Chapter 15
DELTA
I ’ve gotten accustomed to not making a big fuss out of my birthday.
My brothers are always sweet, bringing me some ungodly baked monstrosity from whichever local bakery I’m currently worshiping at the altar of and being their usual obnoxious, loving selves.
Lake and Bay are driving to Utah right now, though, and since Brooks didn’t mention anything when he gave me one last lingering kiss before leaving for work this morning—a full hour late—I kind of expected that my twenty-first birthday would be just as uneventful as all the other ones.
I don’t mind. Even if not a single person remembers, I’m going to walk around with a big, cheesy smile on my face all day because Brooks loves me.
We still have things to work out. I’m sure there will be bumps in the road, but this is it .
I’m not going anywhere, and neither is he.
No more running, no more hiding, no more pretending.
I’ve felt so unsettled since my accident, like my whole life was up in the air, but now…
now all I can think about is that conversation we had weeks ago where I la id in my old bedroom and stared out at the night sky, wishing everything was different.
We’d talked about family, and my heart had ached that Brooks thought he would be alone.
Now, I can’t wipe the smile off my face because he was wrong.
He has me now and I— “Am I being weird?” I ask Fibula distractedly, looking over my cup of coffee at the giant, fluffy baby, who is watching me closely through concerned brown eyes.
I probably am. It’s only noon, Brooks won’t be home for hours, and I’m still debating whether I should tell him it’s my birthday or not.
It’s day one of our relationship, and big emotional confessions aside, I’d hate for him to feel bad about not doing anything.
I don’t care, I didn’t expect it, and I’ve just resolved to let my twenty-first pass unnoticed when the doorbell rings.
The courier is already halfway back to his truck by the time I open the door, and waves at me over his shoulder as I kneel, my heart suddenly fluttering.
Sitting on the doorstep is a big, light blue box, the kind you’d get in a high end department store.
“Did you know about this?” I ask the dogs as I bring it inside and set it on the kitchen counter.
There’s no note, but when I lift the cover, my knees go weak.
Nestled in white tissue paper is a full outfit, and I take each piece out at a time, unsure if I want to cry or drive to his office to beg Brooks Harrison to marry me immediately.
There’s a dress that is the prettiest, classiest thing I’ve ever seen.
A coat is tucked beneath it, with low ankle boots to match.
He even thought to get a matching purse and a little pair of teardrop earrings that I really hope aren’t real diamonds.
At the very bottom, I find an envelope and open with trembling hands.
Happy Birthday, Delta.
I’m sorry I had to work today, but a car is coming at 1 p.m. to take you to Phoebe’s spa.
I’ve booked what my sister—a notoriously excellent saleswoman—has assured me is the absolute best package they offer, and I’m absolutely not being up-charged for using her entire bottle of nail polish remover for a science experiment in 6th grade.
Relax, enjoy, and I’ll pick you up from there at five.
In case I didn’t say it enough earlier, I am completely, madly, and obsessively in love with you.
—Brooks
It’s a miracle I’m still able to stand. This is so much more than I could have ever expected. It’s romantic and sweet and… holy hell. I’m so happy.
Trying to avoid squealing like a child, I pick up my phone and hit Brooks’ contact. It’s the middle of his work day and I don’t expect him to answer, but he does on the second ring. He sounds like he’s smiling when he asks, “You got it?”
“I got it,” I confirm, running my hand over the dress which I’ve spread out on the kitchen counter after painstakingly checking for crumbs. “I can’t believe you did all this, Brooks. You didn’t have to.”
He snorts, and I can picture his wry, exasperated expression. “I absolutely did. You’ve been responsible for all romantic progress in our relationship thus far. I need to catch up.”
Butterflies erupt in my belly. “This should do it. I seriously don’t know what to say. Nobody has ever done anything like this for me before. I can’t stop smiling.” Through the phone, I hear someone saying his name in the background. “I’m sorry for calling in the middle of the day, you’re busy.”
“ Always call Delta. I won’t pick up if I’m in surgery or with a patient, but I’ll give you my assistant’s number. You can text her if it’s an emergency.”
I bite my lip, flashes from early this morning coming back to me yet again. “What constitutes an emergency situation, Doctor Harrison?” I ask coyly. Does horny count? If so, he needs to get home ASAP.
