Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Harrison
“Okay, don’t think I’m some kind of sex-crazed creep, but doesn’t my husband look hot right now?” Tillie says to Delaney.
She probably doesn’t think I can hear her—not that she’d care— from where I’m sitting cross-legged on my hardwood floor, locked in an intense game of Crazy Eights with Layla.
I glance over at Henry as he walks around the dining room area of my open-concept first floor with a drowsy Lena lying on his chest. She’s angelic, with her head on her dad’s shoulder, her left hand wrapped around his neck, and her right hand clutching her pink stuffed bunny.
Henry rubs slow circles on her back, and the size of his hand highlights just how small she is.
I know exactly where Delaney is at any given moment.
Right now, she’s resting on the couch with Tillie, and hopefully, with a full belly.
When we had dinner, she barely ate at first, a worrisome pattern I’ve noticed several times.
I haven’t figured out why, and that drives me nuts.
So, when she only ate one piece of pizza at dinner, I grabbed another plate, added a second piece and some salad, and set it down in front of her without any explanation.
Her eyebrows rose to her hairline, and her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink, but I ignored it. She ate nearly every bite.
I liked taking care of her, even in such a minuscule way.
“I don’t think you’re sex-crazed… Or a creep. I think you’re just a woman in love and happy. It’s wonderful to watch your family together. Thanks for including me tonight.”
I can’t hear the rest of what they say, but the yearning in her voice when she talks about family causes me to wonder why she’s never spoken about hers. Or why I’m such a selfish asshat that I’ve never asked. I need to change that.
Layla’s giggling draws my attention.
“Are you cheating, Ladybug?” There’s drama and playfulness in my accusatory tone.
“I’m not cheating, Uncle Harry! You’re just not good at this game.”
“How dare you!” I feign appalled. “I’m an excellent player. I think there’s some eights hidden under your butt and that’s why you’re winning.”
“Not true!” Layla tries to look outraged at the suggestion as she scrunches her adorable face, but her bright smile betrays her.
I love the innocent, carefree sound of her laughter as it escapes her. I hope life is kind to her, and she always chuckles like that.
“I don’t believe you, Ladybug. You know the tickle monster comes out when he thinks someone’s not telling the truth.” I wiggle my fingers tauntingly.
“No, Uncle Harry. I mean it. I’m tellin’ the truth.” She scoots a few more inches away from me.
“If you don’t stand up and let me see…” I shrug.
“I refuse.” Layla folds her arms across her chest. “You just need to trust me—”
“Like I trusted you when we played Old Maid, and you cheated?” I stretch my legs out in front of me and tilt my head at her.
“That was forever ago. I was five then.” She shakes her head at me. “So much drama with you.”
A simultaneous snort and chuckle coming from the couch distracts Layla and me from our conversation.
“A snuckle!” Layla’s voice is full of glee as she directs her words at Delaney.
I’m staring at Delaney, her gorgeous green eyes ready to pop out of her head, and her hand over her mouth. I don’t even try to hide my amused smirk.
“Snuckle? Care to explain what a snuckle is, Bets?” I can deduce the meaning, but I can’t help teasing her.
“No, Uncle Harry. That’s a secret word just for Delaney and me to know. ‘Specially since you don’t believe me.” I glance back at Layla, and she purses her lips and cocks a shoulder. She’s so sassy, and it’s perfect.
I return my focus to my little opponent. “You’re gonna have to earn my trust again.”
Layla and I continue playing and trash-talking each other. I know she’s only six, but she can hang with the best of them when talking smack over cards.
“He’s not so bad either, is he?” I hear Tillie say to Delaney. “See, he’s not always a grump.”
I twist my head to listen for Delaney’s response, but when her eyes meet mine, and they narrow, it’s clear she knows I’m eavesdropping.
Unfortunately, after that, Tillie and Delaney resume their conversation with hushed voices, and I can no longer decipher their words. My split attention is hurting my game, though, so I force myself to pay heed to the cards.
“Harrison!” Tillie scolds. She surprises me, and I startle.
My eyes dart back and forth between Tillie and Delaney.
“What? I didn’t do anything. Layla’s the one who is—”
“I don’t care about the card game, but you are a poor loser,” Tillie teases. “You accused Delaney of stalking you when she started working at the office. What is wrong with you?”
I open my mouth to speak, yet nothing comes out.
“What’s stalking?” Layla asks.
“Wonderful,” Henry says, walking back into the room after putting Lena to sleep. “You want to take that one, Tills?”
I grin at my sister-in-law, eager to see what she does with this one.
“It just means someone is following someone else around a lot,” Tillie explains. “It’s not a very nice word, though, so I’m sorry I said it.”
