42. Chapter 42
Chapter 42
Cedric
I spend the better part of the day glancing at my watch and rereading Joe’s contract over and over.
Marcus insists there has to be something our father missed, and though I indulge him, I know better. Joe is as despicable as he is aware of his limits–though he’ll tell you they’re very few–and hasn’t put together this labyrinth of clauses by himself.
I shake my head as I read the final part again, my eyes dry from being in front of the computer screen for so long.
This legally binding document states that neither of the aforementioned parties and legitimate children of Joseph Norton Campbell the Third, Cedric Ashton Campbell and Marcus Campbell, will be able to rescind from the obligations contained in Provisions (A) to (F), including their commitment to abstain from any means of communication during their agreed upon separation as specified in sub-clause D7.
Translation: If we breach any of the clauses, we’re as good as dead.
“Come on, brother,” Marcus says, pushing the screen down until the computer is closed. “It’s time to celebrate your lady.”
The door to Delilah’s home is ajar when we get there.
I push on it lightly as I call for her, though the living room and kitchen seem empty. I’m so used to the skittering of Delilah’s corgi on the floor by now that even its absence strikes me as odd.
“Does she like pink, do you think?” Marcus whispers as he takes in the furniture.
Not bothering to reply to his sarcasm, I grab my phone from my pocket to send her a text when the door to the bedroom bursts open, Faye emerging first.
“Ah, is–good heavens,” Marcus mutters.
I glance at him, his mouth agape as Faye walks purposefully toward us clad in a brown sleeveless dress, a few shades deeper than her skin, that highlights her curves.
“Campbells,” she greets us with her arms crossed, not sparing a second glance at Marcus, though his light eyes are still trained on her.
I’m about to ask her whether Delilah is alright, but I shouldn’t have fretted. Her strawberry blond hair pops out of the bedroom as she closes the door behind her. She smiles brightly at me, and when I realize she’s wearing the dress we bought together, my lips curve into a matching smile of their own volition. I’d be lying if I didn’t say my insides don’t feel like they’re rearranging themselves at how beautiful she looks.
“Hi,” she says, somewhat shily, the waves of her hair falling delicately on her shoulders. “Are you–”
For once, uncaring of having spectators, I pick her up, eliciting a small yelp out of her even as her arms wrap around my neck. “You look exquisite,” I whisper in her ear.
She draws back to look at me, mouthing a thank you.
Marcus clears his throat loudly . “I’d say get a room, but that room is so close it defeats the purpose of the joke,” he chuckles, and I set Delilah down.
“I’m glad you could be here, Marcus,” Delilah says warmly. “This is my best friend Faye, by the way.”
“Oh, I know,” Marcus says, winking at Faye. “We’ve met.”
Faye gives him a bored look, the unimpressed curve of her mouth saying their meeting might not have been as pleasant as Marcus made it out to be. I could opt to strangle him if he didn’t have that vampire strength. Not that he usually bothers to use it, anyway.
Delilah gives Faye a different, wide-eyed kind of look, and they seem to communicate telepathically for a moment.
“Are we the first to arrive?” I ask to break the silence.
“Some of the others are in the back,” Delilah replies, placing a hand on my arm. “Shall we?”
Delilah
Cedric steps into the backyard, fingers wrapped tightly around mine.
Derek and Caleb interrupt their animated chatting to greet him, giving me a conspiratorial look. Izzy comes over, offering to pour him a drink even as Cedric politely declines. Faye snatches the bottle from her little sister’s hands before realizing it was apple juice, and I barely stifle a laugh.
It shouldn’t be surprising, exactly, that in such a short time, and even though Cedric can be gruff and standoffish, everyone has taken a liking to him–excluding Ronnie, it seems, but I’m sure that with more time he’d come to like Cedric too.
“Your friends are pleasant,” he says quietly as I sip onto my Pinkjito (trademark pending).
“Look at you, dashing compliments left and right,” I say with a grin. He shakes his head, eyeing the plate of lemon cakes as a diversion.
“It depends on the subject,” he says with a pointed look at me. Before he can pick one of the tarty desserts up, Faye’s hands sneak to take the whole plate away.
“Don’t even think about it,” she threatens and walks off as I burst into laughter.
I look up at Cedric, and although his handsome features threaten to steal my words away, still, there’s something off about his expression.
“Are you okay?”
“Of course,” he says, though his drawn together brows tell a different story.
“I know this isn’t some fancy London party.”
“I would hate a fancy London party,” he counters. “I am exactly where I want to be.”
