Page 118 of On the Power Play

"Do you mind if I change? I've been wearing this since we left the house this morning." Delia pushed her suitcase into the room and unzipped it.

"Go ahead. You can take a shower if you want."

Delia's eyes widened. "Do I smell? I probably do. I was in a car for three hours and?—"

"No, you don't smell." Jack laughed and sat on the end of the bed. "I was offering in case you wanted it."

Delia grabbed cotton pants and a shirt from her bag and stood. "Okay."

Jack reached for the remote, working hard to ignore the rush of blood in the opposite direction of his head. He cleared his throat. "I'll see what's on."

He concentrated on the red, half-moon power button harder than anything else in his life as Delia nodded and turned to the washroom. As soon as the door clasped shut, Jack flopped back on the bed and drew a much-needed full breath.

He couldn't think. His stomach swirled like he was about to jump off a ten-metre diving board, and his tongue moved like he had peanut butter stuck to the roof of his mouth.

What did he want out of tonight? It was the stupidest question he'd ever asked himself. His muscles were gassed. His legs trembled even sitting still on the bed. And yet all he could think about was movement. Exertion. What Delia's skin would feel like under her shirt. Under her?—

A knock at the door made him jump. He dropped the remote, realizing he hadn't done anything other than turn the TV on, and stalked to the door. He peered through the peephole and saw the second best thing to Delia's bare skin. Food.

Jack ripped open the door and took the first tray from the staff member. The man didn’t look surprised to see him, so someone must’ve prepped him for the room he’d be stopping at. Jack returned for the second tray at the same time that Delia opened the washroom door. She stepped out, and the man’s eyes bugged out of his head. Jack took the tray before he could drop it.

"Holy hell. D-delia Melise?" the man stammered.

She smiled and nodded.

"Oh, and you're—sorry, I didn't put the name together. Jack Harrison. Duh. Makes perfect sense now." He took a step back from the door. "Edmonton's my team. Obviously. But sorry about the loss, and—you two have a good night."

Jack gave him a wave and shut the door, then took the second tray to the desk. When had it become so ordinary to have someone fall all over themselves because he and Delia existed? It was ludicrous, and yet it had become so commonplace, it was almost stranger when someone didn’t know who they were.

He loved that the employee hadn’t known him until he spotted Delia. Maybe most men would’ve wanted it the other way around, but he didn’t. The idea of being known as Delia Melise’s boyfriend sent heat flashing under his skin. It was stupid, but seeing that other people saw them belonging to each other made him more sure he wasn’t crazy for wanting it to be true.

Jack took the lids off the plates and the aroma of steak, potatoes, and roasted vegetables filled the room. He audibly exhaled.

Delia laughed. "Wow. I've never seen a person food-gasm before."

Jack turned and raised an eyebrow, and Delia blushed, her skin getting all splotchy on her neck. It was an impossible situation. Whether to put the steak or Delia into his mouth first. But since he hadn’t quite grown the balls to tell Delia about the thoughts in his head, the steak won out for the moment.

His stomach gurgled as he grabbed his napkin-wrapped cutlery and the packet of HP sauce, then took his plate to the bed. He propped himself up with the extra pillows and started to dig in.

“Ooh, the TV guide. Riveting.” Delia set her plate down on the comforter and tossed him the remote, then went back for a bottle of water. "You want one?"

Jack nodded, his mouth already full of steak and potatoes. Delia brought one over and set it on his nightstand, then retrieved her plate, set her water on her side, and shuffled onto the bed next to him.

Jack set his fork on his plate and scrolled through the channels. "Hey, there's the original ‘Iron Man.’"

"That fits our theme. Men who fly solo and eventually lose everything they love."

"He doesn't lose Pepper."

"Not in this movie."

Jack frowned. "Wait, doesn't he eventually die? He sacrifices everything for the Avengers?"

Delia pondered. "Yeah. I guess he does break the mold. He builds real friendships."

"Does that mean I have to find something else?"

She grinned and took a bite of roasted broccoli. "No, let's do it."

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