Attached At Heart (Wildflower #3)

16. Delaney

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

delaney

I WOKE WITH A jolt and flung the covers off. My pulse raced as I looked around, taking in my dark, unfamiliar surroundings. Salt air clung to my lungs as I gasped for a breath. Sweat tickled the back of my neck, probably from the heavy comforter I’d been cocooned in. My heart was pounding, but I wasn’t sure why. I registered the shape of the window, the moonlight streaming through it, saw the shadowed stretch of beach, heard the lull of the sea.

Honeymoon. I was on a honeymoon. In the Netherlands. With?—

A shout from the other room had me springing to my feet. That was the sound. That was the sound that woke me up.

And I knew who it was.

“Blake.”

His name burned with worry on the way up my throat, and I shot out of the bedroom to find him. He must be on the couch, but why was he on the couch? I was supposed to sleep on the couch tonight. Wasn’t I? Right after we watched— oh .

The credits of The Lizzie McGuire Movie were rolling on the TV screen in the living room. I didn’t remember watching it. Confusion seeped through me, but I didn’t have time to dissect it. Not when Blake came into view, his body flinching at an invisible attacker, his face screwed up with desperation.

Oh, no, no, no.

“Blake,” I breathed, a soft coo as I rushed over to him and reached out to touch his face, wanting to soothe the pain there. The scruff of his five-o’clock shadow bristled against my palm as he panted, eyes squeezed shut. His bare chest rose and fell in quick, rapid breaths, close to hyperventilation. “ Blake , it’s okay.”

My touch didn’t rouse him from whatever nightmare he was battling, so I lay down beside him on the couch, squeezing myself onto the cushions so I could fit against his body. So I could wrap my arms around him and bring him back to reality with a little shake.

“It’s a dream.” I said the words into the crook of his neck, hoping they would find their way into his ear. “Wake up, okay?”

“Delaney,” he choked—the first audible word I’d heard from him, and I hoped it meant that he was waking. But then he said my name again, and this time, it ripped from his throat in a cry.

“I’m right here,” I said, speaking more forcefully, trying to get through to him. I pulled back to look at his face, and it was in that moment that his eyes flicked open. He went still, deadly still in a way that terrified me beyond anything I’d experienced before. His pupils were dilated, dark, and distressed. They darted around my face, and I watched as the pieces flew back together, as his brain returned to reality.

“I’m right here,” I repeated before I continued to chant a mantra of things that I thought might help. That I thought might get through to him. “We’re on land. No one’s hurt. You’re okay. Everyone’s safe. I’m right here, Blake.”

“You’re here,” he echoed, his lips seeming to move in slow motion. “You’re safe.”

I nodded and wrapped my arms around his neck, tucking my head in to hug him. Hold him. And in an instant, he decompressed with a shuddering exhale.

“ Fuck , Lane,” he rasped. He buried his head in my neck, breathing me in. “It was you.” I felt his lips brush against where my pulse was hammering. “It was you this time.” His tongue lashed out, flicking my skin like he needed to taste my heartbeat to know that it was real, and I couldn’t withhold a gasp.

“Everything is okay,” I said, but my voice was no longer steady. It shook with emotion I couldn’t name.

“Thank fuck,” Blake groaned, exploring the column of my throat with his lips. “Lane. Delaney.”

My head spun. “Yes?”

“Don’t you dare get in that fucking ocean,” he growled into the hollow at the base of my neck. Then he nipped at my collarbone, and a shiver erupted up my body. Blake didn’t notice. He was too busy dragging his open mouth back up to my ear, pressing hot kisses into my skin. I felt like I was being branded by his desperation. “Do you understand me? I don’t want you fucking near it.”

“I understand,” I whispered, even though I didn’t. I didn’t fully understand what had happened to him, and I really didn’t understand what was happening to me.

My body didn’t feel like it was mine anymore. It felt like part of it belonged to Blake and the way he was clutching me, touching me. Part of it ached with whatever he was going through. Felt untamed like the desperation I heard in his voice, like I had so much unexplained emotion coursing through me that I might burst at any moment. And I knew that if he started dragging his lips down my body again, I wouldn’t stop him. I didn’t want to, even if I probably should, considering he wasn’t thinking clearly.

“It was you,” he breathed again. This time, I felt his nose graze my skin, following that same trail along my neck. “I wasn’t able to save you , Lane.”

My heart cracked at the agony in his voice. The final pieces of the puzzle snapped together, and I closed my eyes, gripping Blake harder.

“I’m safe,” I assured him while trying to ground myself. He was spiraling, and I wanted to be his anchor. But I didn’t feel like I could find the floor to stand on at the moment. “You saved me. You always save me, Blake.”

