the puppy.
“Fenway?”
I shrug. “He needed a name.”
“I’m glad you kept him.” His eyes move to mine. “You’ll make a much better owner than I would’ve.”
“Duncan. What are you doing here?”
“I needed to see you.” He swallows. “To make things right.”
“Did you get my messages? There are some bad people looking for you. They came after me, nearly kidnapped me from Phoebe’s wedding!”
“I know. I’m sorry.” Duncan’s face is the picture of remorse. “I didn’t think, in a million years, they’d actually target you.”
I dart a glance around, on high alert — just like I’ve been for the past week. My phone is rarely out of my hand, always ready to call for help if necessary.
“Duncan, you need to be careful. The two who attacked me are in custody now, but there could be more of them.”
“There won’t be more.”
My brows lift. “What?”
“I took care of it. Paid off my debt.”
“You took care of a hundred-thousand-dollar loan.”
He nods, looking speculative. “Almost two hundred thousand, actually, when all was said and done. Interest is a real killer.”
“Where did you get that kind of money?” I feel my face pale. “Oh my god, you robbed a bank, didn’t you?!”
He snorts. “No, I didn’t do anything illegal.”
“Explain.”
“ThinFlection,” he tells me, voice hushed with excitement. “My patent. I sold it to a huge beauty supply company. They think it’s going to be huge. Bigger than peel-off face masks!”
“As in, the mirrors that make you look skinny even if you’re not?” I ask doubtfully.
“Yes! I told you, if I could just find the right market…”
“Are you serious?”
“As a ten-million-dollar heart attack.” He grins and tosses his hands up. “I’m rich, sis!”
I blink at him in total silence.
“That’s what I’ve been doing these past few weeks,” he explains. “Finalizing the sale, clearing my debt, buying a new place out in LA. It’s sweet! You have to come visit when I’m all settled in.”
“Wow. I’m really happy for you,” I say, but it sounds hollow.
His grin fades a bit. “I don’t blame you for being pissed at me. Franky, I deserve it after what I put you through—”
“True,” I can’t help but agree.
He shoots me a look. “But, if you’ll give me a chance, I want to make things right.”
“How do you mean?”
“I already paid back Mom and Dad. I’d like to do the same for you.” He pauses. “Plus interest. In the form of a million dollars.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“Nope.” He grins. “You can keep your apartment. You can have your old life back, Lila, or hell, buy a better one. Everything can go back to how it was before I messed things up for you.”
Wow.
Of all the ways I expected this conversation to go, this one has caught me totally by surprise. I think about his offer for a minute, mentally tallying all the things I could buy with a million dollars.
Lifetime supply of MAC cosmetics!
A new Mini Cooper convertible!
All the designer bags and shoes I sold on eBay!
My pretty Crate & Barrel couch!
A bright pink moped, with a sidecar for Fenway!
The inventory flashes though my mind like a slot machine spinning numbers. The prospect is so tempting — not having to worry about money, restoring my life to its former chic glory. And yet, as thrilling as the prospect of unlimited funds is, in theory… the more I think about it, the more I realize I don’t want to recreate that life I used to live. I don’t want everything to go back to the way it was, even if it means living below my means.
Six months ago, I was a lonely party girl surrounded by pretty things, with a closet full of designer clothes and a heart full of crippling fear of abandonment. I couldn’t commit to anything more serious than an ice cream flavor, consumed by worries that loving anything meant dooming myself to a life of loss and misery.
I don’t miss that girl one bit.
Now, I have a job I adore, an adorable puppy who is growing so rapidly it makes my head spin, and an amazing man I’d sell my soul for, if he asked. Which he won’t, because he loves me. Unconditionally. Flaws and all.
Would I trade that in, for a million dollars?
“No,” I murmur.
My brother’s brow furrows. “What?”
“I appreciate the offer, Duncan. I really do. I’ll accept the money I loaned to our parents… but not a cent more.”
“But… why?”
I shrug and smile at him. “I don’t need it. I’ve already got everything I could ever want.”
The crowd pulses like a living organism, giving off so much heat and sound it makes the hair rise straight up on the back of my neck. The ring is ready and waiting, spotlights trained on the center. Octagon girls — the MMA equivalent of cheerleaders — strut back and forth in spandex bikinis, revving the crowd to an even higher decibel. The front row of spectators is full of sports photographers, journalists, and UFC scouts.
Shaking my head at the madness, I slip back inside the back room where Luca is waiting. I move in silence, not wanting to disturb his pre-fight ritual. Zoe told me he likes to be alone before a bout, to keep his head totally clear.
He’s sitting on a bench, head bowed, eyes closed, elbows resting on his knees. I don’t make a sound, but he senses my presence. He reaches out blindly and grabs my wrist, tugging me around to stand in front of him. His forehead presses against my stomach and I run my fingers through his short crop of hair.
“I didn’t mean to disturb you,” I whisper, feeling like I’ve infringed on a sacred space.
“You’re not.” He breathes me in with deep inhales. “Ever.”
“I know you like to be alone.”
“That was before.” His eyes lift to mine. “Things are different now.”
My brows go up. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. Not saying I want just anyone back here with me, screwing up my energy, messing with my head.” He shrugs. “You, I don’t mind. You don’t steal air from the room, Delilah. You breathe life into it.”
My heart flips.
“It’s crazy out there, you know.”
“Always is.”
My eyes start stinging. “Is it lame if I admit I’m worried about you.”
“Very.” He p
ushes to his feet, so he’s towering over me. His hands, wrapped with fighting tape, brush a rogue tear from my cheek. “Don’t worry, Delilah. Not going anywhere.”
“Stuck with you, huh?”
He nods.
“Never should’ve let you pick me up from jail,” I tease.
“Oh, bailing you out wasn’t the night I decided to pursue you,” he says casually.
“What? What do you mean?”
He shrugs. “After the bachelorette party, when I carried you home and tucked you into bed, wasted on tequila and half asleep in my arms… you did something that made me realize I wasn’t gonna spend another day without you in my life.”
My heart is pounding. “And that was…?”
“Rapped every lyric to Juicy by Biggie Smalls when it came on the radio.”
I smack his arm. “I did not!”
“Oh, you did. I have videos.”
“Luca Buchanan!”
He’s grinning. “I’m kidding.”
I blow out a relieved breath. (Prematurely, it turns out.)
“Oh, not about the videos. I’m keeping those until I die.” He laughs. “Just about what you did that made me want you as mine.”
I smack him again. “Tell me.”
His eyes soften. “We pulled up outside your place… you looked over at me with those big, beautiful brown eyes of yours already half-closed… and, very simply, in a slurred voice, you murmured… ‘If I ever decide to let someone break my heart, I want it to be you, Luca Buchanan.’” He bumps his nose against mine. “One sentence. I was a total goner.”
A tear escapes the corner of my eye. “Drunk Lila is a real blabbermouth. I need to have a stern word with her.”
“I like Drunk Delilah. Like all the Delilah’s I’ve seen so far.”
“You haven’t met PMS Delilah yet. She’s a gem.”
“Looking forward to that.”
We both glance at the door when we hear the crowd’s cheers swell to a crushing roar.
“I think that’s your cue,” I whisper against his lips.
He nods. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
Cupping his face in my hands, I stare into his eyes. “You’ve got this.”
“Know I do, babe.”
“Don’t let him break your nose.”
Take Your Time (A Boston Love Story Book 4) Page 27