Attached At Heart (Wildflower #3)

8. Delaney

CHAPTER EIGHT

delaney

I ’D EXPECTED THINGS TO feel fundamentally different after Blake and I got married, but they didn’t. And I couldn’t decide if I was grateful for that…or disappointed.

A week ago, there would have been no decision. I would have been grateful, end of story. Period. In this scenario, what could I possibly be disappointed about?

But a week ago, I’d never kissed my best friend.

A week ago, my lips had never touched his, and my body had never ached for the feel of his hands.

And a week ago, I didn’t have to try to figure out how I felt about that.

Blake, on the other hand, seemed completely unfazed by it all. I’d moved into his apartment, put his ring on my finger, and life had moved on. It was like we were still in school together, except years had passed, we were legally bound together for the next year, and the patients we were discussing were real and not case studies.

And that was fine . Great, actually. But considering the way my brain hadn’t stopped spinning since our lips had broken apart at the courthouse, I needed to set some parameters for this fake relationship. Otherwise, I was going to get too far into my head about it all.

“I think we need some ground rules,” I said as soon as we got into the car to head to the London family dinner. My stomach was already tied in knots at the prospect of spending the evening with his siblings, and the thought of having this conversation was not helping, but it needed to be done.

Blake lifted a brow as he checked behind him for any traffic. “Ground rules might have been an important conversation to have before we tied the knot.”

“Yeah, well…” I shrugged. “Before we tied the knot, I didn’t know you were going to kiss me like that.”

Blake went momentarily still before he swung one arm behind my seat and single-handedly backed out of the parking spot. Humidity flooded the car—a sweltering heat that I would have blamed on East Coast summers…except it was only spring.

I leaned forward to turn on the air-conditioning.

“Kissed you like what?” Blake asked once we were situated on the road. There was a light, teasing quality to the question that I recognized.

“Like—” I bit down on my tongue, forcing myself to filter my thoughts for once.

Like you wanted to kiss me.

Like you wanted to do more than kiss me.

Blake cleared his throat and took pity on me, not forcing me to finish my sentence.

Or maybe he realized what I was going to say and didn’t want to confirm or deny it.

Either way, my silence was for the best.

“So you want to have ground rules about what? Kissing?” he prompted, sounding suddenly serious. His eyes landed on mine for just a moment, grounding me with his sincerity, before they flicked back to the road. “I won’t do it again if you don’t want me to, Lane.”

Oh, God. And now he thought I was upset about the kiss.

Was I upset about the kiss?

It certainly would have made things easier if he hadn’t kissed me, so maybe I was upset about the circumstances surrounding the kiss. But the kiss itself?

No, I wasn’t mad about that.

I shook my head. “Not just about kissing. Ground rules about what we’re both comfortable with, I guess. When we have to fake things over the next year.”

Blake swallowed. A crease deepened between his brows before he finally asked, “Did I make you uncomfortable?”

“No,” I groaned, dropping my head into my hands to hide for a second. I was starting to wish I hadn’t brought this up, but it seemed important. Especially considering how we were going to have to spend the night trying to convince his siblings that this marriage was real. And there were four of them. Four people who knew Blake better than anyone.

“Delaney…” Blake urged softly when I still hadn’t emerged from my hiding spot in my hands.

I sighed and lifted my head. “No,” I repeated. Clearly, so he wouldn’t misunderstand. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable. I just think we should be, I don’t know, on the same page about that sort of thing.”

He nodded slowly, like the words were coming into his head at a slower pace than I was saying them. “I agree,” he concluded. “Tell me what you’re comfortable with, then.”

I shifted in my seat, for some reason taken aback he’d asked me for specifics when in reality, it was a perfectly sensible follow-up question. But it wasn’t that I was uncomfortable with anything he had done or likely would do. He had surprised me. Confused me. Shocked me to my fucking core.

“Can I hold your hand?” he prompted when I didn’t say anything, and I couldn’t help but laugh because of the sheer ridiculousness of this conversation. Blake had held my hand a number of times. Waiting for exam results. An encouraging squeeze at the end of a long shift. A steadying touch when he could sense I was about to lose my balance. But now, because of two little rings on our fingers, we were overthinking everything.

Or maybe it was just me.

When I looked over at Blake, his expression was just as serious as the last time I’d checked.

“Yes, you can hold my hand,” I answered because he seemed to be waiting.

He gave a perfunctory nod. “I want to know what you feel okay with, Lane. And I’m just starting at the bottom and working my way to the top.”

