21. Della
DELLA
Monday night ended with me looking like a freak. I was so close to kissing him when I was inches from his face. But then my thoughts got in the way.
What if I am as bad as Tripp made me out to be? How much would I embarrass myself in front of someone like Jaxon?
Then I fell on him, felt his dick, and completely freaked out. I wouldn’t be able to do anything with that thing. Not in the way that he’s probably used to.
Throughout the week, aside from our morning sunrise moments, I only see him sporadically because the first wave of employees has started arriving, and he is in full prep mode.
There is an exhilarating anticipation in the air as more and more people fill the ranch, and it’s such a neat thing to be part of.
As for me, besides the awkwardness I’m oozing every time I’m around Jax, I’m feeling fantastic.
As menial as it seems, I’m so proud of the work I’m doing, and I’m loving it here more than I ever could have imagined.
It’s been an interesting balance of newfound friendships, a crush that I can’t get enough of, and a hobby I’ve been afforded the opportunity to throw myself back into in a way that wouldn’t ever have been feasible in any other capacity.
I guess it could have been if I had taken my father’s advice of being Tripp Worthington’s trophy wife, but then I would have lost my soul, so it's not the same.
The fact that I found my way back to my happy place on my terms is everything to me.
I’m rocking out and painting the downed tree from my first trail ride.
I haven’t been back on a horse, and I’m not sure I’ll ever get back on, but I’m okay with it.
At least it’s giving me some inspiration.
I’m in such a good mood, singing and dancing around, pretending my brush is a microphone, not caring that paint is splattering on my drop cloths, when a knock on my door surprises me.
Throwing on a t-shirt to cover up the sports bra I’ve been dancing around in, I answer it, and Jaxon is there, leaning back on the porch railing.
“There you are,” he says with a broad smile.
Last Sunday, I moved everything out of luxury cabin three and into long-term rental fourteen.
I’m not comfortable taking that housing as a hand out, so I’ll be paying rent.
I almost laughed when I found out how cheap it was.
I payed double that for a space half as big when I lived in Chicago.
Luckily, I didn’t have to move too much, but it still took a handful of car trips back and forth.
I look around, racking my brain to remember if we had plans, but I’m admittedly distracted by how good he looks right now.
He’s got a button-up shirt on, tight jeans, and a legit belt buckle showing.
He smells heavenly; his hair is perfect.
This has got to be the equivalent of Sunday best for a cowboy.
He’s not going on a date, is he? It’s my turn to be jealous, apparently.
“I’m not mad you’re here or anything, but was I supposed to be expecting you?” I ask.
“No, I just have something for you before I grab my ma. It’s boys’ date night. How do I look?”
My heart melts at the reason he looks this good.
“That is the absolute best. How lucky is she to have you?” I’m soaring for him, but there’s also a little voice in me that cries out in jealousy.
I’ve put in the work on how to live beside my grief, and even though it’s ever-present, over time, the things that trigger me are more predictable, fewer, and farther between.
But sometimes it still hits without warning.
And I’m triggered.
I miss my mom. Date days and nights with her were my favorite. I can’t help the wobble of my lip as I nod my head.
“Del, you good? I swear I just heard you screaming the lyrics to a song.”
“I was enthusiastically singing,” I defend myself, as my body tries to decide if it wants to laugh or cry.
“What’s wrong?”
“Honestly, I’m just so touched you’re taking your mom out. I miss mine,” I smile tightly as I feel a tear fall.
“You can come if you want to,” he offers, reaching out to touch my shoulder, bringing my eyes back to him. “I’m sure it would be fine.”
If he hadn’t just told me it was for the boys, I would take him up on that, but not now. “No, I’m painting, and it’s for you and your brothers. Your mother is so lucky, and one day, in some universe, I hope I have boys to take me to dinner too.”
“They will,” he says, pulling me in for a hug. I try to push away because I don’t know what paint is on me, and I don’t want to ruin his shirt, but he just grips me tighter. I’m not sobbing, but a few more tears escape before I force him to let go.