He took a deep, quivering breath before letting himself sink into my embrace. His body relaxed, gave in to the reality of this moment. That everything was okay. That I was here, and so was he.

“Please don’t leave.”

It was his final request before he sighed and his breathing evened out.

“I won’t,” I promised.

Leaving Blake was not something I ever imagined doing, and I longed to tell him just that.

Never, Blake.

He’d been the one who’d left me. Didn’t he remember that? When he’d moved across the country without me?

And then, I’d followed.

So, no, I wasn’t going anywhere.

“Sleep,” I encouraged. “I’ll stay.”

Blake fell silent, and I wondered if his subconscious had already dragged him back under.

I hoped it was nice to him.

But since there were no guarantees of that, I fought to stay awake for as long as possible, ready to pull him out of that ocean he fought so hard against. I made it until a pinkish light filled the room before my eyes drifted shut, and I splashed down into my own dreams—ones that I hoped one day I’d understand.

The next time I woke, my senses rolled over me like fog on a dewy morning—nothing like how I’d jolted into awareness last night.

My heart thudded, growing from faint to steady. Light crept into my vision. I felt warm, a flush rising up my body. But then, at the same time…cold. A shiver abruptly ran down my spine.

I frowned at the sensation of air. Just air. There was nothing on me. Not a blanket.

Not even…a towel.

I gasped.

I was naked.

Naked.

Oh my God, I was naked.

My eyes flew open as the muskiness of man filled my surroundings. The smell of salt air and woody vanilla lingered. Chocolate-brown hair filled my vision. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I registered the feeling of a hand on my bare back, muscular arms wrapped around me. Blake . Blake was clutching me to him. His deep breaths caused the rise and fall of his chest. His bare chest. His bare chest that brushed against my bare chest.

Oh my God, I wasn’t just naked. I was naked in Blake’s arms. Squished together on a couch.

Before my brain could run with that information, snapshots of last night replayed across my vision. Blake’s nightmare, the way he screamed my name, how his lips had felt on my skin. And now, we were still intertwined. More intertwined. My fingers were buried in his hair at the base of his neck. Our legs twisted around each other. His ankles trapped mine. Our bodies flush.

Fuck .

I attempted to toggle my foot out between his, but he shifted at the movement.

Double fuck.

My heartbeat tripled, realizing that Blake was seconds from waking and finding me in his arms, unclothed. It was either wait and let that happen or make a break for it.

I chose the second one.

I yanked my foot free and began to roll toward the edge of the couch, only to be flattened back against his chest as his arm tightened around me.

“You said you wouldn’t leave,” he mumbled in a sleep-coated voice. “Where’s my wife going?”

Considering the state he was in before he fell asleep last night, I was surprised he even remembered me saying that.

“It’s morning,” I whispered.

“So?”

“Blake.” His name came out like a plea.

“Fine,” he grunted in my ear.

Giving in, his hold on me loosened. His fingers drifted over my bare back, retreating so I could presumably escape. But then he stilled. His breathing shifted. Quickened. Blake’s chest rose, grazing mine. I could identify the exact moment when he felt my hardening nipples—when he realized I wasn’t wearing anything.

“Blake,” I repeated weakly.

“You’re…you’re not—” he stuttered and then broke off. “Delaney, you’re not?—”

He couldn’t seem to get the words out.

“The towel,” I tried to explain. “I fell asleep in the towel. And then I ran out here in the towel. And then I think the towel must have…fallen off.”

“Fallen off?” Blake repeated like he couldn’t conjure any words beyond the ones that were already said.

“Fallen off.”

This should be the moment that I jumped off the couch. Ran away. Disentangled myself from Blake’s body so that we didn’t have to do whatever dance we were doing right now. It felt like we were in a supported pirouette, where I was spinning round and round in circles, and Blake was just…holding me. Unmoving.

“I suppose…” He stopped to clear his throat. “I suppose this is why you were trying to leave, huh?”

I nodded, remaining still.

I didn’t move, but I suddenly felt…closer to him.

Did Blake’s arm tighten on me again?

That didn’t make sense.

Nor did how I unlaced my hands from behind his neck, sliding them down his chest. I mean, it would have made sense if I’d done it to push him away. But my hands stayed there, fingers drumming on his collarbone, feeling the way his breathing changed.

“Hey, Lane?”

His breath tickled the curve of my ear, and I wasn’t sure why, but it made my head spin. I felt like I was stuck in a never-ending turn sequence.

“Yeah?”

“Do you still get the money if I die after you’ve married me?”

My lungs deflated. Punctured. Were no longer operational.

“Why the hell would you ask me something like that?” I choked.

