Truly Madly Yours

by Rachel Gibson

  “She and Sophie went to the bathroom,” Louie answered, his brown eyes moving from Delaney to Nick, then back again. “Stick around though, she’ll be right back.”

  “Actually I wanted to talk to Nick.” She turned and looked up at the man responsible for the chaotic feelings colliding in her heart. She stared into his face, and she knew she’d somehow fallen madly in love with the boy who used to fascinate and torment her at the same time. They were both adults now, but nothing had changed. He’d just found new and better ways of torturing her. “If you have a minute, I need to talk to you.”

  Without a word he disengaged himself from Gail and moved toward her. “What’s up, wild thing?”

  She glanced at the people around them, then looked into his face. His cheeks were red and she could see his breath against the darkness. “I wanted to thank you for the snow tires. I watched for you today, but you didn’t go to your office. So I thought I might find you here.” She rocked back on her heel and looked down at the toes of her boots. “Why did you do it?”

  “What?”

  “Put snow tires on Henry’s car. No man has ever given me tires.” Nervous laughter escaped her lips. “It was a really nice thing to do.”

  “I’m a really nice guy.”

  One corner of her mouth lifted. “No, you’re not.” She shook her head and lifted her gaze to his. “You’re rude and overbearing most of the time.”

  His smile showed his white teeth and creased the corners of his eyes. “What am I when I’m not rude and overbearing?”

  She made a fist and blew her breath into her cold hand. “Conceited.”

  “And?” He reached out and sandwiched her fingers between his warm palms.

  Out of the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of Gail moving toward them. “And I can see that I’ve come at a bad time.” She pulled her hand free and shoved it into her pocket. “I’ll talk to you some other time when you’re not busy.”

  “I’m not busy right now,” he said just as Gail came to stand next to him.

  “Hi, Delaney.”

  “Gail.”

  “I couldn’t make it to the fashion show Saturday night.” Gail glanced up at Nick and smiled. “I had something else going on, but I heard you did a real good job with the hair this year.”

  “I think everyone had a nice time.” Delaney took a step backward. Jealousy twisted like a hot knife in her gut, and she needed to get away from Nick and Gail and the sight of them together. “See ya around.”

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  “I have to check in on Duke and Dolores,” she answered, sounding pitiful to her own ears. “Then I’m meeting some friends,” she added the lie to salvage her pride and lifted her hand in an abbreviated wave, then turned to leave.

  In three long strides Nick caught up to her. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

  “You don’t have to.” She looked up at him, then over her shoulder at Gail, who stared after them as they moved toward the parking lot. “You’ll make your date mad.”

  “Gail isn’t my date, and you don’t need to worry about her.” He took Delaney’s hand in his and slid it into his coat pocket. “Why do you have to check on Henry’s dogs?”

  They walked by an ice genie sitting on his lamp. She didn’t know if she believed him about Gail, but decided to let the subject drop for now. “My mother left town with Max Harrison.” He wove his fingers through hers and hot tingles spread to her wrist. “They’re going to celebrate their Christmas on one of those love boats.”

  Nick slowed as they moved around a crowd gathered in front of the genie. “What about your Christmas?”

  The tingles swept to her elbow and further up her arm. “We’ll celebrate when she gets back. No big deal. I’m used to being alone during the holidays. I haven’t had a real Christmas since I left town anyway.”

  He didn’t say anything for a few moments as they walked from beneath a park light and through a patch of night. “Sounds lonely.”

  “Not really. I usually found someone who took pity on me. And besides, it was always my choice to stay away. I could have come back and apologized for being such a disappointment and pretended to be the daughter my parents wanted, but a few presents and a yule log weren’t worth my pride or my freedom.” She shrugged and purposely changed the subject. “You never did answer my question.”

  “What was that?”

  “The tires. Why did you do it?”

  “No one was safe with you driving that big boat of Henry’s. It was only a matter of time before you took out a couple of kids.”

