Chapter 12
Twelve
Delaney,
You're falling for me? Christ, that's either the best or worst news I've gotten in months.
I can't decide which.
Working in your bookshop yesterday did something to me.
Watching you in your element, seeing how you know exactly what every customer needs before they do, observing the way you handle the book club's romance novel addiction with such gentle patience.
I got a glimpse of who you are when you're not trying to fix broken hockey players.
You're magnificent, you know that? Not just beautiful, though you are, especially when you're explaining why someone should try paranormal romance with the same intensity most people reserve for discussing world peace.
You're passionate and smart, and you see good in everything, even cynical athletes who've forgotten how to hope.
This town doesn't deserve you.
When I shelved Lily's favorite romance series and you didn't make a big deal about it, just squeezed my shoulder and moved on…
that meant something. You're not trying to replace her memory or compete with her ghost. You're just making space for all of it: the grief, the healing, the terrifying possibility of something new.
I know things were weird when you came upstairs, but I'm having a hard time acknowledging what's happening here.
I can't promise I'm ready for whatever this is between us. But I'm trying, Delaney. For the first time since July, I'm actually trying to believe in tomorrow instead of just surviving today.
That has to count for something.
Mac
P.S. - Your romance book club ladies are terrifying. Three different women asked if I have any single teammates. I may have promised to introduce Maya to Jake Morrison just to get them off my back.
Mac
The diner buzzes with more energy than usual when I walk in on Tuesday morning, and I immediately know something's up. Martha, behind the counter, gives me a look that's half sympathy, half excitement, which never bodes well in a town this size.
"Morning, Mac," she says, sliding my usual black coffee across the counter. "Heard Brad Whitmore's back in town for Thanksgiving. You know Brad, right? Delaney's ex-fiancé?"
Ex-fiancé? That's news to me.
"Can't say I do." I keep my voice neutral, but something uncomfortable twists in my chest. Delaney's never mentioned being engaged.
"Oh, you'll meet him soon enough. His family owns the hardware store up the block.
" Martha's eyes gleam with the particular malice of a small-town gossip who's about to drop a bomb.
"He left town right after college graduation.
Said Millbrook Falls was too small for his big dreams. It broke poor Delaney's heart when he called off their engagement to take some fancy investment job in New York.
She followed him to college and everything, just for him to ditch her at the first chance he got. "
The uncomfortable feeling sharpens into something that feels dangerously close to anger. I hate how easily she's managed to pull the reaction she wanted from me.
I shouldn't have any reaction at all. I have no business feeling this way over a woman who should hold no significance in my life. Not if I'm trying to win this bet.
Which I am, right?
Because if I’m no longer trying to win, that would mean I’ve already lost. And if I’ve already lost, then the bet is over, and my time with her goes out the window right along with it.
I’m not ready to address the way that makes my chest tighten.
Still, I find myself asking through my teeth, "When was this?"
"Three years ago. Right around when her grandmother got sick." Martha leans closer conspiratorially. "Between you and me, we're all Team Mac in whatever's happening with you two. Brad never deserved our girl. But he sure as hell tries to convince her that he does."
I'm still processing this information when the bell chimes and a guy in an expensive coat walks in, all confident smiles and city polish. Even before Martha's face sours, I know this is Brad.
“Speak of the devil,” she whispers through a grin, then turns back toward the kitchen.
He spots me immediately, and his smile gets wider. "You must be the famous Mac Sullivan. I'm Brad Whitmore." He extends a hand like we're old friends. Like, his name is something that matters. "Heard you've been keeping my Delaney company."
My Delaney.
His Delaney, my ass.
I shake his hand just hard enough to make a point. "Just Mac. And I wasn't aware she was anyone's."
"Oh, we're just good friends now." He waves a dismissive hand between us.
His laugh is practiced, the kind that means he's used to getting his way.
"Actually, I was hoping to catch up with her today.
Maybe you could join us? I'd love to hear about this little romance experiment everyone's talking about. "
The way he says "little" sets my teeth on edge. "Romance experiment?"
He nudges my shoulder with his fist. "Come on, man.
We both know Delaney lives in a fantasy world.
Always has. All those books have her thinking real life works like fairytales.
I've just been waiting for her to come back down to reality.
" He pauses, motioning for Martha to come take his order.
When she shuffles over, he requests some complicated coffee drink that makes her roll her eyes.
Once she's gone, he twists to face me. "My money's on you winning. "
Before I can respond, the bell chimes again, and Delaney walks in with too-perfect timing, her thick sweater pulled tight and cheeks flushed from the cold. She stops dead when she sees Brad, and I watch her carefully compose her expression into polite friendliness.
"Brad,” she greets tightly, stopping right between us. “I heard you were in town."
"Del." He opens his arms like he expects a hug.
When she gives him a brief, awkward one, I have to grip my coffee cup to keep from intervening.
He pulls back and allows his eyes to openly peruse her body, taking in the well-worn dress and dirty Converse she's wearing.
"You look amazing, as always. Small town life suits you. "
The condescension in his tone makes my jaw clench.
