Chapter Twenty-Nine
DELANEY
The vibes of Maddox Hatten’s bar hit me the second I pushed through the door—noise layered over itself, laughter erupting somewhere to my left, a glass shattering on a wooden surface, and voices rising and falling without any real pattern.
Heat wrapped around me next, carrying the scent of something coming from the kitchen, and my stomach tightened in response, reminding me I hadn’t eaten in hours.
We hadn’t fully cleared the doorway before the staff began setting up tables for us.
A chair scraped against the floor, and a table edged sideways as staff moved it into place.
Another table followed, and you could see the space opening up in real time for us.
This was so typical of Ruby River—the way a room reorganized itself around the people who needed it.
While we waited for the server to deliver our drinks, I took a quick look at the menu. Maddox and his girlfriend, Alice, who I hadn’t seen in ages, each ran food trucks during the day and made a limited bar menu available at night and on weekends.
Maddox was behind the bar when we came in—tall, broad chest, oversized biceps with a sleeve of tattoos down both arms, and gorgeous, curly, auburn hair.
He looked like he was a secret enforcer for the mafia until he turned his attention to Alice.
Then his face lit up with the biggest smile.
It was easy to see how much they loved each other.
Maddox appeared with our server when she delivered our drinks.
“Kingsley,” he said to Marc. “Heard it was a night.”
“Word travels fast.” I knew it was true, but to see it happen this quickly was just another reminder for me.
“Welcome to Ruby River, where the only thing hotter than the chowdah is the gossip,” Grace laughed.
“The first round’s on me tonight,” Maddox said. “I hope things go your way with the grant committee.”
Theo and Marc both acknowledged Maddox with quiet thank you’s.
Within minutes, Alice, with a dish towel slung over her shoulder, pushed through the crowd, a huge smile on her face. Maddox watched her progress with narrowed eyes, ready to pounce on anyone who didn’t let his girl through.
“Delaney Hart! I’m mad at you.”
I grinned and stood. “Alice Lidelle. I’ve missed you!”
We hugged the second she got close enough.
“Why did we lose touch?” she asked, pulling back far enough to look at me.
I shook my head. “Because we’re idiots?”
Adele and I had been friends for years, and part of our summer group, just like Alice. She and I shared a bond only kids like us could understand—absentee parents and aunts who stepped in to help raise us. Our lives had always seemed to run parallel.
“I’m sorry to hear about your Aunt Lanie,” I said. “She was incredible. I was so sad to find out that she’d passed, and I missed her funeral.”
I stepped back from Alice and found Marc directly behind me. His arm came around my front, banding across my chest, pulling me back against him—not possessive, something steadier than that. An anchor. My stomach flipped.
Alice had been there for all of it—every summer, every argument, every time Marc and I had gone head-to-head growing up.
Her gaze moved between us, lingering just long enough to take in the way I leaned into him. A grin tipped her lips, her cheeks rounded in happiness. She gave me a small nod. One that said, I see it. I’m happy for you.
The acknowledgement barely had time to settle before sadness flickered through her eyes.
“And I’m so sorry to have missed Auntie Jem’s services.
The food truck competition is doing another season, and they wanted Maddox and me to be judges.
We were on set for a few weeks around the time she’d died. ”
My throat tightened as I nodded.
Alice sniffed. “It still hits hard. I know.”
Maddox slipped an arm around her waist, and I was so happy my friend had found someone to love and support her.
“Alice! We need you in the kitchen,” someone called out over the noise.
“Duty calls. Please don’t be a stranger, Del.” She gave my arm a light squeeze before she and Maddox headed back to their respective stations.
Marc tightened his hold on me, as his lips found my ear. “Doing okay?’
I turned within his arms and snuggled in. “Yeah, I think so.”
He kissed the top of my head, and we lingered like that for a few minutes before taking our seats. Somehow we’d ended up at the center of the table without us planning it, but I had a strong feeling that our friends had done so on purpose.
I know Marc. He’d wanted to retreat and lick his wounds in private. And I could respect that to a degree. I’d let him do it all this week. But this was different. Now it was time to let the people who loved him show up in the way they always did.
I’d been watching for the past fifteen minutes and the way people organized themselves around him without anyone fully deciding to.