  She looked up at him, at his dark profile. “Liar.”

  “Believe what you want,” he said, refusing to admit he might care for her.

  “How much do I owe you?”

  “Consider them a Christmas present.”

  They stepped off the curb into the parking lot and walked between a Bronco and a van. “I don’t have anything to give you.”

  “Yes, you do.” He stopped and raised her hand to this mouth. He brushed his lips across her knuckles. “When I’m not rude and overbearing and conceited… what am I?”

  She couldn’t see his features clearly through the darkness, but she didn’t need to see his eyes to know he stared at her over the back of her hand. She could feel his gaze just as surely as she could feel his touch. “You’re…” She could feel herself melt, right there in the parking lot with her toes frozen and the temperature below zero. She wanted to be with him. “You’re the man I think about all the time.” She pulled her hand free and raised onto the balls of her feet. “I think about your handsome face, wide shoulders, and your lips.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed into him. He ran his hand up and down her back, holding her close. Her heart pounded in her ears and she buried her cold nose just below his ear. “Then I think about licking you.”

  His hands stilled.

  “All over.” She touched the tip of her tongue to the side of his throat.

  “Jesus, Joseph, and Mary,” he groaned. “When do you have to meet your friends?”

  “What friends?”

  “You said you were meeting friends tonight.”

  “Oh, yeah.” She’d forgotten about her lie. “It’s not important. They won’t miss me if I don’t show up.”

  He pulled back to look at her. “What about the dogs?”

  “I really do have to let them out for a while. What about Gail?”

  “I told you not to worry about her.”

  “Are you seeing her?”

  “I see her.”

  “Are you having sex with her?”

  She could see the dark corners of his mouth pull into a frown. “No.”

  Delaney’s heart swelled, and she planted her mouth on his, devouring him with a hot kiss that left them both breathless. “Come with me.”

  “To Henry’s?”

  “Yes.”

  He didn’t speak for a moment, and she couldn’t tell what he might be thinking. “I’ll meet you there,” he finally said. “I need to talk to Louie, then swing by the drugstore.”

  She didn’t have to ask why. He pressed his lips to hers, then he was gone. She watched him walk away, his long, confident strides carrying him back into the park.

  On the drive to her mother’s, she tried to tell herself that Nick was hers for tonight, and nothing else mattered. She felt the slight vibration of the metal studs digging into snow and striking pavement and told herself that tonight was enough, and she tried to believe it.

  When she opened the front door of her mother’s house, Duke and Dolores greeted her with wagging tails and wet tongues. She let them out and stood on the sidewalk as they jumped into snow up to their bellies, two brown dogs in a thick blanket of white. She’d remembered her gloves this time and packed a few snowballs for Duke to catch in his mouth.

  Maybe she could convince Nick she was enough for him. She wanted to believe he wasn’t involved with anyone else. She wanted to believe him when he’d sai
d he wasn’t having sex with Gail, but she couldn’t trust him completely. She tossed a snowball to Dolores. It hit the dog’s side and the Weimaraner looked around without a clue. Delaney knew there was more between them than sex, and Nick had to know it, too. She could see it in his eyes when he looked at her. It was hot and intense, and after tonight, maybe he would want only her.

  I can’t be faithful to one woman, and you haven’t said anything to make me want to try.

  He wanted her. She wanted him. He didn’t love her. She loved him so much she ached. Her feelings hadn’t happened like a slow blissful glide through the tunnel of love. As with everything else involving Nick, loving him had blindsided her, smacked her for a loop and left her stunned. And so confused she felt like laughing and crying and maybe lying down and not getting back up until she had it all worked out in her head.

  As she made another snowball, she heard the Jeep’s engine before she saw the headlights pulling into the drive. The four-wheel drive stopped beneath a pool of light in front of the garage, and Duke and Dolores bounded across the yard to the driver’s side, barking like mad. The door swung open and Nick stepped out. “Hey, dogs.” He bent to scratch them behind their ears before he looked up. “Hey, wild thing.”