I couldn’t fault him for that or for what he was trying to do. I’d asked for it, after all. But that didn’t mean I knew what to say except for, “What’s at the top?”

I immediately regretted asking the question. Especially when Blake’s gaze momentarily met mine in the rearview mirror, and I couldn’t understand the look in them. All I knew was that it made me cross one leg over the other and clear my throat as I waited for his reply.

“Whatever you want to be at the top,” he said, his lips twitching before his gaze darted away from mine, focusing out the window instead.

I gave his arm a playful smack. “You are not being helpful.”

“I’m trying to be considerate .”

“Such a gentleman lately,” I murmured beneath my breath, and Blake rolled his eyes. But when he didn’t say anything further, I shot back, “Why don’t you tell me what you’re okay with to make this marriage believable? You’re the one who was dragged into this, and it’s your family that we’re going to see tonight.”

Blake sighed heavily.

And then, without looking away from the road, he said seven words that shocked me almost more than the kiss had. Seven words that made it feel like lava had replaced the blood flowing through my veins. Seven words that absolutely could not mean what they sounded like.

“You can do anything to me, Delaney.”

His voice was low, barely audible above the thrum of the car engine. But there was no hesitation, no consideration. I traced the angles of his handsome face while he stared straight ahead, searching for any signs that he might not be telling the whole truth. But I couldn’t find a shred of evidence that he wasn’t.

“Careful what you sign up for,” I said with a laugh for levity. “I’ll end up writing medical terms all over you again.”

But Blake just shook his head, remaining as serious as ever.

“Fine by me. And any public displays of affection that you think will help are okay with me, too,” he clarified. “Physical touch doesn’t make me feel uncomfortable, not from you.”

I nodded because that made sense.

“It doesn’t really feel weird to me, either,” I said honestly.

“Good,” he husked, and I noted how relieved he looked.

A pang of guilt hit me; I hadn’t meant to make him feel like he’d done anything wrong. Being close to Blake wasn’t strange. And it didn’t make me feel uncomfortable. In fact, it had always been the opposite. I could relax around him in ways I couldn’t with anyone else.

But being romantically close to Blake, even if just an act, was different than I was used to. And I didn’t know how to handle it.

I cleared my throat and asked, “Can you maybe just give me a warning if you’re going to kiss me like that again?”

“Wow,” he chuckled, but it was humorless. “It really bothered you. Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“No, it didn’t—” I broke off with a grumble of frustration. “I’d just appreciate a heads-up, that’s all.”

Blake frowned. “Saying ‘ I’m going to kiss you now ’ wasn’t enough of a heads-up?”

“You’re right.” He was absolutely right. He had warned me. I’d known he was going to kiss me, but that wasn’t the problem. Blake clearly wasn’t getting it, and I didn’t want to spell it out for him that the issue wasn’t the kiss; it was that it had felt real. Because maybe the reason he wasn’t getting it was that it hadn’t felt real to him . He’d probably thought it was unextraordinary. This was apparently a me problem and nothing more. “Never mind. I’m just going to…shut up.”

A dreadful silence settled over the car before Blake spoke up again.

“You, uh, sure you’re okay? I’ve never seen you so flustered before,” he commented lightly, but I heard the deeper questions in his tone.

“We’ve never done this before,” I tossed back, trying to keep my tone just as casual. But I was sure Blake noticed the way I squirmed in my seat as he pulled up to the curb outside of a brownstone I assumed was Natalie’s. “I don’t really know how to act.”

“That’s fair.” Blake put the car in park before turning in his seat, giving me his full attention for the first time since we’d started this conversation. I felt my cheeks heat as his eyes roamed my face, searching it for…something.

He seemed to find whatever it was because when he spoke next, it was businesslike. Authoritative.

“How about you follow my lead, then. Does that sound good to you?”

I nodded.

“Okay, here’s what’s going to happen.” He paused to rake his hand through his hair, and I watched it flop perfectly back into place afterward. Magical. “We’re going to go in there, say hi to everyone, ask Natalie if she needs any help, and after she says no because Natalie never lets anyone help, we’re going to go sit down. Noah will probably have some kind of sports playing on the TV. I’ll sit down on the couch, pull you onto my lap. You’ll put your arm around me. We’ll pretend to be sickly obsessed newlyweds until it’s time for dinner, where we’ll sit next to each other. I’ll scoot even closer to you than is necessary before tucking your hair behind your ear and staring longingly at you instead of remembering to eat.” His lips tipped up in amusement before he shrugged and finished with, “Before we know it, it’ll be time to leave, and we’ll say our goodbyes. Are you okay with all of that?”

