Page 23 of Mine to Love
I never gave much thought to love and relationships—ever—until I saw Alister fall in love with Ariana. The way she made him feel alive after feeling so dead inside for so long, it’s no wonder he gave up everything hoping to be with her. Maybe seeing their love and devotion, seeing Alister moving forward in his life, is what opened my heart to love, to change, to hope for brighter days. Though, as I pull the spare set of clothes from underneath the sink and quickly dress, I know I don’t deserve it.
I don’t deserve that light, that hope, that love—not after my failure. Still, I promised Darcy that I’d keep her safe. I promised I’d take care of her and Delilah, and I will, just like how I’m trying to take care of everyone else. I can’t change the past, though I’d give anything, including my last breath, to do so. All I can do now is not fail twice.
20
Thankfully,I avoided a full-blown panic attack this morning. But, with the extra time spent cleaning in Gio’s bathroom, getting Delilah up, and cleaning out the expired goods from the fridge and pantry, I’m behind on cooking breakfast. I grab my phone out of my back pocket and check the time. It’s ten minutes to 8:00 and I haven’t even decided what to make of the measly ingredients left after the cleanout. “Shit!”
“Mommy, you said a bad word,” Delilah says. She’s on the floor between the kitchen and dining room playing with her new dollhouse Gio sneakily got for her. I’ve got to say it was a sweet surprise and Delilah’s eyes lit up when she first saw it amongst the many bags in our room.
“Yes, sweetie, I know. I’m sorry.” I steal one more glance as she returns her attention to her toy. I can’t help but smile at seeing her clean, clothed, hair brushed, smelling sweet, and playing. She’s happy, content. Most importantly, she’s safe. God, I wish I could live in this moment with her forever. But, as time keeps ticking, I force myself to focus on the ingredients I’ve laid out on the wooden prep table.
I could do breakfast burritos again or a breakfast hash with the remaining turkey and potatoes we have. But I’d like to do something else. While inspecting all the items in the pantry, I discovered some baking ingredients I could use to make pancakes. Well, vegan pancakes, considering the eggs and dairy milk are expired. But the coconut milk I found in the pantry will make a decent substitute and anything slathered in maple syrup should be tasty. And, since I’ll be going grocery shopping later today, I’ll pan fry the rest of the turkey for a savory side.
Now with a plan, I hunt through the kitchen cabinets in search of the bowls, measuring cups, and skillets I need. It feels like it takes forever just to find the stuff. By the time I do, I spot Gio through one of the kitchen windows running along the trail with Ru toward the house. Another expletive rises on my tongue but I swallow it to avoid exposing Delilah to such language. But, come on, I had two hours to do one thing, and it’s the one thing I didn’t do.
I shake my head, disappointed in myself, as I quickly measure out the ingredients for the pancake batter. I’m in the middle of mixing it when Gio walks in, sweaty, a little out of breath, and in a different outfit than he left in. Or, at least, he has a shirt on instead of being half naked. I can’t tell if the pants are different or not.
As he enters, I give him a quick glance and then do my best to avoid eye contact so as not to draw attention to my poor time management skills. Though I do observe his brief exchange with Delilah. “Good morning, Delilah,” he says with a smile. Ru immediately goes to her and starts licking her head to toe. Delilah giggles and starts rolling on the floor, playing with Ru.
“Good morning,” Delilah says in between laughs.
“Well, I think we know who Ru’s favorite is,” Gio notes as he watches the two of them play.
I smile despite the nerves dancing in my stomach and the headache I feel coming on from all the worrying. The memory of what happened the last time I made pancakes isn’t lost on me. But perhaps more than fears from the past are worries for the present. Will Gio be mad that I’m behind schedule? Will he second guess his decision to hire me? More importantly, what would Gio mad look like?God, I don’t know.My intrusive thoughts have me stirring the batter faster and faster. Catching myself, I put it to the side to let it rest and begin preparing my pan to fry the turkey.
I place one of my skillets on the gas stovetop, add a little oil to the pan, and turn on the heat. When I turn around, I’m surprised to find Gio joining me in the kitchen. “Oh!” Startled, I step back to put some distance between us. But, as I do, my backside bumps into the oven, throwing me off my balance.