  “Are you ever going to stop calling me that?”

  He glanced back down at Duke and Dolores. “No.”

  Delaney threw the snowball and nailed the top of his head. The light snow disintegrated on impact and powdered his dark hair and the shoulders of his black parka. Slowly he straightened, then shook his head, showering the night with white flakes. “I would think you’d know better than to get into a snowball fight with me.”

  “What are you going to do, give me a black eye?”

  “Nope.” He moved toward her up the sidewalk, the heels of his boots sounding ominous in the still air.

  She reached for more snow and packed it lightly in her gloved hands. “If you try anything funny, you’ll be really sorry.”

  “You got me scared, wild thing.”

  She threw the snowball and it exploded across his chest. “I owed you that.” She took a step backward into the yard and sank in white powder up to her knees.

  “You owe me a lot.” He grabbed her upper arms and lifted her until the toes of her Doc Marten’s hardly touched the ground. “By the time I’m finished collecting from you, you’re not going to able to walk for a week.”

  “You got me scared,” she drawled. He looked at her through lowered lids, and she thought he would pull her against the length of his body and kiss her. He didn’t. He tossed her backward. A startled squeal escaped her lips as she flew a few feet and fell spread-eagle in the snow. It was like landing on a down pillow, and she lay there stunned, staring up at the black sky crammed full of gleaming stars. Duke and Dolores barked, jumped on top of her, and licked her face. Over the heavy panting of excited dogs, she heard the sound of deep rich laughter. She pushed the dogs away and sat up. “Jerk.” She dug snow out of the back of her collar and the top of her gloves. “Help me up.” She held up a hand and waited until he’d pulled her to her feet before she used all her weight and dragged him with her to the ground. He landed on top of her with an oomph. Bemusement creased his brow as if he couldn’t quite believe what had happened.

  She tried to draw a deep breath and couldn’t. “You’re kind of heavy.”

  He rolled to his back, taking her with him, which was exactly where she wanted to be. Her legs rested beside his, and she grabbed his collar in both her fists. “Say uncle and I won’t have to hurt you.”

  He looked up at her as if she were crazy. “To a girl? Not in this life.”

  The dogs jumped over them as if they were hurdles, and she picked up a handful of snow and dropped it on his face. “Come and look at this, Duke. It’s Frosty the Basque Snowman.”

  With his bare hand, he brushed the white flakes from his tan skin and licked them from his lips. “I’m going to have a real good time making you pay for this.”

  She lowered her face and slipped the tip of her tongue across his bottom lip. “Let me do that for you.” She felt his response in the catch in his breath and the tight grasp on her arms. She kissed his hot mouth and sucked his tongue. When she was finished, she sat up across his hips, her wool coat fanned out around them. Through her jeans she felt his full arousal pushing into her, long and hard and blatant. “Is that an icicle in your pocket, or are you happy to see me?”

  “Icicle?” He slid his hands beneath her coat and up her thighs. “Icicles are cold. You’re sitting on twelve hot inches.”

  She lifted her eyes to the night sky. “Twelve inches.” He was big, but he wasn’t that big.

  “It’s a known fact.”

  Delaney laughed and rolled off him. He might be right about that hot part, though. He certainly knew how to set her on fire.

  “My ass is frozen.” He sat up and Duke and Dolores jumped on him. “Hey, now,” he said as he pushed them away and helped Delaney to her feet. She brushed the snow off his parka; he brushed it out of her hair. On the porch they stomped their feet, then went inside. Delaney took his coat and hung it on the rack by the front door. As he looked around, she took the opportunity to study him. He wore a flannel shirt, of course. Solid red flannel tucked inside his faded Levi’s.

  “Have you ever been in here before?”

  “Once.” He returned his gaze to hers. “The day Henry’s will was read.”

