I hated making her feel this way, but it was for the best. No one would get hurt.
By Friday, I’d convinced myself that I'd made the right decision. Delilah seemed unfazed that morning when she came in and set to work making breakfast. The tension had eased as a sense of acceptance settled around us. There was a calm that hadn’t been there before, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
When I arrived home from work, the delicious aroma of tomatoes, roasted garlic, and fresh basil wafted through the air. I entered the kitchen to find Delilah and Charlie sitting at the kitchen table, a bottle of fingernail polish clasped between Delilah’s fingers.
“Wook, Daddy!” Charlie chirped. “I getting a manicure.” She swung her legs back and forth in excitement but made sure not to move her hands. Her palms were pressed to the table, her fingers splayed so they didn’t touch.
“I hope that’s okay,” Delilah said, not sparing me a glance. She concentrated instead on polishing the tiny pinky nail on Charlie’s right hand.
“Of course.”
“All done,” Delilah announced. “You just need to let them dry.”
“Okay.” Charlie continued to swing her legs, needing a way to release the pent-up energy.
Delilah stood and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She went to the oven and opened it to check the contents. Satisfied with what she found, she closed the door and plucked her purse from the counter.
“That needs to come out in about ten minutes.” She slung the strap over her shoulder and headed for the door.
“You’re not staying for dinner?” She almost always ate dinner with us these days. It was unusual for her to rush out the door.
“I can’t,” she said, refusing to meet my eye.
I hoped she wasn’t rushing off because I’d made her feel unwelcome. I had been a little gruff and distant toward her this week.
Before I could think better of it, I asked, “Why not?”
Her gaze lifted to mine, and she straightened. “I have a date.” It was then that I noticed she was wearing makeup. Her blue eyes were accentuated by dark shadows and thick black lashes. Her lips were stained a dark berry color, and her hair fell down her back in waves. A simple but elegant back dress hugged her delicious curves like a second skin. She looked stunning, leaving me momentarily speechless. A knot formed in my stomach, and jealousy rose in my chest. I wanted to be the one she got fixed up for. I wanted to be the one who took her out on the town. But I couldn’t. And now someone else got the honor of showing her a good time.
I swallowed back my pride and forced a smile. I should have wished her luck or told her to have a good time, but I couldn’t make myself say that. I didn’t mean it. So instead, I opted for, “Be careful.”
She nodded and slipped through the door, never once looking back.
34
Delilah
Resigned satisfaction settledin my chest. Seeing Vance’s jaw flex and his eyes darken at the mention of my date—and seeing me all fixed up for it—sent a victorious feeling coursing through my veins. Maybe I was being petty, but he’d been gruff and dismissive all week, as though he was merely tolerating my presence. It hurt. Over the last couple months, we’d gotten to know each other better and had connected on a deeper level. And not just because he had his tongue down my throat and his hand in my panties last week.
Aside from that, we talked more. Not long, deep conversations, but bits and pieces before he left in the morning and at the dinner table that culminated in a comfortable familiarity. I got to know him in increments, piece by piece as he revealed a little slice of his personality to me every day. Now that I was falling for him, he’d taken that away. Like ripping the rug out from under me, he left me stunned and a little confused with a slow ache spreading through my body. Therefore, if me going on a date with another man caused him a little discomfort, all the better.
Attempting to push all thoughts of Vance aside, I focused on my upcoming date. Duke wasted no time asking me out. I’d given him my number before leaving the club Saturday night, and he texted me the next day. After a couple days of messaging back and forth, he asked me to dinner. There was nothing holding me back—certainly not hope that Vance would finally come around and accept what was growing between us—so I said yes. He seemed like a nice guy and was interested in spending more time with me, so I decided to give him a chance.
I should’ve known better. When something seemed too good to be true, it usually was.
Everything started out fine. He showed up on time to pick me up and told me how amazing I looked. He opened my door and ensured my comfort during the drive into the city. We made small talk on the way there, keeping the conversation light as we talked mostly about school and work. Things took a turn once we got to the restaurant, and I realized halfway through dinner that Duke wasn’t the gentleman I thought he was.
“And that wasn’t the only interesting place we visited in Amsterdam.” Duke gave me a knowing look, and I inwardly cringed. He’d been droning on and on about his travels through Europe and in nearly every story he told, he hinted at sex. The dude was obsessed. I mean, hell this was our first date, and he was already dropping hints about me going back to his place. No thank you. I fought the urge to cover the neckline of my dress every time his eyes dropped to my cleavage. This guy was only interested in one thing, and I wanted to kick myself for not realizing it sooner. He’d certainly played his role expertly, and I’d fallen right into his hands. A shiver ran down my spine as he began talking about dungeons and clubs, and I knew I needed to find a way out of this date.
I placed my napkin on the table and excused myself. Slipping out of my seat, I headed straight for the ladies’ room. I had to get out of here, but my mom was at work, and all my friends lived a good forty minutes away. Dinner would be over by then, and I could only stall for so long. There was no way I was leaving with this man. I didn’t want to be alone with him in his car again. That only left me one choice. Pushing aside my reluctance, I tapped on the one name in my phone that I knew could get to me in time and pressed it to my ear. It rang three times before the call connected.
“Delilah?” I breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of his gruff greeting.
“Vance.” My voice trembled even as my shoulders sagged.
“What’s wrong?” Sensing something was off, he was instantly on high alert.
“I need to ask you for a favor.”