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“I’m home now, woman. No plans on winding up stuffed into an almost-grave again. And I’m a little disappointed you stuck with that SEAL psychology-mercenary project.” I pause as her eyes search mine. “Couldn’t you write a damn good paper on a chick who falls head over heels for her jackass stepbrother?” I grin.
Goddamn it feels good.
She sticks her tongue out.
“You wish. That’s a little too personal, but I promise you there’s plenty of passion in what I wrote.”
“Yeah, whatever, babe. Of course I’m gonna read it.”
She instantly flushes and snaps away from me. “What? No way! That’s for my professor and his stuffy journalist friends. And the university archives, I guess. Not for your amusement.”
“Like hell. We both know it’ll wind up somewhere online. You said he’ll probably shop it around to papers and journals, right?”
Her simmering silence tells me the answer.
“Come the hell on, Miss Reporter. You’re too good to keep your stuff hidden, and we’re done hiding in the shadows.”
We laugh. Then she tells me about her latest misadventures with Marnie.
Apparently, it’s been a part-time job helping her friend navigate the first real relationship she’s ever had with some dude who’s only partly tangerine. Looks like we’re not the only ones getting bit by the love bug.
“Oh yeah,” she says, pursing her lips as she looks at me. “There’s more news—you won’t be my stepbrother much longer.”
“I heard. Already told your old man to do what he can to keep his money away from Ma before she gets serious help. Maybe there’s a custodial account or something to help pay for the treatment,” I say.
“Good call. It was so terrible, Chris, the way everything imploded... Then Evie just ghosted, running off to who knows where until she started siccing her lawyer on him. It sounds like she ponied up the money for a good one. But Dad’s lawyers are better—supposedly the best you can buy. I just wish he didn’t have to pay a dime for so much misery. Can you believe they were only married for five months?”
“He’ll be fine,” I tell her, throwing an arm around her again. “I think the man would pay through the nose to have my mother out of his life, too, and who can blame him?”
She smiles sadly.
Then it really hits me.
With Bruce in my corner, there’s no one left to convince we deserve our forever but the beautiful brown-eyed minx in front of me.
That should be a dream come true—and it is—but it’s also more serious than any other mission I’ve had in my life.
“What’s up? You look like you’ve got something on your mind,” she whispers, laying her head on my shoulder.
“Just thinking about what we’re doing once I’m discharged,” I whisper in her ear, skimming my fingers up her side. “It’s been too long, Delia. If I didn’t have to worry about re-breaking a bone or whatever the fuck, I swear to God...”
“Yeah. I can’t wait,” she whispers excitedly.
If only she knew I don’t just mean having her under me.
Because the day I leave this hospital, I’m marching straight to the bank when she isn’t looking, where I’ve got my vault.
My grandma’s ring is there, and with one small adjustment, I’m sure it’ll be Delia’s size.
I’m glad as hell Gram kept that on the down-low. Ma never knew about it and couldn’t just pawn it off for drug money or another cruise to hunt down her next man toy.
Sure, I thought about buying her something more modern, whatever comes with the biggest diamond I can afford while I was rotting away in that cell.
But diamonds grow on trees in this town of loaded rich dicks, and so do designer rings.
Delia deserves nothing but the best.
There’s no other ring on the planet like this one, an intricate and beautiful design fit for royalty.
