Chapter 23
TWENTY-THREE
Jagger
Silence has descended, so I finally dare to sneak out of my bedroom and tiptoe down the stairs. I try not to make a noise, cursing these damn old floorboards that groan as I go.
The smells of her satisfaction and the lingering effects of an amazing night cause a lump to form in my throat.
Delilah’s asleep, naked in front of the fire with Nash and Tae on either side of her, a blanket draped over the three of them.
My chest tightens. They look so good together. So complete. So much better without me.
Tae snores in his sleep. He can sleep through pretty much anything, but Nash twitches, carefully repositioning to look at me.
Nash usually likes to keep busy. He never sleeps in or wastes any time, but right now, he looks like he never wants to move again.
When he sees the obvious anguish on my face, his smile fades.
“Jag—”
I raise a finger to my lips and hold up my keys. “I’m going to get some food for when she wakes up.”
“But—”
I ignore him, eager to spare myself from another security lecture. Luckily, Nash is trapped under Delilah, so there’s nothing he can do to stop me.
When I slip into the driver’s seat of the car, my cell vibrates in my pocket.
I ignore it, just like I did the other fifty missed calls from Valerie.
No doubt she’s heard about me running offstage, but all that’s important to me right now is Delilah.
The least I can do is make sure she has a decent breakfast. I bash my fist on the wheel, realizing I have no clue what she likes.
Who can possibly help me? I don’t have anyone to ask about omegas.
Sure, my mom is an omega, but we don’t exactly have a great relationship.
We occasionally see each other on the red carpet, but it’s all for publicity.
She and Dad are too busy traveling around the world while she shoots movie after movie.
Mom has enjoyed living under the spotlight and was the one who pushed me to do the same.
Sometimes I wonder whether she only had a child so she could show me off as a trophy.
That’s when a crazy idea comes to me.
I hit dial before I get too chickenshit and change my mind. I’m pretty sure I’ll be the last person he wants to speak to right now—especially after his mate made her feelings about me very clear—but I have nothing to lose.
“Calder Soren,” he answers after two rings in a clipped voice. “Who is this?”
I forgot that I always call on a blocked number.
“Uh… Hi…” Maybe this was a stupid idea. “It’s Jagger. Jagger Knight.”
“Jagger?!” I hear a crash somewhere in the background. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you, especially after what happened tonight.”
“Yeah, running out on my show probably did attract some attention.”
“You haven’t heard?” Calder’s voice turns sharp. “Or gone online?”
“I’ve kinda been a little busy. And I try to avoid social media.”
“It’s you and Delilah,” Calder explains.
“Someone posted a photo of you, and it’s gone viral.
Everyone wants to track down your mystery girl.
Thankfully, they didn’t get a good shot of her face.
Kady’s pulling in every favor with her father to make sure any paps with more photos hand them over to keep Delilah’s identity protected.
We’re both at The Valley Voice office doing damage control now. ”
“Fuck.” I brush a hand down my face. This is exactly what I was hoping to avoid. “What can I do to help?”
“We’ve got a handle on it,” Calder tells me. “When Kady’s on a mission, she’s pretty set on how she wants stuff done.”
“This is my mess,” I groan. “I should be the one to clean it up. I can put you in touch with my manager to help? And I can pay you for your time.”
“We’re doing this for Delilah.” His voice is firm. “But having their number wouldn’t hurt.”
“I’ll send it over right after this call.” My head is now reeling.
“So if that isn’t the reason why you’re calling,” Calder clears his throat, “what is?”
“Right, yeah…” Knowing that he’s been working all night to try to fix my mess, I feel like an even bigger asshole for ringing. “I was actually calling because I thought you may be able to give me some advice.”
“Advice?” He sounds intrigued. “What can I help you with?”