“I don’t think I used the word stalking, anyway,” I say. I’ve recovered from my initial surprise.
“In fairness, that’s true—but you did ask if I knew who you were when…”
It’s endearing when her eyes widen with the realization that she’s sharing more than she means to about our first encounter.
“Go on, Bets. Finish what you were going to say.” I love the crimson color that floods her cheeks.
“Uncle Harry? Why do you call Delaney, Bets?” Layla asks.
Both of our mouths drop open—mine and Delaney’s—and our eyes widen. I don’t respond. I notice Henry and Tillie looking back and forth between us. Henry scratches his beard, grinning, while Tillie tilts her head with one eyebrow raised.
“Well, it’s just a nickname I made up for her—and it’s a secret.”
“A secret?” Layla leans forward conspiratorially. “Well, you can tell me. I don’t tell nobody’s secrets.”
“Oh no, I can’t tell this one, Ladybug. Maybe one day. You and Delaney have your secret word, and this is my secret with her.”
Within a few minutes, Delaney and Tillie have relocated to the dining room table and sip on wine as they talk. Damn, I definitely can’t hear them with the extra distance added to their subdued tones.
Layla fidgets on the floor and then glances up at Henry. “Daddy, will you stay here and guard my cards, so Uncle Harry doesn’t mess with them? I really gotta pee.”
Henry chuckles in response. “Go ahead, Ladybug. I’ll keep your uncle honest.”
Layla jumps up and races off to the bathroom. I shake my head at her energy and head to the kitchen to grab a drink. Delaney and Tillie are so caught up in conversation that they don’t even seem to notice when I walk past.
After I grab a soda for me and one for Henry, I make my way back toward the living room. Delaney’s back is to me, so she doesn’t realize I’m near when she replies to whatever Tillie just said to her.
“Not to be a creep, but that just made your husband even sexier.” Her tone is light, and Tillie bursts out laughing.
“Did you just call my brother sexy?” I ask. “Wanna tell me what you’re talking about over here?”
Delaney spins to face me and scowls.
“We weren’t talking about Henry. We were talking about… Billy Bob Thornton. Obviously, he’s older now, but when he was young? Mmm, really hot.” With a half-smile and a mischievous sparkle in her eyes, she looks smug as hell.
“Yeah, a younger Billy Bob just had something about him,” Tillie adds.
I shake my head at them.
“I don’t even have the words,” I mutter in their direction. I do my best to appear disgusted. “I’m disappointed in you two. I thought you both had better taste than that.”
Obviously, I’m referencing myself to see if Delaney reacts. She’s careful not to let her facial expression betray anything, but she can’t hide the flicker of surprise in her eyes.
“Go play cards,” Tillie orders with a laugh.
I walk away, shaking my head. “Billy Bob Thornton?” I mumble to myself.
I’m only back at the card game with Layla for a few minutes when the little sneakster somehow manages to win her third out of five games in our Crazy Eights mini-tournament. She jumps up and does her “winner dance,” which she does every time she wins a hand.
“I want a do-over!” I protest.
“No, Uncle Harry. You lost fair and square.” Layla’s tone is firm, but amused, and she doesn’t even bother to stop her dancing, which is more of a general bouncing around.
“Ladybug, I am very good at Crazy Eights. I always won against my brothers growing up. Even Grandma can’t beat me. There’s no way I lost. Something must’ve happened. Not that I’m accusing anybody of keeping extra cards or anything.”
Layla abruptly stops moving and huffs. She fixes her eyes on me.
“I didn’t want to have to say this again, but you’re a poor loser.” Layla shakes her head at me. “It’s a bad look on you.”
A sputtering behind me has me turning to find Delaney and Tillie standing just a few feet from us, watching my saucy six-year-old niece put me in my place.
I turn back around, scoop up the cards, and neaten the pile while I fight back a smile. That’s when Layla walks over and pats me on the back. She’s clearly trying to comfort me.
“You’re right. I don’t like to lose,” I admit to her.
She leans toward me and whispers—though not quietly enough—“If you want Delaney to be your girlfriend, you can’t act like a bad loser. She’ll never wanna play games with you.”
I glance over my shoulder, and Delaney is staring at us wide-eyed with her mouth ajar. A few feet away, Henry and Tillie exchange knowing glances, clearly amused.
Not one to waste a great assist like Layla just set me up with, I go in for the score.
“You’re probably right. So, I need to make her think I’m okay when I don’t win, if I want her to like me?”
Layla grins. “You’re getting it now.”
“All right. Thanks, Ladybug.”
“I got you,” Layla assures me.
When I stand and peer over at Delaney, the sweet smile on her face as she watches Layla gives me hope. Maybe a damn cute six-year-old wingman is exactly what I need to help my Bets see there’s something here.