18. Delaney
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
delaney
B LAKE WASN’T IN THE bed when I woke the next day, and I found myself feeling somewhat disappointed.
Actually, it was more than disappointment, but I couldn’t name the other feelings that had been plaguing me for the last twenty-four hours—since yesterday morning. It didn’t just have to do with the way we’d been smashed together on that couch or how it made my body heat from the inside out when he touched me. It also had a lot to do with the emotions I felt when he simply looked at me. It was everything about yesterday. It was the picture, the kiss, his arms curled protectively around me at the market. Everything.
I was trying really hard not to read too much into it. After all, I had initiated the kiss. I had reached for his hand in the market. I had insisted we sleep together last night. And Blake was Blake. He’d always had a thing about watching over me and keeping me safe. He’d been my silent sentry at every party and bar I’d been to for the past ten years.
But he didn’t usually touch me.
Actually, he never touched me.
And I was terrified at how much I was enjoying his switch-up.
Rolling over, I picked up my phone to check the time and found a text from Ophelia.
FI: Bryan showed me that picture of you and that guy on the plane. Is that your doctor friend??
I sighed, wishing Bryan hadn’t done that but knowing it was my fault for sending it to him.
Yeah, that’s him. Blake. We’re on a trip right now.
Ophelia responded immediately despite the fact that it must be like one in the morning for her.
FI: When did he get so hot???
My stomach coiled with irritation, and I responded before I really had a chance to think through what I was saying.
He’s always been hot, Fi.
FI: I mean, yeah. But now he’s, like, really hot.
Aren’t you married?
FI: Yes, very much married. But I have like three friends who would totally take his number. Is he single?
No, he’s definitely not single.
Not single. And he wouldn’t be for the next year, thank God.
FI: And his girl/guy/partner let you go jetsetting with him? Wow, they must be chill.
I ground my teeth together, for some reason annoyed that the obvious answer didn’t occur to her.
I am very chill, thank you very much.
FI: WHAT, since when??
FI: You started dating hot doctor guy friend without telling me? Delaney Delacroix, shame on you!
Don’t hate me, but it’s actually Delaney London.
For some reason, I found that oddly satisfying to type.
FI: SHUT. UP.
FI: LANEY
FI: OMG?? CONGRATULATIONS????
FI: Wait, is this a HONEYMOON?
Yes, and I promise I’ll call you when I get back!
With that, I put my phone down and decided to go find my husband. My very hot husband, who was very much taken and whose number I would not be giving out to Ophelia’s friends.
“What’s wrong?” Blake asked as soon as I walked out into the kitchen, and I realized that my facial expression was all twisted from the conversation with Ophelia. He stood at the kitchen counter, a spread of fruits and pastries on the cutting board beside him and a knife in one hand.
“Nothing.” I shook my head, giving him a small smile. “Just…Ophelia texted me.”
Blake furrowed his brows. “Did something happen? Everything okay with Bryan?”
“Bryan’s fine,” I assured him. “Just showing off that picture of us to people, and now Ophelia wants your number.”
“My number?” he laughed.
I glowered at him and how happy he seemed about that fact. “She wanted to know if you were still single so she could hook you up with her friends.”
Blake pressed his lips together like he was trying not to smile. “And what did you tell her?”
“That you’re not,” I said with a sniff, walking around him to get a glass of water. “Because you aren’t.”
Blake followed me with his eyes. “Did you tell her that we got married?”
“Yes,” I sighed. “Which I probably shouldn’t have because she’s bound to say something to the rest of my family, but…”
I decided to focus on drinking my water instead of finishing that sentence.
“But you wanted to stake your claim, huh?” Blake supplied for me, leaning his hip against the counter and watching me closely. His mouth cocked to the side in a smirk that made my stomach flip.
Goddamn him.