  “Oh, yeah.” She glanced about, trying to see the foyer through new eyes, as if she’d never stood there before. It was a typical Victorian. White paint and wallpaper, dark wood and wainscoting, thick handwoven rugs from Persia, antique grandfather clock. Everything was rich and somewhat oppressive, and they were both aware that if Henry had been interested in being a father, Nick would have grown up in the huge house. She wondered if he considered himself lucky.

  They took off their wet, frozen boots by the door, and she suggested he build a fire in the parlor while she moved to the kitchen and made Irish coffee. When she returned ten minutes later, she found him standing before the traditional hearth, staring at the portrait of Henry’s mother hanging above the mantel. There was only a slight resemblance between Alva Morgan Shaw and her only grandson. Nick looked out of place among his ancestral trappings. His own home suited him much better, exposed beams and river rock and soft flannel sheets.

  “What do you think?” she asked as she set a glass tray on the sideboard.

  “About what?”

  She pointed to the picture of Henry’s mother, who’d relocated to the capital city long before Delaney’s arrival in Truly. Henry had taken Gwen and Delaney to visit the old woman several times a year until she’d died in 1980, and as far as Delaney could remember, the portrait was quite flattering. Alva had been a tall skinny woman with bony features like a stork, and Delaney recalled her smelling of stale tobacco and Aqua-Net. “Your grandmother.”

  Nick cocked his head to one side. “I think I’m glad I favor my mother’s side, and you’re lucky you were adopted.”

  “Don’t hold back.” Delaney laughed. “Tell me what you really think.”

  Nick turned to look at her and wondered what she would do if he told her. He ran his gaze over her blond hair and big brown eyes, the arch of her brow and her pink lips. He’d been thinking about a lot of things lately, things that would never happen, things it was best not to think about. Things like waking up with Delaney every morning for the rest of his life and watching her hair turn gray. “I’m thinking the old man is pretty happy with himself just about now.”

  She handed him a mug, then raised her own and blew into it. “How do you figure that?”

  He took a mouthful of the coffee and felt the whiskey burn clear to his stomach. He liked the feeling. It reminded him of her.

  “Henry didn’t want us to be together.”

  He wondered if he should tell her the truth, and decided why the hell not. “You’re wrong. He wanted us to end up together. That’s why yo
u’re stuck here in Truly. Not to keep your mother company.” The creases in her forehead told him she didn’t believe him for a minute. “Trust me on this.”

  “Okay, why?”

  “You really want to know?”

  “Yes.”

  “All right. A few months before he died, he offered me everything. He said he’d have to leave a little something to Gwen, but he’d leave everything else to me if I gave him a grandchild. He would have cut you out completely.” He paused before he added, “I told him to go to hell.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “I guess he figured a bastard son was better than no son, and if I don’t have children, then all that superior Shaw blood dies with me.”

  She frowned and shook her head. “Okay, but that doesn’t have anything to do with me.”

  “Sure it does.” He reached for her free hand and pulled her closer. “It’s crazy, but he thought, because of what happened out at Angel Beach, I was in love with you.” He rubbed the back of her knuckles with his thumb.

  Her gaze searched his face then she looked away. “You’re right. It’s crazy.”

  He dropped her hand. “If you don’t believe me, ask Max. He knows all about it. He drafted the will.”

  “It still doesn’t make a lot of sense. It’s so risky, and Henry was too controlling to leave this to chance. I mean, what if I’d married before he died? He could have lived for years, and in the meantime, I could have become a nun or something.”

  “Henry killed himself.”

  “No way.” She shook her head again. “He loved himself too much to do something like that. He loved being a big fish in a small pond.”

  “He was dying of prostate cancer and only had a few months to live anyway.”

  Her mouth fell open a little, and she blinked several times. “No one told me.” Her brows scrunched together, and she rubbed the side of her neck. “Does my mother know any of this?”

  “She knows about his cancer and the suicide.”

  “Why didn’t she tell me?”

  “I don’t know. You’ll have to ask her.”