Page 51 of Twisted Fate

“And for the record,” she snapped, her face twisting into a sneer, “you aren't good enough for my son. You never will be,” she declared, turning on her heel and walking out the door, leaving me standing there speechless.

Was that really what she thought of me? That I had pursued Vance for my own personal gain? That I was trying to replace Sarah? Nobody could replace Sarah, not in Charlie’s heart or Vance’s. I wasn’t merely a clone of my cousin, a second-rate version of her, and I was tired of being made to feel like I was.

I decided I didn’t care what Vivian thought. She could like me or hate me, but I wasn’t going anywhere.

44

Vance

Delilah was unusuallyquiet as we ate dinner. Her normal jovial mood and playful banter were noticeably absent, and I worried she was upset about this morning. She seemed hesitant at first when I asked her opinion about the new preschool, but she didn’t voice any objections. Maybe she wasn’t comfortable saying anything in front of my mom since it was her idea. Now I wondered if I should’ve talked to Delilah about it before agreeing to check it out. I hadn’t considered how sending Charlie to preschool would affect her. How could I have been so thoughtless?

If she was worried that she wouldn’t get to see Charlie as much, there was an easy solution for that. She could simply spend more time with her outside of her usual working hours. However, if she had other concerns, I wanted to hear them before I committed to anything. It wasn’t too late to back out. The tour I’d scheduled for next week could be postponed or even canceled.

“Hey,” I said softly, hooking a finger under her chin once she was finished packing away leftovers. Charlie was playing in the other room, so it was just the two of us. “Is everything okay?”

She nodded but averted her gaze. “I’m just tired,” she claimed, offering me a weak smile.

“Delilah, talk to me. Whatever is on your mind, you can be honest with me.” She bit down on her lip as a look of contemplation flashed over her features. “If you’re upset about the preschool, we can talk about it. Nothing is set in stone. If you have concerns, I want to know.” She let out a relieved breath, and her shoulders slumped.

“I just—” she began, her eyes falling shut as she searched for the right words. “I’m worried. She had such a hard time before. I’m afraid it will be the same thing all over again, but I’m also afraid if we don’t try now, she’ll end up having the same issues when she goes to kindergarten.” Her blue eyes shimmered with concern, her dark brows knitting together. “Plus,” she began, glancing away as though ashamed, “I will miss out on that time we usually spend together.”

I reached up and brushed away a rogue lock of her hair before cupping her face and forcing her to look at me. “You can see her any time you want,” I asserted. “You are not limited to only the days you watch her.” Her gaze searched mine as she soaked up my meaning. She was always welcome here, but apparently, I hadn’t made that clear before. Now there was no question.

“Thank you,” she said and leaned into me, resting her cheek on my chest as my arms came around her.

With that out of the way, we spent the evening discussing all the pros and cons of sending Charlie to preschool and decided to give it a try. I was worried that changing her routine would hinder her progress, but Delilah argued that the progress she’d already made could be the key to helping her transition smoothly to a new setting. She also suggested that we talk to Charlie about it first and show her pictures of the school so she could become familiar with it and not feel so overwhelmed.

To my surprise, Charlie beamed with excitement when we sat her down the next day and told her all about it. I let her see the brochure Mom gave me and pulled up the school’s website on my phone.

When we arrived for our tour the following week, she ran right to the front door and bounced on the balls of her feet until we were buzzed in. We were greeted by the program director who gave us the tour. They were open and friendly and answered all our questions. The school seemed like a great fit for Charlie.

“Well, what do you think, munchkin?” I asked, crouching so I was at eye level with Charlie. We were on the playground letting her explore while we talked to the director and Charlie’s potential new teacher.

“I love it,” she chirped excitedly. “Can I go down the slide again?”

“Of course. Just a couple more times, then we have to go back inside, okay?” She nodded emphatically even though she had no intention of stopping after a couple. Nine trips down the slide later and I was signing the final enrollment form.

Charlie was asleep before we made it back home. She didn’t nap much these days, but being in the car always lulled her to sleep. After tucking her into her bed, I went downstairs to grab my laptop and bag. I’d only taken a half day off work and planned to head to the office as soon as I dropped Charlie and Delilah off, but when I entered the kitchen, I halted in my tracks. The sight in front of me was too good to be true.

Delilah stood at the island, a mixing bowl in her hands. She had pulled her long, dark, tresses into a high, messy bun, exposing her slender neck. Her blazer lay draped over the back of a chair, leaving her in just a silky tank top and curve hugging dark jeans. That wasn’t even the best part. It was the vintage style apron with its flared skirt and ruffles at the bust that did it for me. The front pocket read “Kiss the Chef” and I planned to do just that.

Noticing my appreciative gaze, she pinched the fabric on the skirt of her apron and did a little curtsy. “What do you think?” she asked, looking down at herself. Her eyes lifted to mine when I took a step toward her, and she swallowed hard as she took in my heated gaze.

“I’d like it better if there was nothing underneath it,” I confessed, low and husky, before I roughly pulled her to me. My lips crashed down on hers as I claimed her mouth and wrapped my arms around her, pressing every solid inch of my body against hers. She moaned into my kiss when my fingers gripped the back of her neck, holding her to me possessively. Lifting the front of her apron, I flicked open the top button on her jeans. A vague pounding sound echoed in my ears, and I wondered at how quickly my pulse had picked up.

My tongue tangled with hers as I drew her zipper down, ready to plunge my fingers inside her panties. The lyrical chime of my doorbell drew me from my haze, and I broke our kiss. The pounding returned, and I realized it wasn’t my heart but someone knocking on the front door. I cursed under my breath and released Delilah.

“Who the hell could that be?” I growled, and Delilah gave me a sheepish look.

“That would be Emily,” she said, untying the apron and tossing it onto the counter. She quickly zipped and buttoned her pants before dashing toward the door.

“Emily?” I asked, confused, but she was already out of the kitchen and heading for the foyer.Shit.I adjusted myself, hiding my raging hard-on before following after her.

Delilah swung the door open to reveal my sister-in-law standing on my front porch. “Hey!” she greeted us cheerily. Emily stepped inside, and Delilah pulled her into a hug.

“Heaven’s sake, what took you so long?” she chided playfully. “I’ve been pounding on that door for five minutes straight,” she claimed in an exaggerated manner.

“No, you haven’t,” Delilah returned with a chuckle and eye roll. It was refreshing to witness their banter. After Delilah revealed the truth behind Charlie’s paternity, she confessed that she lost touch with Emily after pushing her away. They’d been close growing up. Emily was only a year older than Delilah and at one point, they were inseparable. After Charlie was born, she shut everybody out, including Emily.

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