Chapter 23
Iclose Grandma’s bedroom door after a very enlightening talk with Grandma. Returning to the living room, I’m not sure Delaney will still be waiting there, or whether she’ll still be awake after being up all night. It’s been emotionally draining for all of us, but especially for Delaney.
When I see her sitting back on the cushions, I stop and watch her for a few beats, taking in her beautiful face, the dark lashes against her perfect pale skin. Then she opens her eyes and my heart stutters at her brilliant blue gaze.
“Is she okay?” The earnest caring in her voice causes another disturbance in my heart beat.
I sit with her. “Grandma is fine. She said we’ve brightened up a very sad time for her and made it bearable.” I swallow down a lump in my throat.
“Have we?”
I know what she’s asking and I finally have the sense and the balls to say, “Yes.”
Totally out of character, I stop her when she’s about to jump me with naughty intentions. holding her shoulders, I kiss her, but I keep it short and sweet.
“I have some things to say.”
“Go. And talk fast.” Her smirky-smile lights her face and I stifle a laugh.
“Grandma gave me something special and we had a long talk about it.” I take a breath and clear my throat, not knowing where to start.
“What is it?” She leans forward and squeezes my thigh, but more out of anticipation than foreplay.
I force my dick to recognize the difference and continue.
“She gave me a two-carat diamond ring—a woman’s engagement ring. She’s been waiting to give it to me at the right moment.”
Delaney scrunches her brows together. “She wants to marry you?”
I laugh, unable to stop my automatic reaction. “No. It’s a family heirloom. And there’s a story behind it.”
“Of course there is. Isn’t that the way with all family heirlooms—especially the fricking two carat diamond ones?”
I shake my head, suppressing a grin. “You’ve already won the trophy. Dial down the sarcasm while I’m trying to be serious.”
She snaps to attention, sitting prim and proper, aiming those blue laser-eyes at me and waits.
“The diamond ring belonged to my Great Uncle Link.”
“I didn’t see that coming.”
“No one did. Grandma finally told me how he died.” I take a breath because this part hurts even though I never knew the man, he’s part of me. “He was hit by a bus down town one Saturday night. He’d been all dressed up in his best suit according to Grandma. They found the ring in his pocket. He must have been on his way to a date with his love—the woman he’d apparently intended to marry.”
She clamps her hands over her mouth and I think she’s shocked for real. I certainly was when Grandma told me.
“Oh no. That’s so tragic.” She reaches out and touches my face like I need consoling. Maybe I do because the story strikes a chord.
“Grandma said they looked for the woman, tried to figure out who she was, upset that they’d never met her, that he’d kept his love a secret for who knows how long.” I shake my head, dismissing the possibilities that pop to mind in useless speculation.
“They found some love letters she’d written to him, but they were only signed with initials and the envelopes that would have had her return address were all gone.” I heave a breath and try to shake off the melancholy.
“All these years since, Grandma’s been troubled about the loss, and worried about me. I was born shortly after his death and it was unanimous that I’d be given his name. Grandma said every year I grew up to be more and more like him. Then when I was a young buck, graduating high school, I reminded her too much of her brother Link and that’s when she and your Granny got serious and started plotting their matchmaking scheme.”
“So he was a pirate too.”
I laugh. “Not sure about that. He was an accountant.”
“Those are the worst kind of pirates, wielding numbers in books where you can’t see them, as opposed to wielding big solid hockey sticks right out there in the open where you can defend yourself.”
Not missing her double-entendre, I lean in and whisper, “Do you need to defend yourself against my big solid hockey stick hot pants?”
“Always and forever. And I’m kind of looking forward to the challenge.”
“Hmmm. That sounds good—and bad.”
“Exactly. I’ll always have your back, Milano. But you’ll have to watch mine too.”
“Seems I can’t help myself from watching your back—your front too—oof.” She gives me a girl punch in the gut, and it feels kind of like foreplay the way my dick takes notice and my blood stirs and sparks.
“The ring is for real. No games. No deals. And no calling it off after Christmas.”
“Prove it.”
I slip the ring from my pocket and slip it on her finger. Then while she’s gawking at it, I lift her over my shoulder pirate style and carry her up the stairs to my childhood bedroom as we both laugh until we’re breathless.
I don’t know how the fuck I’m going to prove how real we are, but I know I’ll enjoy the hell out of trying.