31. Owen
The following Thursday, after spending yet another weekend with my cock buried deep inside Delia and a few days of work wherein I accomplished nothing of note, I approached Leon and Lena Delatou’s front door.
“Are you shitting your pants?” Cal asked from beside me. “I’m shitting my pants.”
“Yes!” I hissed on a laugh. “Why are we so nervous? It’s not like we’ve never met these people before.”
“I mean, I can’t speak for you,” Cal said, shifting uncomfortably on his feet, “but I’m pretty sure Leon still hates me for getting his daughter pregnant.”
“But you love her, right?”
“Of course I do. More than anything.”
“Then that’s all that matters,” I said with a shrug.
His eyes narrowed on me. “And do you love Delia?”
“I might,” I said noncommittally. “But I’m not going to give you a straight answer before I tell her that.”
Cal clapped me on the back. “Good man.”
With a deep breath, I reached out and pressed the doorbell. The sound echoed through the house, followed by a shouted, “I’ll get it!” from one of the girls.
A moment later, the massive oak door swung inward to reveal Brie, a bright smile and swipes of flour decorating her face.
“Hey guys!” she said, stepping aside and welcoming us in. “We’re all in the kitchen. Mar! Lia! Your man friends are here!” she shouted as she took off back in that direction.
With a shared look of exasperation, Cal and I followed along.
The spacious kitchen was utter chaos, and I paused at the threshold to take in the scene.
The massive island was laden with numerous dishes, steam and scents of delicious food curling in the air around the heads of the six Delatou women.
Down the hall, I could hear the sounds of a football game blasting over the surround sound, and for once, that pang of longing didn’t pierce my chest. The Mustangs always played in the Thanksgiving game, and though I watched—if only to give Jalen shit afterward—it always made me a bit melancholic. Now, though, I was just happy to be here, surrounded by this warm and inviting family.
When Cal and I entered, Amara unceremoniously dropped the hot dish she’d just pulled out of the oven on the stove to cool, then ditched the oven mitts and ran into Cal’s arms. He caught her easily and swung her around in a circle, peppering her face with kisses.
“How are my babies?” he whispered.
“Good,” she said as he deposited her on her feet, and she stepped back to rub her bulging abdomen. “But little one is hungry.”
“Food is almost ready,” Lena said, and I genuinely had no idea which one of the women she was until she turned, their hair and body shapes so similar it was difficult to discern who was who.
But I didn’t see mine.
A light tap came at my shoulder, and I turned.
“Looking for me?”
I grinned. “Hey, Whiskey.”
“Hey, QB.”
I shuffled toward her, feeling like a teenager hanging out with his crush for the first time, unsure what to do with my hands. Delia made the decision for me, reaching out and wrapping her arms around my waist. I fell into her, settling my hands on her hips and pressing my body against hers.
“Am I allowed to kiss you?” I whispered.
“I think you better,” she told me. “Or my family will start asking questions.”
I needed no further encouragement, and though it wasn’t the consumption I wanted to perform, the light, chaste press of my lips to hers was enough to quell the bulk of my anxiety.
“You told them?”
“Of course I did.”
“Does your dad want to kill me?”
“I think in the hierarchy of Daddy’s favorite sons-in-law, you’re firmly at number two.” I raised a brow, and she added, “Logan, you, Cal.”
I chuckled. “As long as I’m beating out Cal, I don’t care. Also…” I trailed off, leaning closer to place a kiss on her neck right below her ear. “Sons-in-law?”
Delia giggled. “Call it a pre-empt.”
God, how badly I wanted this woman to be mine in every possible way. I knew we were trying to take things slow, but I wanted her to take my last name, to be the mother of my children, to be the one I grew old with. And I wanted it all now .
Even though their time together had been cut short, what my parents had was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of love. The sort of relationship I’d looked up to and searched for my entire life. They were truly partners in everything, two halves of the same whole. Losing a loved one was difficult under any circumstances, but the loss of my dad cut my mom so deeply because she’d lost a part of herself. It was why she hadn’t dated since nor had any plans to. My dad had been it for her, and giving even a piece of her heart to another would’ve dishonored his memory in her eyes.
I wanted that. And I felt confident saying I’d found it with Delia.
