Chapter 17
Warner
Hiding out in my own apartment from the woman who invaded it is perfectly normal.
That’s what I keep telling myself anyway.
There’s nothing normal about Delaney’s and my relationship, but I’m working within the boundaries of this craziness the best I can.
Tonight will break this case wide open. Though I don’t put much past her at this stage.
She has a way of making a comeback. I’m sure she’ll manage to pull something out of thin air to keep this pretense from ending.
Even though she’s screwing with my life, is it wrong to be impressed by her tenacity?
She gets bothered anytime I mention the missing phone, claiming it couldn’t have walked off and broken itself.
I don’t even know what she means by that.
I’ve learned to let go of some of the wackier things she says.
The phone must be here somewhere, but I’ve failed to find it.
I did a quick search of my home office before hiding out in here to go through some of the emails that have been piling up.
If I hadn’t been in here early this morning, I wouldn’t have gotten the calendar reminder about the event.
Good thing I did. It’s the perfect occasion to show off my brand-spanking-new wife.
My jacket hangs on a hook on the back of the door as I sit dressed in my suit while she gets ready in the bedroom. I thought she was until she says, “Warner?”
“Coming,” I reply, falling into this weird relationship we’ve formed.
Her heels against the hardwood allow me to trace her path from the bedroom to the living room.
I finish the email and push send before standing.
After stealing the scissors from my desk, I pluck the jacket from the hook and close the door behind me when I leave the room.
Analyzing the right sleeve, I rub my thumb over the seam.
“I managed to get the shirt over my cast. I’ll leave the cuff unbuttoned, but can you help me cut up my jacket? ”
I walk to the center of the living room before looking up.
My chest tightens from the sight of her.
“Delaney?” I don’t know what I’m asking.
The concussion is messing with my words, I lie to myself.
It’s she who’s stolen them from my mouth.
The makeup is darker around her eyes but lighter on her lips, bare with only a shine drawing my eyes.
The black of her lashes brings out the Mediterranean Sea coloring of her eyes.
I could dive in and be content to swim in the calm of her waters.
“Wow.” She makes me want to keep her tucked away in this apartment, all to myself.
Pure.
Effortless.
Extraordinary.
Her beauty is highlighted for those who are too blind to see how stunning she is, fresh from the shower.
That’s not me. I couldn’t stop staring, especially when a drop of water had escaped from the threads of the towel and ran along her hairline.
I almost reached out to catch it, but she swiped it away as if it hadn’t just kissed her skin like I want to do now.
We could skip the event. Who cares if I’ve donated thousands? Or that I’m expected to be honored during the cocktail hour. Will anyone really care if I don’t make an appearance?
I’d have a really good excuse to stay home. My wife.
She dares to wobble to the side, her weight balancing on a shyness that’s gripped her as if she’s not the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. With her gaze falling to the floor, she asks, “Is this not okay?”
“It’s more than okay.” Tossing my jacket on the island and the scissors on top, I move in to bring her into the safety of my hold.
The thin straps and heart-shaped neckline highlight her collarbone and the rounded tops of her breasts.
The smallest specks of sunshine cause a sheen across her skin, while the curves of her body command my gaze to travel every square inch to the hem that hits higher on her thigh than I expected.
I’m not upset, given the view of her shapely legs.
“You’re breathtaking.” I grin, slipping my arm around her waist along the back of the jewel-toned green fabric and bringing her to me.
“Word stealing, in fact.” There’s not a resistant bone in her body as I kiss above her temple, and then whisper against her skin, “You look beautiful, Delaney.”
Her head tucks against my chest. “You sure?”
“More than sure.”
She looks up at me. “It’s a beautiful dress, Warner. Thank you.”
Stepping back, I take her in all over again. She looks so damn beautiful. I feel smug over pulling this off. “It’s a good thing I have people with great taste on . . . I would have said speed dial but email in this case. I only pulled this off because you slept in, though.”
“I’ll start sleeping in more often if I get pretty dresses and expensive jewelry.