He presses a kiss to the top of my head, and I close my eyes against the feeling. I spend some time with all my friends, catching up on their lives, given I’ve been preoccupied with one person for the better part of the past weeks, but it’s no use. I’m pulled to Cedric constantly, his presence a beacon of light, whether he realizes it or not. Even when I’m surrounded by people I care about, I can’t help but wish it was me and him. And I can’t imagine this feeling going away, even when he will.
“The people are getting restless,” Faye muses as she comes to stand next to me. “You should go grab the cake.”
I nod, heading back inside. “Can you help with the plates?”
“I’m sure Cedric’s brother can help,” she says, walking up to him, effectively interrupting whatever Marcus and Darla might have been talking about and pulling him toward us.
“If you wanted some alone time with me, all you had to do was ask,” he says to Faye.
“Delilah needs help bringing the plates outside,” she replies, ignoring entirely what he said. I shoot Faye a curious look as Marcus says, “After you.”
“Just so you know,” I say as we get back inside and find Blaine chewing on his blanket, “Faye is not the easiest person to impress.”
“Oh, I’ve noticed. But she’s never met anyone like me.”
I laugh again, surprised at both his gall and how different he sounds from Cedric. Though I’m still wondering why Faye didn't tell me they’d met, however briefly.
“Well, then, I’m sorry there won’t be time for you to charm her,” I say, and I mean it. After all, he’ll be leaving with Cedric.
Marcus gives me a puzzled look, then his expression quickly clears as he mumbles, “Right.”
I consider what that was about as I point to where he can find the plates, and I open the fridge to get the cake out. The strawberries glisten deliciously at its top, the white frosting in perfect shape. Once we’ve secured everything we need, I carefully walk to the back door, gripping onto the plate as I use my hip to nudge the door open without dropping my precious creation .
Though when I look up again, the backyard has completely transformed.
And Cedric is standing in the middle of it.
Mouth agape, I’m faintly aware of Faye’s warm fingertips prying the cake from my hands. I take in the lit up fairy lights strung from tree to tree, the tables with the food and beverages Faye and I had put up pushed to the sides of my small garden, my friends standing there with barely-restrained looks of excitement.
“What’s happening?” I ask, my gaze finding Cedric’s. He’s taken his blazer off, the light beige shirt he’s wearing hugging his chest and arms perfectly. He swallows as he walks closer to me, and that’s when I notice he’s holding a microphone.
Is this another too-vivid dream?
“I told you your gift was non-refundable,” he says with a small shrug.
“Are you–are you going to–? But you said–”
“I said I’d sing for you when you least expected it. Now, take a seat,” he says, gesturing to the armchair I recognize from Faye’s living room. I shake my head as I arrange myself on the seat, a smile creeping on my face. This feels surreal. And I can grow claws and a snout.
I sense some movement behind me, and Cedric nods before his quiet voice, amplified by the microphone, says, “Happy Birthday, Delilah.”
A melody I’m not entirely familiar with starts to play from a guitar, and when I turn to my left, Darla is perched on a stool, plucking at the chords. Derek joins in a few seconds later, a violin resting between his chin and shoulder. Amazed, my head swivels back to Cedric, and when he starts singing, his eyes intense and darker than the night sky, I could swear my heart forgets how to beat .
His voice is rich, deep, mind-bendingly in tune, and most of all, I know he is doing this for me and me only. There might as well be a thousand people in this backyard; I’d still only pay attention to him.
The song is lovely, and I can already feel emotion crawling up my throat. I try to focus on the lyrics, disbelieving that Cedric is saying these incredibly sweet, deeply romantic things to me–things I’d never thought I’d hear. Being vulnerable in a way that must be excruciatingly difficult, and he’s doing it for the simple pleasure of making me happy.
He shifts closer, offering me his free hand as the music sweetly wraps up and he sings, “My girl.”
Applause explodes among my guests as I rise and take Cedric’s hand and pull him impossibly closer, his strong arms enveloping me.
“Thank you,” I whisper, batting damp eyelashes in his neck. “You’re crazy.”
He draws back to look me in the eye, something both heavy and awed in his gaze.
“I can’t help but think you have severely underestimated the lengths I would go to put a smile on your face.”
“Yeah, I probably have,” I say with a laugh. His eyes search mine for a second before he says, “Delilah, I wanted to talk to you about some–”
“Alright, Patrick Verona, you’ve hogged the birthday girl enough,” Derek says as his partner pulls me away from Cedric. I shoot him an apologetic look as the magic of what he’s just done is momentarily broken, but we’ll still have later to talk.
As my friends chat around me enthusiastically, and I’m still reeling from the warm sound of Cedric’s voice, I realize my mind is made up.
I’ll tell him the truth tonight.