Still, I couldn’t quite shake the melancholy that had me in its grip as we wandered deeper into the kitchen in the direction of the dining room and conversation swirled around us. In addition to Cal, Logan, and much to my dismay, Alfie, I was surprised to find Ezra, his son Hansen, father Rik, and Liam Danvers had all been invited to celebrate the holiday with the Delatou family. The house was bursting with love and laughter, but I couldn’t fully let myself enjoy it.
It was the anniversary of Dad’s death, and the knowledge that he was no longer here still hit just as hard as it had seventeen years ago.
I think Delia knew something was up with me, because she tried her hardest to keep me occupied and entertained. Truthfully, all I needed was her. I would’ve been happy to curl up in one of our living rooms with a bottle of bourbon and the lights off. But I never strayed far from her, needing her within reach, grounding me.
At last, we sat for dinner, and several conversations started at once, each section of the table breaking into groups to discuss various happenings in the family, business, and Apple Blossom Bay. I sat quiet in the middle of it all, like I had those weeks ago when I’d first attended a Delatou family meal, simply letting the camaraderie wash over me. I silently ate my food and did my best to participate in conversation when a question was directed at me.
Particularly when Leon Delatou pinned me with those emerald green eyes.
“How’re things at the distillery coming, son?” he asked.
I perked up, something tugging loose in my chest at his term of endearment. How long had it been since I’d had a man call me that? Probably not since the first time a coach had done it after my dad died and I lost my shit on him.
“Things are good, sir,” I said, reaching under the table to grip Delia’s hand. In an instant, all other conversations at the table died, attention wholly focused on us. “We should be able to open in three weeks?” I shot Delia a questioning look.
“Two, actually,” she said happily.
“Hell yeah, man!” Cal said, slapping me on the shoulder. “Can’t wait to try some of what you’ve been brewing up.”
“Distilling, Ryder,” Amara said. “What they’ve been distilling . ”
“Semantics,” Calvin said, then glanced at her. “Bet you wish you weren’t pregnant right now.”
“You’re the one who got me like this!” she shouted, tossing her napkin at his face.
Chloe, who was also pregnant, glanced up at Logan. “I, for one, don’t mind being pregnant.”
“Because you can’t drink liquor anyway,” Ella quipped from her other side.
“Remember your senior prom when you got so wasted on peppermint schnapps we had to sneak you in the backdoor of the school and into the gym just so you could attend?” Amara chuckled.
“God, don’t remind me,” Chloe said, gagging. “I still can’t go near anything with mint.”
“I’ve never heard this story,” Leon said.
“That’s because she puked it all up before we made Brie come pick us all up,” Amara said with a snort.
Both Delatou parents whipped their heads to Brie. “You were thirteen!” Lena shrieked.
Brie shrugged. “Still knew how to drive.”
Lena huffed a sigh out through her nose. “You girls are the reason I have grey hair.”
The daughters exchanged glances and promptly burst out laughing, but it was Leon who spoke.
“You’ve never had a grey hair in your life, woman.”
Lena cut him with a glare. “Don’t even get me started on you .”
“ Anyway ,” Delia said. “Everything is up there, I just need to start staging.”
“You want some help?” Chloe asked. “I’ve got some free time now that I’m not on deadline.”
“You’re also pregnant,” Logan reminded her.
“I know that!” Chloe shot back. “I’m not going to be doing any heavy lifting, but I can help with little stuff.”
“I can help too!” Lena piped up. “I need to get out of this house and do something besides listen to your father drone on about fishing.”
“I beg your pardon?” Leon said to his wife, hand coming to his chest like he’d been wounded.
“I love you, honey,” she said absently, “but I don’t care about trout or pike or tuna or whatever.”
“There aren’t any tuna in the Great Lakes,” Leon grumbled, and I fought back a chuckle.
“I’ll happily talk fishing with you anytime, Leon,” Logan said brightly, and my laugh burst free at last, along with everyone else at the table.
Leon smiled widely, pointing his fork at Logan. “That’s why Daniels is my favorite.”
“Fishing aside,” Delia said, once again pulling the conversation back to the distillery. “We’re planning on hosting a little soft open in a few weeks. I’m thinking the thirteenth.”
“We are?” I hissed at her.
“Oh, did I forget to tell you?” she asked with an overly sweet smile.
“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Lena said, clapping her hands together. “We can make it a whole party.”
Delia cursed softly next to me, and I looked down at her quizzically.
While Lena ran away with the party idea, looping Brie into a conversation about pastries, Delia quietly said, “I should’ve known better than to bring that up in front of my mom. There’s nothing that woman loves more than throwing a party, and I have a feeling our soft opening is about to become a lot grander.”
