26. Delilah
DELILAH
I wake up smiling.
That's the first surprise. Not the fact that I'm in Kane's arms, or that we're in a lake house in the Poconos, or that yesterday afternoon happened the way it did—but that I feel happy without reservation about all of it.
Kane's still asleep beside me, one arm draped over my waist, his face relaxed in a way I almost never see when he's awake. I watch him for a minute, tracing the line of his jaw with my eyes, memorizing the way his chest rises and falls.
Yesterday was easy. Shockingly easy. We drove here, unpacked, had sex that made my toes curl, and then spent the rest of the afternoon reading on the dock while the sun turned the water gold. No crisis. Zero arguments. Absolutely no reason to run or fight or prove anything to each other.
Just us.
I should be thrilled.
So why does the idea of doing it again today make my stomach twist up in knots?
Kane stirs beside me, his arm tightening around my waist. "You're thinking too loud."
"I'm not thinking anything."
"Liar." He opens his eyes and looks at me. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong."
"Then why do you look like you're planning an escape route?"
I swat his chest. "I'm not planning anything. I'm just—awake."
"And thinking."
"Fine. I'm thinking."
"About?"
I hesitate. Then I say, "About how yesterday was really nice."
His mouth quirks. "That's what has you looking worried?"
"I'm not worried."
"Lilah."
"I'm not. I just—" I hesitate. "I'm not used to things being easy with you."
"Do you want it to be harder?"
"No. I just don't know what to do with easy."
He pulls me closer, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "You could try enjoying it."
"I'm trying."
"Try harder."
I laugh despite myself. "You're not helping."
"I'm trying to help. You're just being stubborn."
"I'm not stubborn."
"You're the most stubborn person I've ever met."
"That's rich coming from you."
He kisses me before I can argue further, slow and thorough, and by the time he pulls back I've forgotten what we were talking about.
"Better?" he asks.
"Maybe."
"Only maybe?"
"I'm still thinking."
"Then I'm not doing my job right."
He rolls me onto my back and settles between my legs, and for the next twenty minutes I don't think about anything except how good his mouth feels on me.
By the time we make it downstairs, it's almost noon.
Kane goes to check in with the security detail stationed at the perimeter while I start unpacking the rest of the food I brought. Flour, sugar, eggs, butter. Priya's sourdough starter in its glass jar, still bubbling away happily despite the drive.
I should leave it all in the bags. We're on vacation. But my hands keep moving, organizing ingredients, checking cabinet space, planning what I could bake if I wanted to.
Which I don't.
I'm here to relax.
But relaxing feels wrong when there's a kitchen right here, fully equipped, just waiting for me to do something useful with it.
Kane comes back inside and finds me standing at the counter with my hands braced on the edge, staring at a bag of chocolate chips.
"What are you doing?" he asks.
"Nothing."
"Doesn't look like nothing."
"I'm just thinking about maybe making cookies."
"You don't have to make cookies."
"I know I don't have to. I want to."
"Do you?"
I don't answer.
Kane crosses to me and turns me around to face him. "Lilah. You're allowed to not work for one weekend."
"Baking isn't working."
"It's the same thing."
"It's completely different!"
"How?"
"Because I like it."
"You also like sleeping in and reading on the dock and letting me go down on you until you forget your own name. But you're standing here planning cookies instead."
My face heats. "You don't have to be crude about it."
"Call it crude if you want. I call it honest." He tips my chin up. "What's going on?"
"Nothing."
"Lilah."
"I just—" I stop. Swallow. "I don't know what to do if I'm not being useful."
The words come out quieter than I intended.
Kane cups my face in both hands. "You don't have to be useful. You just have to be here."
"But what if that's not enough?"
"It's enough."
"How do you know?"
"Because I already chose you. And I didn't choose you because you bake or because you're helpful or because you fix things. I chose you because you're you."
I want to believe him. But the urge to do something—make something, fix something, prove I belong here—sits heavy in my chest.
"Come outside with me," Kane says.
"I should unpack the rest of this."
"It can wait."
"But—"
"Lilah." His voice is firm. "It can wait. Come outside."
I let him pull me toward the door.
We spend the next hour on the dock, sitting side by side with our feet in the water. Kane doesn't push me to talk. He just sits there, solid, his hand resting on my thigh like an anchor.
Slowly, the discomfort in my chest begins to ease.
"Better?" he asks eventually.
"Yeah."
"Good." He leans over and kisses my temple. "Now stop thinking so hard."
"I'll try."
"Don't make me quote Yoda."
I shove him, and he catches my hand, lacing our fingers together.
We stay like that until the sun gets too hot, then go back inside and make sandwiches for lunch.
I don't suggest baking. Kane doesn't comment on it.