“It’s okay, Lane.” He stepped toward me, tucking a limp piece of hair behind my ear. I felt his closeness, his presence so acutely, and I just didn’t know what to do about that. “You can stake your claim on me whenever the fuck you want,” he muttered before leaning back and gesturing to the food on the counter. “I was thinking we could take a morning walk on the beach. It might be a little chilly, but if it’s nice enough, I was going to pack this to eat down there.”
“You want to take a walk on the beach?” I repeated, both distracted by the flutters his words and proximity had set off inside me and confused by what it all meant. Not to mention, surprised about Blake’s suggestion of going to the beach, considering he’d had that nightmare two nights ago.
“If you want to.” He shrugged. “And if you promise not to be upset with me when I act like a helicopter parent.”
My lips quirked. “If you wanted me to call you daddy, you could have just said so, Blake.”
Blake raised a brow, and the glint in his smokey gaze cut right through me. His smirk grew, giving him a devilish look that was so unfamiliar to my perception of this man. But fuck if it didn’t set off a buzzing sensation in my veins.
“Careful what you joke about, Delaney,” he said, his gaze searching my face, seemingly trying to figure out if I was being serious, before dropping to my mouth and lingering there. “I just might take you seriously one of these times.”
My breath caught in my throat. I licked my dry lips as I pieced out what to say, but that only made Blake’s pupils dilate and my heart pound in my chest.
Suddenly, I was wishing that I’d taken Blake up on his offer last night about the kink conversation. I’d never been curious before about what made this man’s pulse race in the bedroom, but now I couldn’t stop thinking about it. What would he be like? What was he into? These were thoughts that I absolutely should not be having about my best friend who just happened to be my husband, but curiosity had won over logic, and now I was dying to know.
“Is that so?”
He nodded and then switched the topic back again without so much as a blink of an eye.
“I think going down to the beach will be good for me. There’s no one in the water here, you know? Too cold. I won’t have to be on such high alert. Maybe I can try to just…enjoy it. Push past the other thoughts.”
His words brought me back down to Earth. This was an important conversation, one I should be giving my full concentration. Not thinking about what Blake’s sexual fantasies might be.
“I’d like for you to experience that if you think it’s possible,” I said. “But there’s absolutely no pressure if you’re not comfortable with it.”
Blake’s gaze cut to the window and the waves beyond before finding its way back to me. “I think it’s possible. If you come with me.”
“Of course I’ll come with you.”
Like hell would I leave Blake to navigate through that experience on his own.
“Thank you.” Blake stepped in and pressed a quick kiss to the top of my head before walking over to the refrigerator, opening it and pretending like it was completely normal for us to show that kind of casual affection. “Why don’t you go get dressed?” he asked over his shoulder. “I’ll finish packing things up here.”
With my heart in my throat, I nodded. And then I scurried back to the bedroom before he could see all my emotions play out on my face.
I grabbed Blake’s hand as soon as we walked out the door toward the beach, and this time, my desire to touch him had nothing to do with the weird feelings that had been creeping over me lately. This was just me wanting my best friend to know that I’d stay by his side, no matter what.
Blake gripped my hand back, reassuring me that this was exactly what he wanted or maybe needed. I let him set the pace as he directed us down the sloping sand dunes toward the open beachfront. When we got to sea level, Blake switched to my other side, putting himself between me and the water. I gave him an encouraging smile, and he slipped his hand into mine again before we kept walking.
The tide was low, exposing big stretches of sand and allowing us to walk far from where the water met the land. Blake stayed silent as we crossed the beach, his eyes shifting along the shoreline, which was mostly vacant, and then back to me every few minutes. I let that go on without interruptions for a few minutes before I asked if he wanted to talk about what he was thinking. When he declined, I let it go and simply held his hand tighter.