He groaned. “Because I swear to God, you’re trying to kill me on this trip.”

“This trip was your idea, Blake.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t know it would be like this.”

My breath hitched. “Like what?” I asked, even though I knew what he meant. Something had shifted in the last forty-eight hours. Something about the way we were together. And even though we kept trying to avoid it, I wasn’t sure it would be possible.

“Like…” His attempt at an answer descended into a groan that sounded an awful lot like mortification. And I understood a second later, gasping when I felt him. Really felt him. Hard. Against me.

“Just a man,” he muttered as a reminder. “I’m sorry, but I’m just a man, Delaney.”

“Right,” I breathed, unable to move. I knew I should disentangle myself from him. I knew I shouldn’t be feeling him this way. But at the same time, all I wanted to do was explore whatever was blooming inside me, caused by having Blake so close to me. So I remained immobile, stuck between what I should do and what I wanted to do, unable to do either. “It’s just…biology. Chemistry. Sciencey things.”

“Says the medical doctor.” His husky chuckle in my ear was not helping my situation.

“Shut up. I’m a cardiologist. Not a…” My eyes rolled back as Blake tried to adjust his position on the couch and ended up brushing his length directly between my legs.

“Sexologist?” Blake offered.

“Sure. That.” I released a shuddering breath. “I just know hearts.”

“Hearts, hm?” Blake said absently. His fingers were dancing on my back, and I was finding it hard to think. “And what’s my heart doing right now, Delaney?”

I closed my eyes, tuning in to the rhythm in his chest. “It’s beating…it’s beating fast.”

“Good.” He sounded genuinely relieved. “Wasn’t sure if I was still alive or not.”

I wiggled my hips, shamelessly wanting to feel him again. And oh, did I. Holy shit. How had I gone so many years without realizing that Blake was so…so…

“Delaney?” Blake prompted, like he knew I’d short-circuited inside. “Are you okay?”

A great question, honestly.

“I’m okay,” I squeaked out. “I was just going to say that I think you’re, uh, very alive.”

Blake laughed, and I felt it in every nerve ending in my body. “You know how you know that?”

Yes. Yes, as a matter of fact, I did know how I knew that. Because his giant?—

“Because your tits are pressed right up against my chest, Lane.”

Oh, yeah. That, too.

I suppose we were experiencing new things about the other person. And I suppose this was my reminder that I shouldn’t still be lying here next to him. I should definitely have put an end to this long before this moment.

“Right, I should…move.”

I felt Blake nod. “Probably for the best.”

But even as he agreed, his arms pulled me closer, hugged me tighter. Like he wanted one last taste of what…this would be like. Whatever this was. He flexed his body toward me, chasing one last feel of me. And then I couldn’t help but do the same. I melted into his hard frame, in awe of the desire it sparked in me.

What was going on?

“Tulips,” Blake said abruptly, nearly shouting the word into my ear. “Tulips. We’re here to see tulips.”

“Right, that was our plan today.” I gulped, pushing down the full-blown arousal that was now coursing through me. “Can you close your eyes?”

“Of course,” he rasped.

His arms finally released me, and I pulled my head back to verify that his eyes were closed before stumbling off the couch. I averted my eyes, too, even though I wanted to sneak a peek back at him. Instead, I focused on snatching the towel off the ground.

“Delaney?” Blake’s voice sounded pained.

“Just let me put my towel back on, one sec,” I said breathlessly, unsure I was ready for whatever it was he was about to say. “Okay.”

“I wanted to apologize for last night,” he said hoarsely, and once I had my towel wrapped around me, I turned back around to see him sitting on the edge of the couch. He was leaning forward, bracing his elbows on both of his knees. His hair flopped messily over his forehead, and he peeked at me from beneath the hanging strands, checking to see if I was covered yet. And then when he realized I was, deep brown eyes pierced me, making it hard to function.

“You don’t need to apologize, Blake.”

“I…” He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

“I didn’t realize you were still getting nightmares,” I said quietly when he never continued his thought.

“I hadn’t been.” He shrugged. “Not for a long time. When I moved to Boston, I had a couple. And here…” He glanced toward the window. “I think it’s just being so close to the sea.”

“We can relocate,” I offered without thinking. “We can find a hotel in Amsterdam. Further inland.”

He shook his head. “I don’t want to do that.”

“Are you?—”

“I’m sure.”

“I’d like to sleep next to you tonight.” I tugged my towel tighter around me. “Wearing clothes, of course.”

I smiled, forced a laugh, tried to make this thing, whatever it was that had just happened, a joke.

But Blake didn’t laugh. And he didn’t smile. He closed his eyes at my words, swallowed hard, and then opened them again.

“Of course.”