” She steps to the vase, taking one of the stems to bend and smell the flower.
“Ow.” She pushes the finger to her mouth and then holds it there while her tongue dips out to touch the surface.
“A thorn. The prick,” she snarks with a half-hearted grin.
I take her finger and hold it in front of me to inspect the damage. I kiss the tiny spot. “I think you’re going to lose it.”
She laughs. “Hopefully not. But I may not be safe around vicious thorny things.” She certainly loves that word.
“I don’t know. You seem to do okay with me.”
Her smile blooms like the roses next to her—vibrant and pretty in pink. Tapping my chest with the injured finger, she laughs. “That was funny.”
With a shrug, I say, “I try.” Glancing at the jacket, I realize I still have this to deal with.
“The jacket won’t go on over my cast, and I didn’t have time to have it altered.
” I pick up the scissors and flip the sleeve to expose the seam.
“If we open the seam every other inch, I think I can squeeze the cast through by allowing it to stretch without having the sleeve flap open. And—”
“You’re going to cut your suit jacket? That’s unconscionable. Look at the fabric.” She digs for a tag at the collar, and then her mouth drops open. Turning to gape at me, she says, “This is Tom Ford.”
“I know. I had it made for me, but it does me no good if I can’t wear it.”
“But, but—”
“It will be okay.” I chuckle. “If we’re careful and keep to the seam, I can have a tailor fix it when I’m healed.”
Staring at it, she hugs it to her chest. “I just,” she starts, her eyes linking to mine. “It’s so incredible. What if I ruin it and you can’t get it fixed?”
I rub her upper back, then rest my hand on her shoulder. “Doesn’t matter. It’s only a jacket.”
Sweeping the jacket in front of her, she lays it flat on the island. “Okay. Let’s do it.” Holding out her hand, she requests, “Scissors.”
I hand them to her, and we work together to get the job done—me directing and her opening the seams. At the bottom of the cuff, she says, “Put it on and we’ll see how much I need to open up for your hand.”
She helps put it on, and though it’s a squeeze, we get it all the way to my elbow. Bending down, she stares at the stretched fabric. “We need to release the cuff. Not much but—”
“I trust you. Do what you need to do.”
Taking in a deep breath, she exhales. “It’s only a jacket.” She’s so quiet that I think it's her own personal pep talk, but without hesitation, she opens the cuff, sets the scissors down, and yanks the jacket the rest of the way. “There.” Her eyes are bright as she looks at me for approval.
“Great job. Thank you.” Rolling my neck around the collar, I add, “Now I won’t stand out as much.”
She steps closer again, but this time, she takes my tie and straightens it. With a pat to my chest, she says, “You look very dapper, Hotshot.”
I catch her wrist before she slips away. When she looks back, the determination that keeps her on her toes has been replaced by something softer. A moment of weakness? Or is she coming around to trusting me?
“What is it?” she whispers, her eyes wider from curiosity as she searches mine for an answer.
I take a sobering breath, having lost my own ambition to take her down and send her packing. This feels like a date with someone I care about. I swallow down the emotion trying to swell in my chest. I’m sure it will pass. “You almost forgot your necklace.”
Her delicate fingers grace her neck as if she’s surprised it’s not on. “Did you really buy that for me?”
Opening the jewelry box, the diamonds that wrap around the platinum base sparkle without needing light to make them shine.
I slip the necklace from the anchors and undo the clasp.
I chuckle lightly, not at her expense but at the thought of gifting something to someone and then expecting it back.
“You don’t have to give it back at the end of the night.
” Shit, did that happen to her? I don’t think now’s the time to bring up the past when we’re working so hard to stay present in our fabrications.
I bring it around her neck from behind. Sweeping her hair to one side, I fasten it around her neck, making sure it lays flat on her skin.
When I step around, I admire this stunning creature. “You look like a million bucks, Sass.”
“Sass?”
“If the shoe fits . . .” I use her response against her.