We strode along the beachfront for about ten minutes before Blake stopped, assessed the area, and then spread a blanket on the sand. I sat on it quickly to keep it from blowing away and pulled my sweater tighter around me. Despite the whipping wind, the late-spring sun shone bright, glinting across the water and piercing through the chill. Blake settled in next to me and immediately focused his attention on pulling out the assortments of food he’d packed. And then once that was done, he scanned the shoreline again as he took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
We sat mostly in silence, picking at the pastries and fruit. I scooted closer to Blake, feeling this instinct of needing to be near him, and as soon as I got within arm’s reach, he wrapped himself around me, hauling me into his chest. I felt his heart pounding against my back, his ragged breathing against my neck. I inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly until Blake managed to match it, his body calming against mine.
“This is what I needed,” he whispered, so soft it might have gotten lost in the wind if we weren’t so wrapped up in each other. “To hold you and see that nothing can touch you.”
“Only you,” I breathed because in this moment on the quiet coastline of the North Sea, it felt like we were the only two people in the universe.
This felt so distinctly right, so distinctly us. And I knew that if someone passed us by, they might view this as a romantic moment, but I knew better than to get any part of this confused. Blake’s soul had been damaged by that drowning, and the hurt continued to cut deeper by the way it still haunted him. And him protecting me, saving me, saving the world one patient at a time, was his way of trying to heal it—heal himself. This moment was nothing more than that.
“Maybe now when I see the waves, I can think of this instead,” he added.
“I hope you can.” I really hoped that for him. More than anything. “It wasn’t your fault, Blake,” I added gently. I’d said those words to him before, but I needed to say them again now. Needed him to know. “It wasn’t your fault that you were a teenager who wasn’t experienced in CPR.”
His breathing stuttered as his body tensed, and I hoped I didn’t push him too much. I hoped I didn’t ruin everything.
“I still think it’s important for people to know, for people to be trained in it,” he replied after a moment of silence.
“I agree, and I want to help.” I waited a beat for his breathing to even out. “But I also need you to know that you have nothing to atone for.”
Blake dropped his head to my shoulder, and I felt his slow, drawn-out nod. I remained quiet as he absorbed those words and their truth, slowly burying himself further into the crook of my neck. A full-body shudder worked through him, and I reached back to thread my fingers into his hair, needing to soothe him, needing to just…hold him. He let me, and we sat there, letting time slip away.
Blake didn’t say much else, and I didn’t push him. Eventually, he lifted his head and went back to holding me against his chest, seeming somewhat at peace. At least, I hoped he was.
I waited for his cue to pack up again, and then we walked back along the shore to the house, hand in hand once more.
“Thank you for humoring me, Lane.” He glanced back over his shoulder toward the sea, like he was making sure it had stayed in place as we turned our back on it. “I…I needed that.”
“I’m here for whatever you need, Blake,” I said with sincerity. “And you don’t ever have to thank me for humoring you .”
“ Why do you say that?” he asked with a frown.
“You agreed to marry me on a whim,” I laughed.
He scrunched his nose. “That’s not how I remember it.”
“No?”
“ I popped the question.” He stopped, his eyes glowing as warm as the sun as he looked down at me. “ You were the one who only agreed after a lot of convincing. Same thing with this honeymoon. Despite what you might think about this arrangement, you’ve been humoring me this whole time.” His lips tilted, and then he tore his gaze away and continued on up the hill while I stayed stuck, attempting to process what he’d said. “Come on, Lane,” he called when I remained paralyzed. “We’ve got a reservation I don’t want to miss.”
Propelling my body to move, I followed Blake back to the house. His words played on repeat in my head while I spent the next hour or so getting ready for our evening out in Amsterdam. We planned to take the train into the city, hit a few sights on our way to the reservation, and then see where the night took us from there.
A wild sort of anticipation grew in my chest as I considered the possibilities of what may lay ahead. I wasn’t used to possibilities. I was used to planning and executing, not living and experiencing. But I found it to be beyond exhilarating, and one look at the clothes spilling out of my suitcase and I knew which dress I’d be wearing tonight.
