Chapter 23
DELANEY
Done.
I put the bracelet on myself. It was easy enough to make, just some leather strips, stainless steel clips and beads. With my signature boho vibes and adjustable closure, it was almost an identical one to Pia’s and ready to be shipped to her former guest.
Taking it off, I stood up and stretched, heading from my second-floor studio to the kitchen for a water refill. As I suspected, it had only taken about an hour to make, so there was plenty of time before I headed down to Heritage Hill.
For Taco Tuesday.
With Parker.
It wasn’t lost on either of us that this would be the fourth day in a row we were together. Bringing dinner last night, as promised, he sat with me until closing. Just as I’d suspected, there were few orders and even fewer customers.
Did I really want to do that job for the rest of my life?
The answer was almost as scary as what was happening with me and Parker. I went from a red light immediately to green, skipping yellow altogether. That night at Crystal Peak was like a switch being turned on inside of me after months of hurt and healing.
Of course my friends wanted to know everything, and while I didn’t tell Pia or Jules about Parker’s penchant for dirty talk, I may have said something about that night being the best sex of my life. Only because it was totally true.
Heading back upstairs, I stared at my supplies for a few minutes before cleaning.
Parker had signed up for his workshop and was heading to Rochester next weekend.
I could tell he was really excited about it with good reason.
Although he’d always planned to start his own construction company in Cedar Falls, Parker admitted last night he had felt stuck, unsure where to start.
He volunteered to help Mason renovate Heritage Hill partly to get a big job under his belt that wasn’t associated with the company he worked for.
And even though he was moving in the right direction, he never really saw a clear path forward.
Until now.
Niching into log cabin home construction might be, as Parker had put it, “his ticket out.”
What was my ticket out? Could I follow in his footsteps and take such a risk?
Probably not. Home building was a viable career.
Art, as my parents often reminded me, was not.
Plus, I had so many years of schooling, and money invested, in my pharmacy degree.
And a job that Mom said was a “once-in-a-lifetime opportunity,” since the turnover rate of pharmacists in Cedar Falls was next to nil.
Shaking my head, I cleaned up and headed into the bathroom to shower.
It was only a few blocks’ walk through the town square and down the hill to the lake, to Heritage Hill, but I needed to leave early to stop at Casa Di Vino.
Walking into the empty wine store, I empathized with poor Emilio, the owner.
He looked positively bored, staring at a magazine of some sort, though he didn’t seem to actually be reading it.
“Slow day, huh?”
“Days,” he clarified. “Not even foot traffic. You’d think we had two feet out there.”
“Busy on the weekend?”
“I was,” he said. “No one wanted to get stuck in a storm without their favorite vino.”
“A fate worse than death,” I agreed. Heading to the back to grab a bottle of Pia’s favorite, Pinot Noir, I prepared to be chastised by the Italian immigrant who had owned this shop for as long as I could remember.
“Willamette Valley Pinot is good, mia cara , but I have something better.”
His family still owned a vineyard in “the old country” as Emilio said, and it was excellent, but this wasn’t for me. “I’m heading down the hill,” I said. “This is for Pia.”
“Ahh, she’s a stubborn one too. Perfect for the Bennett boy,” he said, ringing me out.
I loved the fact that he called Mason, a thirty-two-year-old former Army Ranger, “the Bennett boy.” “They really are perfect for each other,” I agreed.
“What about you, Miss Thorton? Do you have a perfect man, or woman?” he quickly added. “Don’t mean to discriminate. I try to keep up with the times.”
“You’re doing great,” I assured him. “But no, I don’t have a perfect man. I mean”—I thought about that for a second—“I’m not sure if I do or not.”
Emilio’s brows raised. “We aren’t talking about Makis?”
“No, we’re not. But the fact that you know that tells me how horrible he really was for me.”
“Signoria Delaney, any man who makes you question yourself is not the one for you.”
“You could have told me much sooner,” I teased.
“Would you have listened?”
“No,” I said. “I wouldn’t.”
“So who’s the new guy?”
I didn’t want to define us yet. Not after less than a week. “He’s so new I don’t want to jinx it.”
Emilio’s eyes narrowed. “I know him.”
“It’s Cedar Falls. Of course you know him,” I teased.
He sat back down on his stool, crossed his arms, and looked at me as if he knew something I didn’t.
“Emilio Russo?” I tried, knowing I wouldn’t get anywhere. He called Pia and Mason stubborn, but it was a fact that, of all the store owners in town, no one dug in his heels more than this guy. He was easy-going in a lot of ways, but his ideas were his own and no one would tell him otherwise.
“Fine,” I said. “Be mysterious.”
“Tell Pia and Mason I said buongiorno .”
“Will do.” With narrowed eyes and a look that apparently did not move Emilio to confess what he’d written on that scrap of paper, I made my way from the door.
“ Ciao ,” I said, used to his standard greeting, and parting.
“ Ciao , ciao ,” he replied as I opened the door and left, heading down the hill.
Do you have a perfect man?
There really was no such thing, but as far as Parker went, he was pretty damn close.
Sure, he had hangups because of his father.
And if I’d given a list of qualities in a boyfriend, “extreme outdoorsman” would not have been one of them.
My idea of camping started and stopped at making s’mores by the fire, followed by running water to take a shower and a bed with a big fluffy pillow.
But he was also kind, thoughtful, beyond good-looking…
and then there was the whole bedroom skill-set thing.