“And I was just getting used to the sound of disdain when you call me sweetheart, and here you go, changing it up on me.” Grabbing the small bag that matches her shoes, she plucks my tie as she passes. “A million bucks says you can’t make it one car ride without denigrating into utter irritation.”
“We’re about to find out, Sass,” I reply with a wink, following her toward the door.
“Okay. Okay. Let’s not wear it out.”
I chuckle as we set out on our first venture, where we’ll encounter people from our real lives. Mine, to be specific. I’m on the edge of my seat, wanting to see how she handles this.
Something about car rides always seems to quieten her.
I wonder if she’s using the time to plot or calm.
She doesn’t appear anxious and has only touched up her lipstick as if she’s looking forward to the event.
Some small talk is made about the crowd ascending the steps into the museum, but otherwise, we arrive without a hitch or a confession.
Upon entering, I check us in and pin our ribbons onto the front of our clothes. “What does a gold ribbon mean?”
Leaning in, I reply, “It means we donated.”
She smiles to herself, but I catch it. “How much?” she whispers, waggling her eyebrows as she digs her nose into my business by lifting on her tiptoes and grinning at me. She’s cute, but I’m still not sharing those figures with her.
“Enough.”
Lowering back down, she pouts. “Blah. Fine, don’t share.” She looks around. “Where can we get a drink in this place?” It’s amazing how she doesn’t seem the least bit worried that she might be busted tonight. I wish I had her confidence. Oh, wait . . . yeah, I’m not known to be humble.
“The bar is over here.” I place a hand on her back to guide her through the crowd. When it gets too dense, I drop my hand to hold hers. She slips it into mine so naturally that I’m beginning to believe we’re a couple. And then I remind myself that snakes slither into your life.
We reach the bar and order drinks. While they pour her a glass of champagne and then reach for the good bourbon behind them, she leans against me, happy, feeling good by how her whole body is pressed against me like I’m not her mark. “I’m glad we came.”
“Have you attended before?”
She gently pushes hair from my forehead and off to the side. “Only with you, silly. You don’t remember?”
“Guess not.”
“I’ve been thinking about something,” she says as we stroll away from the bar with our drinks in hand.
“Oh yeah? What’s that?” I sip the liquor as we find a vacant cocktail table near the La Nuit bronze sculpture with a view of Central Park at night. I’d rather look at Delaney, who wins my attention over great masterpieces any day.
“Are you really a member of the Mile High Club?” She takes a sip of her champagne and then holds it in front of her with her eyes locked on me.
I start to laugh, which is a good distraction since I really have no intention of getting into my past sex life with her. “Have you ever seen Washington Crossing the Delaware? The Met has the original. It’s the size of a wall. We really should—”
“It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me, but just because you mentioned it, I’m not a member.”
She peers up at me, waiting to see how I’ll react, as if I’d judge her for that. I set my glass down on the table. Brushing my hand over her cheek, I cup it, making sure she’s looking into my eyes. “Everyone should see Washington Crossing the Delaware at least once in their life—”
I’m whacked on the chest. “You are outright insufferable, you know that, Warner Landers?”
I’m too busy laughing to respond, but I missed a moment I’m already regretting.
“I do know, and when I forget for only a second, I have you to remind me.” She laughs, but it’s light as she looks down at the ring on her finger, catching the slimmest of light in the hall where we’re standing. “Hey, Sass?”
When she looks up, I’m forgiven. There’s no malice lingering in her eyes.
Thinking back over the past few days, I don’t think there ever was.
It’s the opposite now. The way she’s looking at me like I’m the one who can save her inspires me to pick up where we left off yesterday.
Lifting under her chin, I lean down to kiss her.
“I was hoping you’d be here, Warner.” The familiar voice sounds my alarm before I have a chance to open my eyes. Incoming. Incoming. Incoming. As soon as I do, I take a firm hold of Delaney’s hand, holding her close to my side. “Mother, I didn’t expect to see you.”
“Mother?” Delaney whispers under her breath beside me.
Shit.