“Delilah’s at our place right now, which I’m sure Kady already told you. She’s safe, and well…” I search for the best way to phrase this. “She had a heat spike, and I—”
“A heat spike?” I hear Kady shriek, making it clear that I’m on speakerphone. “Give that to me!” A few seconds later, Kady’s shrill tone almost deafens me, rattling around the car. “Jagger Knight! If you’ve taken advantage of my friend while she’s vulnerable, I’ll come down there and—”
“Of course not!” I interrupt her. “I’d never do that. Nash and Tae are with her now. I’ve…” I swallow hard. “Kept my distance.”
She mumbles something that sounds like, “Good riddance.”
“I’m just heading out to buy her some food for when she wakes up. I wanted to make sure I get things she likes,” I say. “I don’t have many people to ask, so I thought Calder—uh, or you—may have some advice about what to get her.”
“Oh.” Kady’s tone seems to change. “That’s very…
thoughtful of you.” There’s a long pause while I wait for her to say more.
Apparently, I’ve made the TVV co-editor speechless for a change.
“Springflour Bakery in Forestville makes an amazing key lime pie that she’s obsessed with.
Their ginger cookies would be great too.
Although they won’t be open right now, so you may have to make do with whatever you can grab at the store.
She also likes green smoothies, and you can put in… ”
I make mental notes as Kady rattles off ingredients for the smoothie. I’ve already let Delilah down enough—the least I can do is pay special attention to the difference between spirulina and wheatgrass.
“Thank you,” I sigh. “For your advice and for everything you’re doing with the press.”
“Don’t thank us. We’re not doing it for you,” she retorts flatly. “Delilah’s already had a hard enough time since meeting you. She doesn’t need a media circus to go alongside it, providing her with a constant reminder when you decide to disappear again.”
Before I can rebut, she hangs up on me. I get why Delilah’s friends are angry at me and love how protective they are over her, but it only makes me realize how far I’ve got to go to make amends. It’s not just Delilah I have to prove myself to.
I pull away from the house, deciding I’ll wait around for the bakery to open if I have to. There’s no way she’s going without her key lime pie if I have anything to do with it.
When I park about ten minutes later, I put on a pair of sunglasses to make some effort to hide my identity.
The Forestville streets are pretty empty this time of night, aside from a few people who appear to be heading home from the bars.
As Kady suspected, Springflour Bakery looks to have closed shop for the day, but I stop to check to see what time they open.
On the way, I walk behind a group of people, chatting animatedly about what took place at the SVU concert, pondering over what happened to make Jagger Knight leave… and the mystery girl he supposedly chased after.
I stop for a few moments, waiting for them to turn the corner before continuing onto the bakery. When I reach it, I see a light on in the back and a baker busy kneading dough through the steamed windows. I knock on the door, keeping my head down.
The baker glances up in my direction then points at the sign to indicate it’s closed.
I sigh and remove my glasses. Even though she’s a lady in her fifties—outside the usual age range of my fans—she must recognize me as she immediately stops working, clapping her flour-covered hands together to create a white cloud before bustling over to the door.
“Jagger Knight?” She gasps. “What are you—”
“I was hoping to buy some baked goods.” I flash her my rockstar smile. “I know you may not have them, but I have a list…” I show her my cell phone with all the items I made note of.
“Heavens!” She takes it from me to scan it. “You’re in luck. I should have almost everything ready, and a batch of cookies is just about to go in the oven. Come on in.”
The moment I step inside, I’m swallowed up by the mouthwatering aroma of freshly baked bread and cakes. The rhythmic hum of an industrial mixer whirs in the background as the kind lady ushers me back into the kitchen.
“I’m Dora.” She has a slight limp when she walks. “I’ve owned this place for most of my life. If you don’t mind waiting, I’ll serve you up some of my special pie, and the soft ginger cookies won’t be long.”
I stand awkwardly near the colossal ovens, peering inside to see rows of golden croissants baking. They look perfect with their flaked almonds and sugared tops.
She pushes a stool across the floor. “Go on, sit down.”
She has a friendly voice, the kind of person who instantly makes you feel at home.
“I can’t say I’ve ever had a celebrity in my shop before.