"Thanks." Delaney glances at me, and I see something like relief in her eyes. "I see you've met Mac."
"I have, indeed. We were just discussing your bet." Brad's smile turns predatory. "I was telling Mac here that I'm betting on him."
The color drains from Delaney's face, and I'm done pretending to be civil. I've figured out why this guy's mere presence grates on my nerves so badly. Brad is a carbon copy of Paul, Lily's piece of shit ex.
Makes sense, they both ended up with losers who took advantage of their kindness.
"Actually," I say, standing to my full height and moving closer to Delaney, staking my claim. "I was just thinking how lucky this town is to have someone who believes in good things. Takes real strength to stay optimistic when the world keeps disappointing you."
Brad's smile falters slightly. "Well, some of us prefer staying rooted in reality."
"Reality… like leaving her in the dust to run off to wherever-the-fuck you're from?" The words are out before I can stop them. I don't know the details of their breakup, but the way Delaney flinched tells me I'm on the right track.
It doesn't take a rocket scientist to put it together. She's set to marry the rich asshole so long as she stays under his thumb. Grandmother gets sick, and she takes over the family business. Rich asshole get jealous and leaves her in the dust, and she's left to pick up the broken pieces.
Big thanks to Martha for filling me in.
"Mac." Delaney's voice is quiet, warning.
But Brad's face has hardened, showing his true colors. "Not sure what she's told you, but I gave Delaney opportunities. New York, networking, a real future. She chose to stay here and play house with dusty books instead."
"Yeah, what a terrible choice," I say, letting sarcasm drip from every word. Delaney wilts beside me at his insult. "Staying somewhere she's loved and appreciated instead of following someone who clearly didn't value her enough to stick around when things got tough."
Brad's cheeks flush, and he finally drops that shit-eating grin he's been wearing since he walked in here. "You don't know what you're talking about, man."
"I know enough." I step closer, using my height advantage.
I've fought guys twice his size on skates.
He's probably never even thrown a practice punch.
"I know she's building something meaningful here.
I know this town would move mountains for her.
And I know that if you actually cared about her happiness, you'd see how incredible what she's doing is instead of trying to make her feel small for choosing love over your twisted version of ambition. "
The diner has gone dead silent. Even Martha has stopped pretending to work.
Brad looks between us, clearly recalculating. "Right. Well, this has been enlightening." He turns to Delaney with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "Del, maybe we can catch up later. Without the bodyguard."
He doesn't even bother waiting for her reply before he storms out the glass door.
After he leaves, Delaney slumps against the counter. "That was..."
"Overdue?" I suggest.
She laughs, but it sounds shaky. "He's not usually that much of an ass. You bring out people's territorial instincts."
I consider her. I want to tell her not to make excuses for him. I want to tell her she deserves way better than the way he just treated her. Way better than me. Instead, I ask, "Do I bring out yours?"
The question hangs between us, loaded with meaning neither of us is ready to unpack.
Lily hated it when I argued with Paul. He couldn't stand being called out for being a douche, and I couldn't miss an opportunity to do it. But I don't have the right to do that for Delaney, do I? Not if I claim not to care about her.
She meets my gaze, and the air practically crackles.
"Maybe," she admits quietly.
Martha clears her throat loudly. "Well, that was better than cable. Betty owes me five dollars."
"You bet on that interaction?" Delaney asks, her voice rising an octave like it always does when she's shocked.
I don't know how Martha's admission came as any surprise, though. Everyone in this town is conspiring against us.
"Honey, we've got betting pools on everything now. The newest was whether Brad would show his true colors within twenty-four hours of being back." Martha grins. "I had money on Brad being a jackass by morning. Easy win."
I shake my head, but I'm almost smiling. "This town is insane."
"Insanely invested in your love life," Martha corrects. "Speaking of which, what are you doing for Thanksgiving, Mac? Because Delaney's mother has been asking–"
Delaney's eyes widen in panic. "Mom has not been asking," she rushes to correct.
"She has too. Called this morning, wondering if your 'boyfriend' had somewhere to go for the holiday. It’s only two days away. Seems a shame for him to spend it alone at that cabin when you've got that big family dinner planned."
The truth is, I hadn't thought about Thanksgiving at all. Didn’t even realize it was this week. The holidays have been this distant thing, impossible to face since Lily died. We were supposed to spend this one celebrating her marriage. Now we're spending it without her.
I suppose that's why Mom's been blowing up my phone this week.
"Mac doesn't have to–" Delaney starts.
"Actually," I interrupt, surprising myself, "I don't have plans. If your family wouldn't mind having me..."
I'd rather sit through an awkward dinner with a family I don't know than endure the tense silence between my mom and her husband over takeout.
Delaney's face lights up, and something warm unfurls in my chest. "Really? You want to come?"
I shrug. "Someone should make sure Brad keeps his hands to himself if he's going to be there."
She laughs, the real laugh that makes her whole face glow. "He won't be there. His family usually does their own thing. It should just be my family, which is still... a lot."
"I can handle a lot."
"Famous last words," Martha mutters.