Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Wilder
“Thank God you’re home!” Mallory engulfs me in the biggest hug she’s ever given me and when I glance over at Delilah, she’s cracking up at her dramatics. “If I had to work with that guy for one more day, I was gonna kill him.”
Delilah and I flew back early this morning and after she dropped off her mom at home, she met me at my house so we could come up with a plan to tell my parents.
“Was he that bad?” Delilah asks once Mallory releases me.
“He acts like he’s never worked on a ranch before.” She blows out a frustrated breath. “I had to talk him through everythin’ and then he’d have a hundred follow-up questions. I couldn’t get any of my own stuff done. Eventually, I told Antonio to deal with him.”
“He hasn’t…” Delilah furrows her brows. “He did construction, not ranching.”
Mallory tilts her head at me, glaring. “You told me he knew what he was doin’!”
“I trained him for a few days.” I shrug, walking around her to go to the fridge.
“He probably wanted someone to talk to,” Delilah says. “He doesn’t have a lot of friends here.”
“Gee, I wonder why…” Mallory rolls her eyes, crossing her arms. “Well, either way…I’m tappin’ out. He’s your problem again.”
I pour myself a glass of sweet tea and then one for Delilah. “You might haveta deal with him for a few days next week.”
Delilah’s face twists as I hand her one of the glasses. I haven’t told her I’m planning a mini honeymoon of sorts before Christmas, which doesn’t give us much time, but I’m determined to make it work between our schedules. If I only have thirty days, I’m not wasting a single one.
“Wilder, you’re home!” Mom enters the kitchen with Gramma Grace. She walks over with her arms open and wraps them around me. “Delilah? Hey, sweetheart.”
Mom hugs her next. “How was y’alls flight?”
“Good,” Delilah replies, glancing at me over my mom’s shoulder. I can tell she’s panicking.
Gramma Grace comes over and gives me a little smack on the cheek. “What’d you do?”
I press my hand over where she hit. “What was that for?”
Her gaze finds my left hand. My expression is devious when I realize she’s looking at my ring.
“Uh-oh. What’d you do?” Mallory walks over, poking her nose between us.
I shove her away and stand next to Delilah.
“Is Dad home?” I ask my mom.
If I have to explain this, I’d rather only have to do it once.
“He’s gettin’ outta the shower. He’ll be down in a moment,” Mom says. “Did y’all eat?”
“Not yet, but—”
“Mallory, set two more plates, please. There’s enough roast for y’all. Take a seat,” Mom demands, which means there’s no room for arguing.
“You like strawberry cheesecake?” Gramma Grace asks Delilah once we sit.
“Yeah, that sounds delicious.” Delilah grins, looking uneasy.
Bringing my hand to her leg, I give it a little squeeze and lean into her ear. “Relax. It’s gonna be fine.”
Her tight-lipped smile tells me she doesn’t believe me.
While we wait for my father, we make small talk with Mallory and Gramma Grace. Apparently, they ran into Molly at the grocery store and Gramma Grace gave her an earful while Mallory warned her about dumping horseshit inside her car if she wrote another bad article about the family.
“Jesus Christ…” I shake my head. “No wonder people call us the Southern mafia.”
“Language,” Mom snaps. “And who does?”
“Everyone…” I hold up my right hand and lift a finger.
“Craig died in the barn fire after threatenin’ Noah’s life.
” I bring up another finger. “Landen shot a drug dealer linked to Magnolia’s baby daddy, who was also found dead in the trunk of said drug dealer.
” Another finger. “Tripp shot Ruby’s ex-boyfriend, who tried to kill her and then was found dead in the lake the followin’ day.
” Another finger. “I shot the guy who kidnapped Harlow, who unfortunately survived.”
Delilah slowly glances at me, and I know exactly what she’s thinking: What the hell did I marry into?
I’d burst out laughing if it wasn’t so accurate.
“When you say it like that, we do sound a little mobish.” Mallory winces.
“To be fair, those people deserved it.” Gramma Grace shrugs, stirring the gravy at the stovetop. “You protect the family at all costs.”
“That’s exactly what the mafia would say,” I deadpan, taking a drink of my sweet tea.
“What’s that?” Mallory points to my left hand.
Delilah keeps her head down, conveniently hiding her hands underneath the table.
“What’s what?” Dad asks, finally entering the kitchen.
“She’s askin’ about my wedding band.”
Delilah’s head snaps up along with everyone else’s.
“Why’re you wearin’ a wedding band on your ring finger?” Mallory asks, oblivious to the obvious.
“Because I got married in Vegas,” I respond calmly, watching and waiting for them to freak out.
“Married?” Dad’s brows rise, crossing his arms as he stands at the head of the table. “To who?”
“Me,” Delilah confesses, holding up her left hand and revealing the rock I got her.
“I knew it!” Mallory shouts, pumping a fist in the air. “You owe me fifty bucks, Aunt Dena.”