“So you didn’t come over here to watch me cry, what’s up?” I say, wiping under my eyes.
“No, I was hoping to bring you a smile,” he says, picking up something from his feet behind him. “This is a thank you for the migraine help the other day.”
He holds out a beautifully wrapped gift.
“I’m not accepting this,” I say. “I literally brought you a relief cap and a rice pillow.”
“And an orange drink. And medicine. And made my packets. And sat with me for a bit. It’s just a little something, Del. I insist,” he says, placing it in my hands in a way that would be odd if I tried to hand it back.
“Aren’t you going to open it?” he asks excitedly with a boyishness that makes me smile. Yeah, if I am ever blessed with boys one day, I want them to be just like this man in front of me; head to toe, inside and out.
“Okay,” I say, and slowly unwrap the crinkly tissue paper. But when I see what it is, I look back up.
“No, Jax,” I say. “A little something is a chocolate bar or a candle. This is a Christmas-level gift. The kind where you get one thing and are happy about that single thing because you wanted it so badly.”
In the bag, there are the acrylic paints I use: the expensive, heavy-body ones. Over the last two weeks, I’ve purchased two sets to cover my color needs, but this is an expensive expansion: iridescent ones.
“Rose told me which ones you had, so I thought maybe this might be a good one to go with. I love seeing what you come up with, Del. This is for you as much as it is for me.”
I look at him in disbelief because I feel seen.
So fucking seen.
In a way that I cannot even describe.
He not only went to the store, but he also had the wherewithal to ask Rose instead of just guessing what to buy, and then bought paints I never would have. These kinds of colors are icing on the cake, and eventually I would have picked them up, but that would have been quite a bit from now.
“This is so thoughtful,” I say. “Thank you.”
He grabs me by the waist and pulls me so I’m flush against him, leaning into the cradle of his hips.
The way he’s looking at me like I’m the thing he wants most, paired with the sureness of his big hands holding me, makes my nervousness disappear.
When our heads drift towards each other, he hesitates for a split second, and looks beyond me, pulling his head up and sighing the biggest sigh I’ve ever heard in my life.
Following his gaze, I see his father riding the trail in a golf cart, none-the-wiser, but I step back. It’s a good thing because he stops right in front of us.
“Hey, kids,” he says, as if he’s unaware that he just stopped the moment I’ve been gathering courage to try again since night one. “I’m doing a final lap before tomorrow. How are you liking the long-term rental, Della?”
I chuckle because are you fucking kidding me? Maybe this is the universe saying no.
“It’s fantastic, thank you so much, Dale,” I reply.
“Wait, Jaxon, aren’t you supposed to be with Mom?”
“Sure am,” he says. “I just had to drop something off first.”
“Well, get going, she’s probably waiting on you!” he scolds him.
The moment is over, and Jaxon steps off the porch to show he’s leaving.
“Tomorrow is the first staff social in the event barn. You’re coming, right, Della?” Dale asks.
“Yep, planning on it!” I say while internally committing to finding something irresistible to wear.
His dad waves and drives away before Jaxon turns back to me.
“It’s one of my favorite nights, and you’ll get to meet some of the other staff besides wranglers and ranch hands. The bakers, the onboarded grounds crew, housekeepers, guest experience concierges, and a few more.”
“God, Jax, that’s got to be tough to keep straight.”
“It is a lot. I was actually thinking about how irritated I am that you came to town right before high season. My free time isn’t what it was a month ago. It’ll open up again soon, though, I promise.”
But I’ll be gone, the disappointing thought flies through my head.
“It’s fine,” I follow up with. “I’m meeting lots of great people… and I’m excited to meet more tomorrow!”
“After, a group of us usually end up at The Rusty Lantern, so be prepared for that, too,” he warns, stepping on the running board right before he gets in.
“Oh, I’m always ready for that,” I say, laughing.
I just hope he’s ready for me.