A flush had worked up my neck as Blake spoke, but I couldn’t exactly say why. He wasn’t saying anything scandalous; in fact, everything he was saying was very matter-of-fact. A perfect plan, all laid out. I could appreciate that because it was how he spoke about medicine, and it put us back into a realm that my brain could make sense of. Even if the words themselves didn’t make any sense at all.

“Yes.”

It was the one word I could manage. Truly pathetic after how many words Blake had just said.

“Good.” He met my gaze with his usual intensity, but it felt stronger than normal. “Don’t worry, okay? I won’t kiss you again. And of course, I’ll only touch you if the occasion calls for it. If there’s an audience. How’s that for ground rules?”

“That sounds good,” I acknowledged, thankful I was able to say more than one syllable now that I’d recovered from his rundown. “But Blake, I wasn’t worried about the kiss. I’m committed to making this believable. And if the occasion calls for it…”

My voice trailed off, but Blake understood.

“Alright. If the occasion calls for it,” he repeated, an agreement of sorts.

And then he got out of the car, leaving me to wonder what kind of occasion that might actually be.

But I didn’t get too long to think about it because my phone rang. Looking down at the number, I froze.

“Do you need to get that?” I heard Blake ask, his car door still open.

“It’s my grandparents’ executor. I sent him our marriage license earlier this week, so…”

“So you should probably get that,” he confirmed.

Fuck .

As if I didn’t have enough to be worried about at the moment.

Grimacing, I looked down at the screen for a moment before answering the call.

“Ms. Delacroix?”

The older man sounded more panicked than I would have expected, which did not help the feeling that had settled in my gut.

“Mr. Anderson.” I tried not to audibly gulp down my nerves. “It’s actually Mrs. London now, but how may I help you?”

I glanced at Blake, who was now leaning down to look into the car, right at me. His gaze flared bright.

Was he nervous, too?

“Yes, that is…why I called. I received the copy of your marriage certificate in the mail. And while I know it is not business hours, I didn’t want to wait to reach out and verify with you.”

I nodded, aware that Blake’s eyes were glued to my movements. “Yes, we eloped earlier this week. My husband and I were just going to celebrate with his family.”

“I, um…” The sounds of shuffling paper broke through Mr. Anderson’s words. Then they stopped, and I could picture his dark brows furrowing as he stroked his salt-and-pepper mustache. “I wasn’t aware that you were intending to wed, Ms.—Mrs. London. This has just come as a surprise.”

A humorless laugh broke through my lips, and I looked outside the window, studying the traffic as it drove by in front of Natalie’s home. “Well, that is the point of an elopement, isn’t it? To be a surprise.”

“Yes, I suppose it is.”

Mr. Anderson didn’t sound entirely convinced, so I lowered my voice to add, “Blake and I have been very close for many years. And when we finally realized how we both felt, we didn’t want to waste any more time than we already had. Surely you understand.”

He cleared his throat. “Of course. Yes, of course. Congratulations on your marriage, Mrs. London.”

“Thank you.” I smiled to myself, hoping it came through in my voice. “You should know that I have not yet informed my parents but am planning to do so soon.”

“Oh, good.” His relief was palpable, even through the phone. “I’m sure they will be glad to hear it from you.”

I frowned. Was he thinking of telling them? In that case, I was glad that we’d had this call. I didn’t need a surprise from my mother tonight as well.

“Yes, I know you are often in, um, business with my parents, so I will let you know when they are aware of the elopement.”

“Perfect.” More relief. “That works perfectly. We will be in touch, then.”

I hung up the phone with a weird feeling in my stomach but struggled to place it.

Mr. Anderson didn’t give the impression that he intended not to approve our marriage in terms of the inheritance, but he didn’t seem entirely convinced, either. Or maybe he just didn’t like the idea that his approval would undoubtedly put a wrench in his working relationship with my parents since they’d oppose it—we both knew that to be true.

It was something I hadn’t quite considered until now.

“Everything good, Lane?”

I nodded, putting those thoughts away for now, and turned toward Blake, who I’d almost forgotten was there.

“I think so, yes.”

“Ready for dinner?”

Taking a deep breath, I forced a smile. “Ready.”

I was even more glad we were doing this now, pretending for his family. We needed to cover all our bases, just in case Mr. Anderson came poking around.

Natalie’s home was a brownstone apartment with bay windows that I would die for. It was small and a bit dated but had crown molding and a fireplace with books stacked on top of the mantle. The coziness made me want to curl up on the couch, and that was precisely what I did.