My granddaughter will be tickled pink to hear you were here.
” She busies herself by grabbing boxes and piling goods inside for me.
She holds up an entire key lime pie. “Will one be enough?”
“More than.” I smile meekly. “Thanks for doing this. I didn’t want to cause you any trouble.”
“No trouble!” She waves her hand. “So why are you needing late-night snacks?” Her eyes twinkle knowingly behind her glasses, and the smile lines around her mouth deepen. “Is there a lucky lady in your life?”
“I guess.” I play with the fraying sleeve of my hoodie. “Although she doesn’t want anything to do with me.”
“How could anyone not want anything to do with a sweet boy who is doing all of this for her?” she clucks, selecting the biggest cheese and rosemary biscuit. “I’m sure she cares about you a great deal.”
“I haven’t treated her very well.” The last thing I need is any pity.
“But I’m trying to make it right. I just…
” I massage my temples, not quite knowing why I’m opening up to a stranger so freely when it took me months to open up to my own pack, but I can’t help trusting her.
“I don’t know what more I can do. Words aren’t enough. ”
She stops what she’s doing. “Is this young lady special?”
“More than that,” I reply wistfully, Delilah’s face swimming before my mind’s eye. “She’s everything. She’s… my scent match.”
Fuck. I shouldn’t have said that. Maybe she’ll sell the story to the press.
“Holy heck!” She clutches her chest. “Aren’t you lucky to have found someone you’re destined to be with.”
“She probably doesn’t see it that way,” I blow out a leaden breath. “I messed up. Badly. She sees our connection as a curse. I’ve tried apologizing, but it’s no use. I don’t know what I can do to make things better.”
“Hmm.” She crosses her arms, chewing on her lip. “You’ve got yourself into quite a pickle, it seems. But you’re willing to make things right, and you love her, don’t you?”
I nod dutifully. Though my feelings for her are more than love. It’s a need. It’s the feeling of utter incompleteness without her. Delilah’s the perfect harmony to my chaos.
“We can’t control what other people do or how they feel.
I learned that long ago,” she continues.
“But we have control over our own actions. If words aren’t enough, you need to show her that you mean what you say.
It’ll take more than a batch of my cookies, but trust can be earned back.
One small act at a time.” She carefully ties a bow around a box.
“Hearts can be broken, but they can also be mended, and often, they’re even stronger once they’re put back together. ”
A buzzing timer has Dora hurrying to the other side of the kitchen.
Waiting for her to return, my eyes drift to a stack of envelopes precariously balanced on the flour-dusted work surface.
The red, angry ‘foreclosure’ stamp branded against the white paper hits me like a slap, wondering how the old woman keeps her spirits up despite the threat that must be hanging over her head.
“Soft ginger cookies, fresh out the oven!” Dora chirps, carrying over the tray and transferring them onto the cooling rack. “Now I hope your lucky lady enjoys these. I’ve tweaked the recipe a little, but I think it made them even better.”
I stay out of her way as she scurries around and gets everything ready for me. Although I haven’t done much right, I at least know that Delilah will be well-fed later.
I take out my wallet. “How much do I owe you?”
“This is on the house, hon.” She shakes her head. “I couldn’t charge you a dime when you’re looking to make amends.”
“Dora.” I refuse to budge, my eyes straying to the stack of envelopes on the table. “You have to let me give you something.”
“Don’t worry about those.” Seeing where I’m looking, she waves her plump arm dismissively.
However, I think I see a glint of fear in her eyes.
“I’ll work things out. I always do. Medical bills got a little out of hand, but I’ll figure it out.
I just gotta fix this mixer and take out another loan for a new oven, then it’ll all be swell.
” Her voice wavers with false optimism. “You’ll see.
I won’t let this place go under. It’s all I have. ”
“Then let me help you. Weren’t you trying to teach me that actions speak louder than words? Consider this a first step toward me becoming a better man.” I press a stack of bills into her hand. “I have an idea. One that may help us both.”
It’s a crazy one, but it may just work.