“She could turn it into the Met Gala for all I care,” I told her as I bent and pressed my lips to hers. “As long as you’re at my side.”
“Always,” she promised.
“Get a room!” someone—Cal—yelled, and I pulled away from her, grinning sheepishly at her parents.
Lena had hearts in her eyes while Leon glared daggers at me.
Honestly, that felt pretty par for the course, and I didn’t mind one bit.
After dinner, Ezra, Hansen, Rik, Liam, and Alfie all left, and the rest of us retired to the back deck. Though it was cold as hell out, an array of heaters and a massive fireplace, logs crackling and sparking with flames within, kept the chill away. Delia and I curled up on a loveseat together, a blanket tucked around us, my hands drawing idle circles on the skin of her lower back. Around us, her family was in various stages of winding down, though Ella and Brie were playing some sort of card game that involved a lot of slapping each other’s hands. It was probably the most animated I’d ever seen the second youngest Delatou girl, and I had to admit, it was a good look on her. Even with the pink hair and fingers decorated with delicate tattoos, Ella more closely resembled her sisters with a smile on her face.
“What's the deal with Ella and her boyfriend?” I asked Delia quietly.
“You picked up on that?”
“Hard not to,” I said. “The way he acted at Birdie’s that night was appalling, and the way he treated all of you when he came to Lawless? He’s lucky I didn’t punch him in the face.”
Delia snorted but said, “I’m glad you didn’t. It only would’ve made things harder for her.”
“Why is she even with him?”
Delia sighed heavily, her entire body rising and falling in my arms. “She’s always been more free spirited than the rest of us. Alfie is a singer or rapper or something—albeit a terrible one—and I guess when she met him, she felt a kinship with that side of him, with the artist he apparently is. Now, I just think she’s afraid to leave, afraid to give up on something she’s given so many years to.”
I hummed in understanding. “She reminds me a lot of my sister in that way. I know growing up with six older brothers who messed up more often than not wasn’t easy. She had a habit of sticking with things even when she was miserable because she didn’t want to be seen as a failure. My mom struggled a lot after Dad died, and Aria tried to make herself as small as possible, not wanting to add to Mom’s stress.”
I had always secretly hoped that she’d grow out of that one day, that she’d take chances on the things that made her happy instead of doing something because she thought she was supposed to.
“How come you didn’t go home for Thanksgiving?” Delia asked suddenly, apparently jumping ahead on a train of thought inside that beautiful brain I’d clearly missed. “Why didn’t you go see them?”
“Well…today is the anniversary of my dad’s death,” I said quietly. Delia gasped softly but didn’t speak, so I pressed on. “It’s just too hard sometimes. To go back there and feel his memory everywhere, like a ghost that won’t let go. I miss him fiercely, and I’m happy to have those memories, but…I can’t afford to spiral again, you know? I’ve been doing so much better since I moved up here. It’s difficult to think about going back and potentially ruining all my progress.
“Plus, with the distillery—and you,” I added with a poke to her ribs, “I haven’t really had time.”
“Did you talk to them about coming out here for the opening?”
“They don’t really have the time either,” I said. “They’re all busy with their own lives and jobs.” I pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “But it’s okay. I’ll see them soon, I’m sure.”
Delia lifted her head and placed a kiss on my chest, right over my heart and the coordinates tattooed there.
“When you’re ready, QB,” she said, burrowing deeper into me, “we’ll do it together.”
“Do what?”
“Go to Dusk Valley.”
“You’d do that for me?”
She tilted her face up to mine and said, “Haven’t you figured out by now that I’d do anything for you?”
“Back at you,” I said hoarsely.
“Plus, I’m part of your family now, just like you’re part of mine.”
“Am I really?” I asked.
She shrugged and nonchalantly said, “I sure hope so,” though the tightness around her eyes told me my answer meant more than she was letting on.
The Delatou family was certifiably crazy, but they weren’t so different from mine. A mass of children, the female counterparts to my nearly all-male one. Parents who loved fiercely. Significant others who would burn the world down if it would make their girl happy.
Yeah, I fit in perfectly around here.
I dipped my head and captured her mouth with mine. Against her lips I said, “I love you, Whiskey, and they’re part of the package.”
With a wide grin, she kissed me back, whispering, “Good answer. And I love you too.”