But with a six-foot-two, finely muscled doctor beneath me.

Everything happened as Blake predicted, and now I was sitting on his lap in his sister’s living room. A baseball game was on in the background, but no one was really paying attention to it.

The only thing I could pay attention to was the man whose lap I was on.

We were on the end of the couch, and I’d leaned back, wrapping my arm around his shoulders like he’d told me to. His arms circled around me. One was settled securely around my waist like he thought I might flee, and his free hand rested casually on my thigh. His fingers kept grazing my bare skin as he fidgeted with the hem of my dress, and I was so acutely aware of him in a way I never had been before. Every tiny shift of his body was as obvious as an earthquake with deadly magnitude.

Blake, on the other hand, was unfazed. He’d introduced me as his wife to his sister, Natalie, and his nine-year-old niece, Chloe, without batting an eye. They’d both given me hugs like we’d known each other forever, even though this was our first time meeting.

I’d heard a lot about Natalie over the years, but we’d never crossed paths before; from what Blake told me, she was an incredibly busy woman between parenting as a single mom and working as a trauma surgeon. He also said she’d been busy and overworked her entire life, starting in high school when she’d taken so many PSEO courses that she almost had her bachelor’s degree completed by the time she’d graduated.

After our introduction, Natalie had ducked back into the kitchen and shooed us toward the living room, where the infamous football player, Noah London, sat with his family. His girlfriend, Gemma, whom I recognized from the hospital, gave me the warmest greeting, and I immediately felt guilty for how I’d judged her that day. Then, Noah smiled broadly and held out his hand to shake while his other arm was preoccupied with holding the baby I’d thought was Blake’s. Her name was Delilah, and she was precious and sweet and couldn’t have been much more than a month old.

If it weren’t for Noah, I might have felt weird about sitting all wrapped up in Blake in front of his family. But Noah had immediately pulled Gemma into his side when they sat back on the couch, and he hadn’t once moved his available hand away from her. Blake’s gentle affections only matched the vibe of the room, and I was grateful for that.

It only took me a few minutes to decide I liked Noah. I couldn’t lie; for years, I’d held a slight distaste for Blake’s younger brother simply because of his reputation and how people treated Blake when they found out he had a famous athlete for a brother—like he was a stepping stone of sorts. But in real life, Noah seemed charismatic and kind and clearly devoted to his girlfriend and daughter.

He also seemed very curious about his brother’s spontaneous marriage, which in any other circumstances would have been sweet. But it only put me that much more on edge.

“You could have called me, you know,” he said, a twinkle in his eye as he glanced at his brother. I recognized that twinkle. It was the same teasing spark Blake had, except Noah seemed to have it more openly. Blake’s only appeared when we were alone. “I could have been a witness.”

Blake chuckled, and I felt the vibrations of it through my entire body, making me tingle deliciously. I bit down on my lip, trying not to react as Blake carried on like nothing had happened. Like we weren’t suddenly connected in a way we never had been before.

“You don’t need a witness in Massachusetts,” he said with a shrug.

Noah shook his head, grinning. “Sully’s still mad you’ve deprived him of a party.”

“I’m sure there will be another reason for the Londons to celebrate soon,” Blake said, his smooth voice more pointed as he looked between Noah and Gemma, who began blushing furiously at the comment.

“Very true,” Noah hummed, glancing over at his girlfriend with stars in his eyes. He wasn’t embarrassed by the comment. It actually looked like he was melting inside from the thought of it. My cheeks started to heat just from watching the two of them.

Or maybe it was from the way Blake’s hand slid across my rib cage slowly like he was trying to feel for the bones and count them to make sure I was real and alive. He dragged his hand all the way across my abdomen, skirting just below my breasts before letting his touch vanish, his hand dropping to his side.

That was for the best. The more Blake touched me, the more I worried that he would realize how my pulse ticked up. He was a doctor—a very good doctor—trained in looking for subtle differences in the body, symptoms, and signs of distress. I was exhibiting too many of those at the moment.

“How did the two of you meet?” I spit out, looking for something to say to distract from Blake, from his woody scent overwhelming me and the compelling job he was doing of making his family believe he wanted his hands on me as much as his brother wanted his hands on his girlfriend.

Gemma’s head popped up like she’d been abruptly pulled out of a trance. Noah turned his attention toward me more slowly, as if he had to be dragged away from looking at his girlfriend.