His parents had shown up to the shelter yoga class because they’d known he’d needed them.
Same with Grace, Drew, Wyatt, and Ellie.
Even Josh made an appearance after an offhand comment from Marc about the classes and the grant riding on this particular one.
And Glamma—the instigator, meddler—had planted herself there every single week.
They just came. To the yoga class. To this bar. Wherever he needed them, they would be.
Maddox dropped a fresh round of drinks onto the table, nudging a glass closer to me, like I’d always belonged. “Delaney, you’re going to want to try this one,” he said, already moving on before I could answer.
Grace leaned over a second later, bumping her shoulder into mine. “Scoot in—you’re part of this madness too. I need you to back me up.”
Just like that. No hesitation. I shifted closer, sliding into the space they made for me—no idea what I was agreeing to, only that I wanted in.
Marc sat in the middle of it, laughing at something Drew said. Wyatt talked over him, and Ellie chimed in—and it all spoke of the easy love and affection between his family and friends.
And then—without looking—Marc’s hand found mine under the table.
Like it was just what we did.
Something in me loosened. This quiet knowing that I’d held tight onto the feeling of not belonging longer than I should have.
I’d spent months watching for signs. Waiting for something—anything—to tell me I’d made it. That I was allowed to stay. My gaze flicked between them—Grace already pulling me into the next conversation, and Ellie smiling at me like I’d been here all along.
I hadn’t been standing on the outside. I’d just been holding myself there, and a gentle peace flowed over me. I hadn’t been waiting for this town to choose me. I’d been the one hesitating. And somewhere along the way—between showing up, staying, and choosing Marc—I’d stopped needing permission.
Marc’s thumb brushed over mine, and I tightened my grip, grounding myself in it.
And Marc had met me there—exactly as I was. No conditions. No expectations. And somewhere I’d done the same.
A quiet laugh worked its way up my throat. All this time, I’d been trying to earn something that had been given freely from the start. I just hadn’t been ready to accept it.
Marc leaned in close. His mouth near my ear, his voice low enough that it was only for me. “Thank you,” he said. “For tonight. For making this happen.”
I leaned into his shoulder. “You needed your people around you.”
“I know.” His thumb moved across my knuckles. “I didn’t know that though, not until you decided for me.”
The noise of the table surrounded us—Grace laughing at something Josh said, Drew and Ellie with their heads together looking impossibly sweet, and Adele and Wyatt pretending to ignore each other at opposite ends of the table.
And Marc looked at me like I mattered to him. Looking like maybe he felt the same way I did. Like maybe he felt his heart was at home with me.
“You would have figured it out,” I said.
“Eventually.” The corner of his mouth tipped up. “You’re just faster at seeing that.”
“It’s why we make such a great team. We’re there when the other needs us.”
He placed a gentle kiss on my lips. “I think you’re right. And later tonight, I’ll show you exactly how much I appreciate that.”
His voice dropped on the last words, sending a shiver of anticipation down my spine.
Holy shit. Later tonight couldn't come fast enough.
Then Josh drew Marc into a conversation with his parents. He was so incredibly lucky to have them all.
We were halfway through our food when I decided to run to the bathroom. On the way back, I stopped at the bar to grab some water.
As I stood and waited, Grace slid up next to me.
I smiled. “Hi.”
“Hi,” she said, returning my smile. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“And you won’t take it the wrong way?”
I swallowed. My body grew cold, and I had to press my hands into my thighs to help hold me up. Was this when she told me the family actually didn’t think Marc and I were right for each other? “I can try.”
Grace’s eyes widened. “Oh shit. You look like you’re about to throw up. Are you okay?”
I waved her on. What I needed was for her to say her piece. “I’m fine.”
“Okay,” she said, clearly not believing me. “What are your intentions with my brother?”
“Jesus.” I wiped my sweaty palms across my pants. “I thought you were going to tell me I wasn’t good enough for him.”
Grace just stared at me. “No, never. Why would you think that?”
I almost told her. All of it—growing up as an afterthought, learning early on that love came with conditions and distance, arriving in Ruby River carrying someone else’s legacy and being terrified of it failing.
“Just a habit," I said instead. “Ignore me.”
Grace thankfully let me off the hook.