Hearing a change in my tone, Brooks groans quietly. “Fuck, baby. You’re killing me. Later, okay?”
“More than before?” I know he was trying to be chivalrous, ensuring I have a first-time worth remembering, but it’s only been six hours and I’m already sick of waiting.
A super romantic birthday date seems like a good way to kick things off.
“Because I really, really want to do more than before. A lot more.”
He curses and I grin at the sound of more voices in the background. Something tells me I’ll pay dearly for teasing him, and I can’t wait. I want to undo every little bit of his restraint just to see what happens. “We’ll, ah , talk about it.”
“ Hmm , sounds like fun. I love you.” That last bit is thrown in with a smile because now that it’s out there, I’m not taking it back.
I don’t expect him to return the sentiment so readily, not in the middle of a bunch of people at work, but the eternally professional Doctor Harrison doesn’t even hesitate.
“I love you too, Delta. Happy birthday.”
I’ve never felt so beautiful.
The dress Brooks got me not only fits perfectly, but is also completely me .
Pale blue and made of a crinkly, lightweight material that floats around me when I walk, it elicits groans of longing from the other women in the salon when Phoebe sends me off to change at the end of my afternoon of being aggressively pampered.
The little white boots he got have the lowest possible heels—undoubtedly out of concern for my hip—and are bedecked with silver studs that match the buttons on my coat.
“You didn’t help him with this?” I ask Phoebe yet again, who has been almost unbearably smug from the moment I walked in here, practically bursting to say “I told you so” while her staff whisked me around the salon for my massage, facial, manicure, pedicure, and generally pamper me to within an inch of my life.
“Nope,” she sighs longingly, helping me into the long, dark blue coat that came with the rest of my gifts. “Talk about setting the bar high, though, wow . For my birthday last year, Josh got me a teapot.”
I giggle, turning to admire myself one more time in the mirror by the door. My hair is arranged in loose curls and my eyes look huge, their lids dusted with silvery shadow. “Do you drink a lot of tea?”
Phoebe snorts. “No, but I mentioned replacing the old kettle because it was rusty.” She looks past me to the dark street and sniffs. “I can’t believe that is the little boy who once gave Mom a diagram of a dissected worm for Mother’s Day.”
I follow her gaze, and my heart skips a beat. Brooks is getting out of his car across the road from the salon, dressed in a black suit, a bouquet of flowers in hand.
Wow. I thought he was the hottest man on Earth in scrubs, but I stand corrected .
“Go,” Phoebe nudges me, her eyes a little watery. “I’ll only kill the mood being a sappy big sister.”
There is a chorus of goodbye’s and good luck’s from all the other women in the salon, and I wave to them, beaming as I step outside into the cold night air.
Brooks is just stepping up onto the curb when he spots me, and the flowers fall limply to his side as I descend the steps.
He looks so hot in black, and even though he’s made an effort to get his hair under control, I can’t wait to make it messy again.
We meet in the middle of the sidewalk and he leans down to kiss me deeply, one hand curling around the back of my neck. How much romancing can a girl take before she just dissolves into a puddle on the ground? I’m warm all over, and my heart had felt full enough to burst before he’d done all this.
“You look so handsome,” I tell him when we break apart, swiping my thumb over his bottom lip to remove the glossy sheen left behind from my makeup.
Brooks’ eyes haven’t moved from my face for a second, and he looks dazed, as though he can’t quite believe what he’s seeing.
“Me? ” he huffs, with a hint of his usual, bossy, impatient tone.
“You look so beautiful, Delta. Beautiful doesn’t seem like a good enough word.
I’m sure there’s a better one, but my brain doesn’t seem to be functioning at optimal capacity right now. ”
My answering smile is huge. A hook low in my belly seems to pull me forward into him, and I’m helpless to resist. As soon as I lean forward, Brooks curls an arm around my waist, ducking down to claim my lips with a kiss far less sweet than the last. It’s edged in hunger, and when I press myself closer to him, I can feel the ridge of his erection pressing into my stomach.
Yes, please .
“Come on,” he groans, sinking his teeth playfully into my bottom lip, hard enough to make my breath hitch. “We have a reservation.”