Gemma managed to answer me first. “Noah is a close friend of my brother,” she said sweetly. “Julian and Noah played football in college together, but we reconnected more recently because Chloe is one of my figure skating students,” she explained, nodding to the nine-year-old who’d just entered the room in a ball of energy, making a beeline for the baby. She walked straight up to her uncle, bent down to inspect her cousin with soft eyes before she looked up, and they widened into the perfect puppy dog plea.

“Can I hold her?”

Noah’s grin kicked to the side. “Sure, Lo. Sit next to me, okay?” She hopped onto the couch next to Noah, settling in and holding her arms out, ready for a baby deposit.

I smiled at the scene, watching Noah carefully place his daughter in Chloe’s arms, who held very still. She seemed practiced, like they’d gone through these motions before, and it was so precious that my heart felt like bursting.

Noah observed Chloe holding Delilah for a few moments before switching his attention back to me. “Yeah, these two are quite the skating stars,” he said, warmth in his tone. “Chloe actually has her first show next week.”

“I’ve always wanted to learn how to figure skate,” I admitted, smiling at Chloe, who had lifted her head, realizing we’d been talking about her. She wore a sheepish smile that told me she loved the attention but would never admit it. “It’s so fun to watch. I bet you’ll do amazing in your show, Chloe.”

“You should come!” she encouraged, her eyes alight with a glow now. “And then Gemma can teach you how to skate!”

I laughed, feeling infected by Chloe’s contagious enthusiasm. Before I could respond, Gemma chimed in.

“It’s never too late to learn, you know.”

“I’m sure Delaney would pick it up quickly,” Blake added, his breath warming the exposed skin on my shoulder. But my body responded like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over me; goose bumps pebbled where I felt him. Which was everywhere. “All the years of dance would help, right?”

“Oh, absolutely.” Gemma perked up. “What kind of dance?”

“Ballet,” Blake answered, seeming eager to share that about me. Seeming eager to play the role of a husband wanting to show his wife off. I’d never been particularly proud of my years as a dancer because it only reminded me of the things I did to make my parents happy, but in this moment, I suddenly felt differently.

“She’s a ballerina,” he added, as if it weren’t clear enough. And then he brushed his lips over my shoulder, in the exact spot I’d felt his breath a moment ago. Where goose bumps had pricked my skin. He smoothed his lips there like he was trying to get rid of them. But all he was doing was making it worse.

“I was ,” I clarified, “but I’m not anymore,” I said, trying not to sound as breathless as I felt. “And I’m sure dancing on solid, dry ground is a lot different—easier—than dancing on ice.”

I could feel Blake hovering over my shoulder. More accurately, I could still feel his lips. The ghost of them. His breath fanning over the spot he’d just kissed. A shiver worked through me, and Blake pulled me in closer. There wasn’t an inch of separation between us.

“Classical ballet training is absolutely an advantage when learning to figure skate,” Gemma said sincerely. “Let me know if you ever want to try it out.”

I smiled at Gemma, trying to focus on Blake’s sweet family and not the confusing way my body reacted to his. “I will, thank you.”

“Are you cold?” Blake whispered in my ear. Once again, I could feel his lips, but this time, he didn’t let them touch me. I couldn’t decide which was worse, having his mouth on me or wanting his mouth on me.

I shook my head, not trusting myself to look back at him.

Natalie entered the room a second later and announced it was time for dinner. Noah helped Gemma to her feet and then took Delilah from his niece. The four of them started to make their way to the dining room, but I didn’t know how to move.

“Did this make you uncomfortable?” Blake asked quietly once his family was out of earshot.

I shook my head again.

Uncomfortable and confused were not the same thing.

“You still okay with me taking the lead?” he asked, trying to get more out of me.

I nodded, twisting to look at him for the first time since we’d sat down. His dark eyes were earnest.

“You’re very good at it. You’re doing a better job than I probably would.”

Blake chuckled lowly at that. “Yeah, well…” He trailed off. “My family is affectionate. I know what they probably expect to see.”

I nodded again. That made sense.

“They like you,” he added when I was silent. “I can tell.”

“It’s nice to meet the rest of your family after so many years.”

“Yeah.” Blake’s lips lifted in a small smile. “It’s nice.”

He looked at me, and there was something different about it. But then he shifted beneath me, and I realized it probably had something to do with the fact that I was still sitting on his lap. I still had my arm around his shoulder, like I was holding him captive. So I slid to my feet with as much grace as I could muster, tugging the hem of my dress down as I started to walk after his family.

We’d only been playing this game for a matter of days, and I was already forgetting when I could stop acting. I had a feeling that might become a problem, but I couldn’t spend my time worrying about it now.

Not when I had a family dinner to perform through.