I squeal as I fall backwards. The heat from the gas flames sends a wave of fear coursing through my veins as I reach for the handle of the oven door to steady myself. But as I do Gio moves toward me with such quickness I don’t even notice him until I’m three feet away from the stove, wrapped in his arms with my hands on his chest. Not only did he catch me, but he maneuvered me away from the stove so that he now stands between me and it. How did he do that? Did he pick me up? No, there’s no way. I mean, he’s strong, but…
As my fingers dig into the crevices of his chiseled chest and my heart races with the collision of all my fears, anxieties, and the pure shock of the moment, I slowly lift my eyes to meet Gio’s amber gaze. I find him watching me with parted lips, furrowed brows, and concern tightening his cheeks. His arms tight around my waist and his palms pressing firmly into my back, pulling me tight against him, he asks, “Are you okay?” His voice is low and strained as he speaks. So low, I’m almost unable to make out his words.
“Um, yes, yes.” Though the truth is, I don’t know what I am. My heart feels as if it may bounce right out of my chest and my legs feel heavy and weak. I know I should pull away from him. Perhaps I could breathe easier with some distance between us, but I fear I may faint if I move too quickly. It’s then that Gio’s eyes drift down to where my hands rest on his chest. As he spots the bandage on my finger, a fresh wave of concern seems to wash over himandme. I can’t tell him how I hurt my finger. I just can’t.
“What happened here?” He asks, moving one hand from my back to my wrist. Gently, he pulls my hand upward for a closer inspection.
“It’s just a cut. Accidental injury. It’s fine.” I brush it off, same as he did his gunshot graze this morning. A wrinkle appears on Gio’s forehead as he redirects his attention from my finger back to me. Though, interesting enough, as he releases his grip on my wrist, he does not do so haphazardly. Instead, he places my hand back on his chest in the same place I had it before. As he does, I feel the warmth radiating off him. And, in perfect rhythm, his heart beats beneath my palm. I inhale deeply, allowing my heart to steady and then pull away from him.
“I, um, I have enough experience with First Aid kits. I’m sure it’ll be fine in a few days. Although,youmay not be if I don’t get this breakfast made.” Though, as I turn around to get the sliced turkey off the prep table, I notice Delilah is missing. “Damn.” I curse.
“What’s wrong?” Gio moves to stand beside me. As he does, he places his palm on my lower back. The physical touch catches me off guard. But I can’t analyze it or even freak out about it right now.
“Delilah,” I say, shaking my head and slapping my palm hopelessly against my thigh. “She’s gone, which means she sawwhat happened and now she’s scared.” As is obvious by the abandoned dollhouse. No doubt Ru went with her.
“What, what do you mean? Why would she be scared?”
I sigh and lower my eyes to the ground. Gio rubs his hand up and down my back to soothe me. I’m not sure if it has the desired effect or not. But I don’t stop him. I suppose it’s nice to experience gentleness and support. The last time a man offered me any kind of comfort, it was my dad.
I turn to him. “Back in Montana, we played a lot of hide-and-seek. It started off as something fun, but then it became a necessity. I started using it as a tactic to get her out of the way when things would get dicey with her dad. She…she heard me scream and saw you moving toward me. She probably thinks you were hurting me the same way he used to.”
Understanding weighs heavily on Gio. At least, it appears so with the way he adjusts his posture to become more erect, making his shoulders appear broader. His gaze drifts from me to stare blankly past me. As he contemplates what I’ve said, he finally draws back his hand. To my surprise, I miss his soothing caress.
As frustration rises inside me, I move my gaze from him to the pancake batter and turkey slices in front of me. Though, breakfast is the last thing on my mind. “I feel like I ruined everything. It’s obvious she likes you and now she’ll second guess that. It’s not fair.” Defeat strains my voice as I speak. “She deserves to know a man she can trust. She needs to know not all men are the same.”
Frustrated with myself and my giant ass for causing the mishap in the first place, I move around the prep table in search of Delilah. At least, I start to. But Gio reaches out and, grabbing hold of my hand, stops me. I turn back to him, allowing my gaze to drift from where his fingers intertwine with mine all the way until our eyes meet.
“Darcy, you didn’t ruin anything,” he says, gently pulling me back to him. His eyes are filled with sincerity and there’s a gentleness in his features, in his touch, that makes me want to believe me. “It’s good that Delilah likes me because I like her too. And I like her mom.” Gio’s comments have my lips drawing into a small smile and the tension in my body melting. “I hope both you and Delilah can grow to trust me, because I’m not going anywhere. And I will never hurt you. These hands are for many things, but never will they work against you.”
Gio gives my hand a little squeeze, the same as he did last night. As he does, there’s a twinkle in his eyes that I don’t think I’ve seen before. Noticing the thick veins in his hands, I can only imagine the things they’re capable—the damage, the… “Youbothdeserve to know that not all men are the same. So, come on. Let’s go find her together, explain what happened, and then cook breakfast together.”