I literally could not get Sunday night out of my head, and probably never would for the rest of my life.
And yet I’d thought Makis was pretty darn awesome until he’d torn my heart into a million pieces. But I wouldn’t dwell on that. I resolved to put him firmly in the past, and that was what I would do.
I knocked at the door of the “house” side of Heritage Hill, the inn and original structure attached but completely separate from the addition where the boys, and Pia, lived, and it was less than thirty seconds when the door opened.
“Hey, Delaney. For not seeing you,” Beck said, opening the door wide, “almost ever, this is like the third time in a week. Come on in.”
“I hope you’re not complaining,” I said, heading inside. The smell of tacos made my mouth water. “No work tonight?”
“Not at all. Off,” he said. “Working two doubles in the next three days.”
“Ouch. I know how that feels.”
We walked toward the kitchen. Even though this part of the inn was an add-on, it had the same feel as the original.
Heritage Hill was more like a mini castle than it was a house, and since Mason’s dad passed and he and the guys had been renovating it, the place looked amazing, a combination of grandiosity that was the manor house but with modern B&B vibes.
“There’s my girl,” Pia said when we walked in.
Unfortunately, Parker was nowhere to be found.
He’d first mentioned Taco Tuesday last night, and when I texted Pia to tell her, she had been thrilled that I would be coming.
“This is for you,” I said, handing her the wine.
“Delaney Montana Thorton. You did not have to bring this. You’re family here.”
“Montana?”
The voice went right through me, giving me a tingling sensation from my shoulders down to my toes. If I closed my eyes, I could see him positioned above me, Parker’s tone low and intimate. Just like that.
Turning, I wondered what I’d been thinking when we’d had lunch together. Did I really believe it was possible to resist him?
A moss-green long-sleeve shirt, cuffs rolled to his elbows, made his eyes look more green than hazel. His hair still damp, Parker was… perfect.
There is no such thing as a perfect man.
Except the evidence standing in front of me suggested otherwise.
“My parents conceived me on a hunting trip to Montana. Mom wasn’t supposed to go but Dad’s friend canceled last minute.”
He walked toward me. “I didn’t know your dad was a hunter?”
“I didn’t mention it?”
“No,” he said, stopping short of me. Apparently we weren’t at the “greet with a kiss” stage yet. Which should not have disappointed me since the last thing I wanted was a full-blown relationship.
“I imagine you are?” I asked him.
Mason snorted. “Deer. Turkey. Bear. Archery. Rifle. You name a hunting season and Parker’s into it.”
“You’d get along great with my dad.”
“Would like to meet him sometime.”
Our eyes met, and held. He fired the first shot, so I’d just match his energy.
“That could be arranged.”
Beck cleared his throat. “If you two lovebirds could step aside,” he said, trying to reach the island, “I was just making a taco station.”
“Margarita?” Pia asked, as she was clearly in charge of drinks.
“Duh,” I said, standing off to the side. Didn’t want to get between Beck and his tacos.
Parker leaned down toward my ear, which was when I knew I was in for it.
“I didn’t ask to come home with you last night, cupcake. Thought you could use a break. But I’m asking now if you’ll let me take you home later?”
As Parker went, his words were much milder than expected.
“Sure,” I said quietly, unsure why he’d whispered it.
“Good,” he said, still in my ear. “Because I do enjoy tacos but am more looking forward to dessert.”
Hello, Parker .
“What are you two whispering about over there?” Pia teased, coming toward me with a margarita.
Parker stood up straight as I took the drink. “Trade secrets, my child.”
“Well, Mr. Mysterious, the more important question is, do you want a margarita?”
“Why not? I like to live on the edge.”
“Look at that,” Beck said, apparently finished with his taco station just as Mason poured a pan of beef into a bowl on the counter. “Mr. Miller Light, expanding his horizons.”
“I drink other stuff too.”
“Sure, like Coors Light. Sometimes Ultra when you really want your beer to taste like water.”
“He had wine at Crystal Peak,” I said, trying to defend Parker. Apparently, it backfired. Both Mason and Beck froze and stared at Parker, who shrugged.
“What? I’ve been known to drink wine on occasion.”
“Oh, yeah, what occasion is that?”
“To answer your question,” Parker said to Pia, ignoring his friends, “yes, please. With salt.”
“Coming right up.”
We drank margaritas. Ate tacos. Laughed. The guys taunted and teased each other mercilessly as if they were brothers.
When Parker and I reached for a tortilla chip at the same time and our fingers touched, I had visions of last weekend. When he looked at me from across the room where he and Pia made a second round of margaritas, I had visions of last weekend.
Pretty much all night, anytime we got close, I had… you guessed it… visions of last weekend. Our chemistry was undeniable.
Pia asked if I needed to hit the ladies’ room.
“There’s one toilet,” Mason said.
“Right. We’re close,” she responded, grabbing my hand.
The second we were alone, Pia gushed, “Delaney, holy crap. It is ten times more intense than you described. He cannot stop looking at you.”
“The feeling is mutual,” I said.
We stood outside the bathroom, speaking in hushed voices like two teenage girls. I couldn’t help feeling giddy, though, at the thought of Parker coming home with me tonight.
“He’s taking me home,” I added.
“Taking you home? Or staying over?”
“Good question. Hopefully, the latter,” I admitted.
Pia’s smile could not have been any bigger. “Makis who?”