“Delilah,” I whisper, my thumbs caressing paths over her temples. “All the things I’ve said—”
“Are in the past.” Her lips press to my cheek. “I wish I was there. I wish I had known.”
“You were there. You were always with me.” She has to understand this. I sit down and pull her onto my lap. “That’s what kills me, Tot. When I thought of you, it drove me on. I didn’t feel alone. You say I’m the voice in your head, telling you what you aren’t. I want to be the voice telling you all the things that you are. Talented and funny and fearless as hell.”
It’s then that I notice she’s wearing the necklace. I trace the chain, stopping at a glinting diamond. “That you are beautiful to me in the way of stars.”
“Macon . . .” Her fingers comb through my hair. “I shouldn’t admit this, but even when you were at your worst, when I’d be dreaming of tarring and feathering you and leaving your carcass out for the birds to pick over”—I laugh at that—“I admired your arrogance.”
“Did you?”
As if to steady me, she rests her palm on my chest, surely feeling the hard beat of my heart. “I used to channel that arrogance. If I ever became intimidated or felt less than, I used to think, ‘What would Macon Saint do?’”
My smile grows wide, and she returns it.
“So you see. It wasn’t all bad. You were there with me, too, giving me strength, forcing me to be better than I thought I could.” Her touch is warm and steady along my jaw. “I made a deal to stay here, expecting the worst, but I found the best man I’ve ever known.”
Her words punch into me. It’s sweet pain. A small voice in me wants to say I’m not good; I’m not remotely the best. But if she has to believe in how I see her, I have to do the same.
Her gaze searches my face in wonder. “I’d told myself I made that deal with you for my family, but when I walked into your office, I felt alive in a way I hadn’t for ten years. I know now that I made that deal for me too. I’m here for you, Macon. That’s the honest truth.”
Expelling a long breath, I grip the nape of her neck, holding on. “We going to do this, Delilah?”
“Yes, we’re going to do this.”
Weirdly, it feels as though I’ve been waiting my whole life to hear that.
By silent agreement, Delilah and I spend the day together, simply soaking each other in. We hang out like we did as kids, only this time, it’s Delilah who is curled up against my side when we watch movies. It’s Delilah whose hair I stroke. I’m content to stay that way all night. That is until the sound of Delilah’s stomach growling loud and insistent rings out. She turns bright red.
I burst out laughing but quickly quell it when she glares. “I’m sorry. But you are so fucking adorable.”
Delilah makes a face and slaps the side of my arm. “Ass.”
I laugh again and quickly kiss her cheek. “I’m hungry too. Let’s get some dinner.”
The sun has sunk entirely, and the sky is purple in the twilight. I hadn’t noticed. Rising, I offer to cook. Delilah raises a brow.
“What? I can cook,” I protest. “It’s nothing close to what you do, but I can manage simple meals.”
“I believe you.” Delilah rises from the couch, distracting me with her body. “I was just thinking maybe we could go out.”
Go out. For normal people this wouldn’t be a problem. For me, it’s something different. Call me selfish, but I don’t want to share Delilah right now. Out there, I will have to because people inevitably notice.
She clearly sees my hesitation. “Nothing fancy, totally casual. We can even eat in the car if you want,” she adds with a brow wiggle like she’s enticing me to sin.
“Now I’m intrigued.”
“You’ll love it,” she says as we go to change. “Besides, I want to show you something.”
It strikes me just how dangerous it is to live with Delilah because getting ready for dinner feels like we’re something more than just starting out. It’s comfortable in a way I’ve never experienced. Real in a way I only allow myself to dream about in the darkest corner of my mind.
All this time, I worried about hurting Delilah, but now I wonder if I’m the one who will be left stripped bare and empty. I shrug the worry aside. We said we’d try. That’s all anyone can do.
Delilah takes me to a small taco stand down the coast, tucked between the highway and the sea. The rocky inlet has enough room for the cars, a parking lot, and another cottage-size restaurant that’s closed for business.