I wiggled into the red contraption from Ophelia’s bachelorette party that I never got to wear before assessing myself in the mirror one more time and taking a deep breath. I had no idea what would happen on the last night of this trip, but I was determined not to take the unknowns for granted.
Walking out to the living room, I stopped short at the sight of Blake. He’d showered and changed in the other bathroom, and while I assumed he’d be ready before me, I hadn’t expected him to be standing in the living room expectantly. I also hadn’t expected him to be looking so…good.
He froze when he saw me, mid-bite of an apple. His eyes darkened, watching my movements in a way that made my palms sweaty, and when I stopped in front of him, his gaze swept over me. Blatantly .
The way he stared so openly caused a surge of heat to blast through me. He took his time, making sure to appreciate every inch of my body in this red dress before he finished taking his bite of apple, lowering the fruit so I could see the way his lips tilted.
“ Fuck , Lane,” he husked.
“Did you just check me out?” I asked, the question slipping out of me from shock.
Sure, there had been some developments of sorts between me and Blake since we’d tied the knot a couple of weeks ago, but I’d never, ever experienced the look he’d just given me. Never seen him be so forward. Never thought I’d see the day where Blake London studied me with such apparent interest.
“I don’t know why you sound surprised,” he replied, lifting a single brow and taking another bite of his apple. He chewed it for a second before continuing. “I’ve already told you my thoughts about that dress.”
He wasn’t wrong, but I’d had to drag that opinion out of him.
And now, here he was just…giving it freely.
“Is this just another one of those things you can’t help because you’re just a man ?” I asked when I found my voice, trying to tease.
“No, Delaney,” Blake replied, not a single note of humor in his tone. He stepped toward me, one hand in the pocket of his trouser pants. “I can control my actions, and I work very, very hard to do just that when I’m around you. What I can’t do is control how my cock reacts to feeling you naked or hearing you moan my name. I couldn’t control that if I tried. But this?” He trailed his gaze over me again, and I barely repressed a hot shiver. “I can control that. Which also means I’ll never, ever do it again if you ask me to stop.”
My jaw all but dropped. He’d not only checked me out, but he was admitting to it. To doing it on purpose. I stared at him, the clench of his sharp jaw, the scruff of his five-o’clock shadow, the wave of his goddamn McDreamy hair. And then I trailed my gaze lower, appreciating the way his shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, exposing his chest, and the way his arms were corded with muscle, which flexed as he clenched the fist that was in his pocket.
And it was in that moment that I came to the full-blown realization that I’d been skirting around for a long, long time.
I wanted Blake London. I wanted my best friend. My husband, the man I was married to. At least for now.
But right now was all that mattered to me at the moment, and what a gift that was.
Pushing past the overwhelming desire, I strode toward Blake. He watched me closely, making it feel like a part of me was trapped in his gaze. When I was within reach, I snatched his apple out of his hand and took a bite, enjoying the way Blake’s attention zeroed in on my mouth.
I didn’t know what was happening between us, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like it. Way more than I should.
“I hear an apple a day keeps the doctor away,” I murmured, licking my lips before letting them curve into a tilted grin.
Blake’s entire body locked up for a moment before he seemed to figure out how to speak again. “If you’re trying to keep me away, you’re doing a really poor job of convincing me right now, Delaney.”
“Mm.” I took another bite. “Good.”
“You didn’t ask me to stop,” he commented, his voice strained.
“No.” I swallowed slowly. “I didn’t.”
“You like it when I look at you, Lane?” His phone dinged before I could reply, but his eyes didn’t stray from my mouth when he said, “The Uber must be almost here.”
“Let’s go, then.” I put the apple back in his open hand, which hadn’t moved since I took it from him. Then I smacked my lips and smiled.
“Grab a jacket.” Blake cleared his throat. “I don’t want you getting sick from all that…exposed skin.”
I turned to do as he said but not before catching how his eyes shimmered with something dangerous.
And I wondered if I was ready to figure out what exactly it was.