“Huh?” I shift my gaze from her to my mom.
“We bet that you two were secretly hookin’ up. She thought I was crazy but—”
“We were drunk,” I clarify, but mostly to burst her bubble.
“Still counts,” Mallory argues.
“I—”
“Lemme get this straight…” Dad holds up his palm, cutting me off. “You two”—he waves a finger between Delilah and me—“got hitched in Vegas after gettin’ wasted?”
“That’s pretty much correct, yes.”
I’m not about to admit there was a part of me that knew exactly what we were doing. Or that I don’t regret it.
Mom stands next to Dad, rubbing her temples. “Are you…together?”
Grinning, I look at Delilah and squeeze her hand. “Yes.”
“We just started datin’,” Delilah clarifies. “Like three days ago.”
“But when she screamed my first name, I couldn’t resist givin’ her my last.” I wink at Delilah and her whole face beets red.
“Wilder!” she whisper-hisses, smacking her thigh into mine.
As if my parents aren’t used to my oversharing big mouth.
“Oh, I totally win the bet now,” Mallory gloats, dancing in her seat. “I told y’all.”
“I knew before everyone else,” Gramma Grace boasts.
“Of course you did…” Mallory blows out a breath. “You always do.”
I crack up because it’s true.
“So now what?” Dad asks, grabbing a beer from the fridge.
“She’s movin’ in with me and we’re seein’ where it goes.” I lift a shoulder because as simple as it sounds, it’s true. Even though Delilah said thirty days, I have no doubt it’s going to work long term.
“Well, then”—Mom sets down the large dish with the roast in the middle of the table—“welcome to the family, Delilah. I hope you know what you’re doin’.” She winks at her. “And you’ll be expected at Sunday night suppers and to stay for scrapbookin’.”
Delilah’s cheeks redden, but her smile widens. “Yes, ma’am.”
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” I ask, holding her hand as we walk to my truck.
“Better than I expected, honestly. But I feel like they’re disappointed.”
I open the passenger side door and help her in, but she angles toward me with her legs on either side of me. “Trust me, I’ve seen ’em disappointed, and that’s not it. More like concern. For you, not for me.”
She chuckles. “After you’ve finished your volunteer hours at the shelter, you’re gonna have to come to my parents’ house for Saturday game nights. Especially if I’m comin’ here every Sunday night.”
“I might not be done with my hours in the next thirty days…” I tilt up her chin, bringing my mouth closer to hers but not quite touching. “But if I’m still your husband when I’ve completed ’em, I’d be honored to go with you.”
She closes the gap between us and brushes her lips against mine. “Deal, hubby.”
“Fuck, don’t make me hard.” I adjust my cock in my jeans.
Laughing, she shakes her head. “You gonna tell me what you have up your sleeve for why you’ll be missin’ work?”
“Not yet. But prepare to need a few days off.”
“I can’t after takin’ time off for Vegas.”
“I’ll talk to Lacey and Mattie. I’m sure—”
“You’re not talkin’ to my boss and coworker! That’s oversteppin’.”
“You’re my wife—”
“Who doesn’t need her husband to butt into her job.”
I cup her face, leaning in close enough to rub my nose along her jawline and up to her ear. “We’re goin’ on a short honeymoon,” I whisper. “I want a few days alone with my wife before the holidays.”
She sucks in a breath. “Where?”
“Willow Branch Mountain. My aunt and uncle own a ranch and luxury resort up there. I texted my cousin, Warren, earlier and he found us a cabin to stay in. We leave Wednesday.”
It’s one of their older cabins that just got remodeled, so they hadn’t had any bookings for it. They’re usually scheduled out a year in advance, so I’m super grateful he’s letting me use it.
“That’s not enough time to find coverage for my shifts.”
“Then quit. I’ll cover your bills and whatever else you need.”
She shoves my chest, pushing me back. “You can’t say stuff like that. I wanna work and don’t need you to take care of me.”
“But what if I want to?”
“I know you’re used to gettin’ what you want and your family has tons of money, but I take pride in payin’ my own way. Plus, I like my job.”
“But it’s not what you wanna do long term.”
“Correct, but until I figure out what I wanna do, I’m not quittin’.”
“Okay, fine. But come Wednesday, you’re mine through Saturday.”
“What about your anger class and volunteerin’?”
“I’ll go to my class on Thursday. It's only an hour from where we'll be. And I’ll let Miss Tierney know I’ll miss Saturday but will make it up during the holiday break.”
The retreat closes on Christmas Eve through New Year’s Day, so Landen can take his job back at the stud farm since there won’t be any trail rides for him to guide. Waylon can handle barn duties and I’ll help wherever I’m needed when I’m not at the shelter.
She looks at me skeptically. “Okay…I’ll figure out my schedule. But”—the smirk on her face grows as she sucks in her lower lip and bites it—“you better bring condoms this time.”