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“We’re getting a little ahead of ourselves here, but sure. You’ll be godmother to all my babies. Including the company.”
She straightens her back and holds her hand up in salute. “Your business is safe with me, Captain!”
I laugh at my quirky best friend, knowing that I’m truly blessed to have someone like her in my life. Then I get back to packing my suitcase and going over the work schedule for while I’m gone. It’s not easy leaving the business I’ve built from the ground up in the hands of someone else, but I know she’s up for the challenge. Now, all I have to do is get to the port on time and figure out a way to make Nate understand my insecurities and forgive me. One is easy, the other requires bearing my soul and trusting he won’t crush it. Nowthatis terrifying.
NATE
After I thank the Uber driver, I straighten up and sling my duffel bag over my shoulder, scanning the crowd at the dock for Delaney’s flaming-red hair. It’s been almost three weeks since Thanksgiving, and the only contact I've had with her is a single email containing the cruise itinerary and a handful of anecdotes about our ‘relationship’. I replied with a simple thank you then sat there and thought about her all day.
And all night.
And every moment since.
I feel like she’s everything I want but can’t have. The fact that the couple we have presented to the world so far is different from the people we are is the single greatest hurdle we face. Sure, I could play the part of Liam in front of her family for the rest of my life if I needed to. But how is that going to bode well for the longevity of a relationship between the real me and Delaney? There’d be this constant undercurrent of fear that we slip up and her family would find out, and it would end up tearing us apart. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned about Delaney Gilchrist, it’s that her family means everything to her. She literally created a fake boyfriend so she wouldn’t have to offend them by telling them to back up off her with their insistence she get married and have kids in the next five minutes. I swear, it’s all her mother hinted at whenever we spoke.
Honestly, I don’t know why Delaney does it. Besides her aunt and Tommy, I don’t see a lot of true caring between those people. It’s just a bunch of poor fitting masks with fake smiles and selfish intentions, sponging off an old woman’s generosity. They should be ashamed of themselves.
It doesn’t take long before my eyes find their target. Delaney’s hair shines bright in the sun, attracting me like a beacon. The time away from her has given me a chance to reflect on what happened between us at Thanksgiving, and to make some decisions about how I need to separate my desire from my work going forward.
Did I overreact when she called me the wrong name when we were messing around? Maybe. Probably.
Did I make it clear that I wanted her as a man and not as her character? Maybe. Probably not.
And that’s probably where my mistake lies. I assumed she understood how I felt about her, while she just thought I was playing a part. The end result, I felt cheap. I felt used. I felt misunderstood. And honestly, I’ve had enough of that in my life.
The best course of action from now until the end of this cruise is to keep things completely professional between us. I’m not willing to live a lie all my life, so if there are any feelings toward me on her side, she’ll need to come clean with her family first. Otherwise, we just can’t be.
I want her so much it boils my blood, and as much as we all say that when it comes to love, we’re willing to do anything for it, in the great words of Meatloaf, ‘I won’t do that.’ I won’t pretend to be a dentist called Liam for the sake of her greedy family. For me, it’s all or nothing. Call me cruel, call me stubborn, or even call me stupid, but as far as I’m concerned, in matters of the heart, if you don’t have honesty, you don’t have anything at all.
“Hey.” Delaney does a nervous tuck of her hair as she smiles up at me when I approach. She’s wearing a peacock blue and fuchsia patterned kaftan dress that’s cinched in at the waist and looks like summer on a cold but sunny day. She’s also got a thick coat on that seems at odds with the tropical fabric, but that’s also in a bright fuchsia and matches her ensemble perfectly. I’m also starting to think fuchsia is her favorite color since I’ve seen it on her a couple of times now.
“Hey, yourself.” I offer her a smile before I take a hold of her hand and lace our fingers together. Her eyes go to our joined hands then back up to mine. I give her fingers a gentle squeeze to let her know we’re OK. “Still want to go through with this?”
“Want and need are two very different things,” she says, her tone sounding somewhat relieved.
“So no plans to come clean and tell them who I really am?”
“Oh, lord. No. I couldn’t. They’d be so upset with me. And Aunty Joan…I can’t admit I lied to her.” She lowers her voice to a whisper on that last part, and it’s really all I needed to know.
“OK. Liam it is. Let’s just keep things professional this time so we know where we stand. Does that work for you?”
Her eyes drop to our joined hands again. I can’t tell if she’s disappointed or wishing I’d let her go. “If that’s what you want.” Her eyes return to mine. “Should we lay down some ground rules? Maybe that’s where we went wrong before. It’s something I probably should have thought about when I emailed you.”
“Ground rules…I think…yeah, let’s agree to some of those. In public we’re together. In private, we’re not. Hand holding is obviously OK.” I lift our hands in example.
“OK.” She licks her pretty lips as she scans the surrounding crowd, no doubt checking to make sure none of her family members are in hearing range. “And what about dancing? We’ll need to touch and embrace so we look appropriatelyintoeach other. If we’re suddenly not all touchy-feely like we were at Thanksgiving they’ll for sure know something is up.”
“Do you ever get tired of worrying about what they’ll think?” I ask suddenly, unable to hold back.
Her mouth drops open but quickly closes as she frowns and searches my eyes. “What do you mean?”
“Exactly that. Don’t you just want to tell them to get fucked so you can live your own life on your terms?”
She gasps. “They’re myfamily.”
“And if they weremyfamily,” I say, leaning in close to her ear. “I’d tell them to get fucked.”
“Well, they’renotyour family,” she snaps, pulling her hand from mine. “And if that’s the way you feel then maybe you—”