For a few hours, I manage to stop wondering what I'm supposed to be doing and just be.
Priya and Zara arrive at four, along with Anton, Niko, Yuri, and Stepan.
The house fills with noise almost immediately—Zara squealing as she runs toward the lake, Priya laughing, Niko and Yuri bickering in Russian.
I hug Priya, then Zara, then step back and watch everyone settle in.
Kane takes charge of showing the men where to put their bags. Priya heads straight for the kitchen, already pulling out ingredients for dinner.
I should help her.
But Kane's hand finds mine, and he pulls me toward the living room instead. "Come sit."
"Priya might need a hand."
"She's fine."
"But—"
"Lilah." He tugs me down onto the couch beside him. "Sit."
I sit.
But I can hear Priya moving around in the kitchen, and guilt gnaws at me. She drove all this way. The least I can do is help with dinner.
"I'm just going to check if she needs anything," I say, standing.
Kane catches my wrist. "She'll ask if she needs help."
"I know. But I should offer."
"Lilah." His voice is patient. "Sit down."
I sit. Again.
But five minutes later I'm up again, wandering into the kitchen where Priya is chopping vegetables and Anton is browning meat in a skillet.
"Need any help?" I ask.
Priya looks up. "I'm good. Go relax."
"I can peel potatoes or something."
"Delilah." Priya points at the door with her knife. "Go. Relax. Enjoy your boyfriend."
"But—"
"No buts. You invited us here so you could have a nice weekend. Not so you could work in my kitchen."
"It's not your kitchen. It's your cousin's kitchen."
"Which makes it Osborne territory. So get out."
I retreat.
But I don't go back to the living room. Instead I hover in the hallway, listening to Priya and Anton's easy conversation, feeling like an intruder in my own vacation.
Kane finds me there ten minutes later.
"What are you doing?" he asks.
"Nothing."
"You're lurking."
"I resent the implication that lurking is a thing I would ever do."
"Then why are you doing it?"
I throw my hands up. "Because I don't know what else to do!"
He studies me for a moment. Then he takes my hand. "Come with me."
"I should stay and help."
"They don't need help."
"But—"
"Lilah." His voice is gentle. "They don't need help. And you don't need to earn your place here."
"I'm not trying to earn anything."
"Then why won't you sit still?"
I don't have an answer for that.
Kane leads me back to the dock, and we sit in silence while the sun drops lower over the water. Niko and Yuri join us after a while, talking shop in a thread I don't follow. Kane contributes occasionally, but mostly he just sits beside me, his hand resting on my knee.
I should be relaxed. I should be enjoying this.
But all I can think about is the fact that Priya is inside making dinner while I'm out here doing nothing.
After ten minutes, I stand. "I'm going to check on dinner."
Kane doesn't try to stop me this time.
I go back inside and find Priya pulling a casserole dish out of the oven while Anton sets the table.
"Can I do anything?" I ask.
Priya gives me a look. "What did I say earlier?"
"I know. But I feel useless."
"Then go be useless with your boyfriend. He's the one you're supposed to be spending time with."
"I know. But—"
"Delilah." Priya sets the dish down and crosses to me. "The whole point of this vacation was so you could have a nice weekend with Kane. So stop hiding in the kitchen. He'll think you're avoiding him."
"I'm not avoiding him."
"Then what are you doing?"
I don't answer.
Priya softens. "You're allowed to enjoy yourself, you know. You're allowed to sit on the dock with your boyfriend and let other people take care of dinner."
I swallow. "I know. In theory."
"Good. So let the practice settle in." She squeezes my shoulder. "Now go before I ban you from the kitchen entirely."
I leave.
But instead of going back to the dock, I wander upstairs and stand at the bedroom window, watching Kane and the others talk.
He looks relaxed. Happy, even. Like he doesn't need me there at all.
Which is good. That's what I wanted. For him to enjoy the afternoon without me hovering.
So why does it bother me that he's doing exactly that?
I stand there for another five minutes, feeling stupid and selfish and completely unable to explain why I'm angry that Kane is having a good time without me when I'm the one who kept leaving.
Finally I go back downstairs and out to the dock.
Kane looks up when I approach. "Hey."
"Hey."
"You okay?"
"Yeah."
"You sure?"
"Yeah. Why?"
"Because you've been disappearing every ten minutes since everyone got here."
I cross my arms. "I was helping Priya."
"Were you?"
"Yes."
"Because it looked like you were avoiding me."
"I wasn't avoiding you."
"Then what were you doing?"
"I was—… I don't know."
Kane stands and crosses to me. "Talk to me."
"There's nothing to talk about."
"Lilah."
"I'm fine."
"You're not fine. You're upset."
"I'm not upset."