Page 79 of Attached At Heart
Since I wasn’t sure if I’d survive looking at the picture in my current state, I handed my phone to her so she could have a look. Her cheeks reddened as soon as she saw it, filling me with a curiosity that would likely destroy me if I followed it. So when she handed it back to me, I immediately pocketed it.
“Maybe they have some, um, sapphire-blue tulips around here for you,” she said before I could ask her if the picture was good enough. Hell, I wouldn’t mind taking another.
I chuckled. “I don’t think that’s a thing, Lane.”
She grabbed at my hand, quickly leading me away. Almost like if she left this spot, she could run away from whatever just happened.
“Let’s look anyway,” Delaney insisted, and I followed her as we strolled through the fields for another half an hour, pretending that we hadn’t just kissed. Pretending that it had been for a photo. Pretending we were just two best friends who happened to be married and nothing more.
In the end, we didn’t find any.
No sapphire-blue tulips.
Only sapphire-blue eyes.
And a shiny sapphire ring that kept sparkling in the springtime sun.
After we finished at the gardens, we took a bus back to the train and rode it to the city of Alkmaar in time to catch the last of the weekly cheese market they put on in the city square. It also meant that it was jam-packed with other people here to do the same thing.
Delaney reached for my hand as we shimmied and slipped through the crowd, following the voice of the announcer and the flashes of men and women in traditional Dutch attire, carrying around wheels of cheese on so me kind of wooden sling between them.
“This is amazing,” Delaney laughed as she snagged a spot at the rope that surrounded the live market. “I’ve never seen so much cheese in my life.”
It really wasa lotof cheese.
I stood behind her, watching as the man to her left glanced over at the sound of her voice and then did a double take. I couldn’t blame him; Delaney was so fucking beautiful it hurt to look at her sometimes.
I was so busy glowering at the gawker that I didn’t notice the guy trying to budge his way in front of Delaney until she stumbled back into me from the force of the man’s intrusion. I wrapped an arm around her waist, tugging her back into my chest and bracing her from behind. Glaring at the back of the man’s head, I wondered if I should say something, but then he turned around and made up my mind for me.
“Move the fuck over, will ya? We’re all trying to see here.”
His voice dripped with irritation, and while I couldn’t place his accent, I knew it wasn’t Dutch, telling me he was likely a tourist like us. His brows furrowed as he looked straight at Delaney likeshe’ddone something wrong.
“Oh, I—” she started, stumbling over her words with noticeable shock at his anger. I waited for a second to see if she was going to continue, but when she didn’t, the man mocked her. Fuckingmockedher.
“Oh, I—” he mimicked before rolling his eyes, and my vision blurred, a hazy red overtaking my senses.
“Leave my wife the fuck alone, or the only thing you’ll be seeing is stars,” I threatened.
The man’s beady eyes flicked up to me for the first time, and I could tell he hadn’t registered that I was standing there behind her. Or maybe he just hadn’t registered that we were together. Whatever it was, he was just a pathetic asshole who clearly preyed on women that he thought he could push around. Literally.
“Get the fuck out of here,” I pushed out through gritted teeth, in case he hadn’t gotten the picture yet. Delaney tensed in my arms, and I squeezed her tighter, holding her firm to my chest.
To my surprise, the man took a few moments to glare at me and then turned on his heel, muttering something about how this shit wasn’t worth it. I watched him go, keeping my eyes on the back of his head until I could be sure he was gone. Meanwhile, I didn’t let go of Delaney, and she didn’t protest. Her attention had drifted back toward the market, observing how they weighed and sorted the wheels of cheese.
A moment or two passed before she muttered over her shoulder, “You can’t just threaten people who are rude to me, Blake.”
“Why not?” I grunted. Did she seriously think I would just let people talk like that to her and stand by, doing nothing?
“Because you’re going to get hurt.”
“I’mgoing to get hurt? Ouch, Lane.”
“What? I was worried he was going to punch you for a second.”
“You’ve wounded my very important ego.” I leaned forward, letting my lips graze the shell of her ear as I reminded her, “You do remember that dodging punches and punching things back is, like, my only hobby.”
“I bet people’s faces are harder than a punching bag,” she reasoned, although I couldn’t help but note how her voice sounded threadbare. “We wouldn’t want you bruising your knuckles.”
