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She locks eyes with me and nods like I’ve finally broken through to her.
“We tend to pick up on things subconsciously without realizing it all the time. Even if you think it’s silly, you hit me up.”
“Okay, okay.” Her lips quirk up. “Or what? Daddy’s going to yell at me again?”
I stare at her.
Every single word in my brain twists into a garbled mess because between talking about taking her over my knee before and now her calling me Daddy, I’m pretty sure any hint of a rational thought just rolled out of my goddamned ears and hit the ground.
Miss Janelle laughs, resting a thin hand on Delilah’s arm.
I remember when her hands used to be smooth. Now they’re starting to wrinkle, stretching thinner between the tendons with every passing year.
“Don’t mind Lucas,” Janelle says. “He’s always been like this, ever since he was a kidlet. He’s like a cherry bomb. Big old bang, then he fizzles out.”
“Hey now.” My face goes hot. I scrub a hand over the back of my neck, grunting and looking away. “Ma’am, I’m on duty. Kindly don’t file my edge off.”
“And you’re still Lucas Graves, fancy uniform or not. Same boy I’ve known since you were knee-high to a sunflower,” she answers with tart amusement. “I love you, boy, but I won’t have this girl thinking you’re some sort of big bad wolf with a badge.”
“Oh, trust me,” Delilah trills, her eyes glittering with delight, “I don’t see any wolf. I’m not afraid of him.”
“Don’t you start, too, dammit.” I grumble. “Look, I don’t care if it’s two in the morning and I’m flat on my back from a plate of bad nachos. Call me. I’ll come.”
For a moment, Delilah falters.
She glances at me with those long, fringed lashes around her wide eyes. I wonder how young she really is when that cynical façade makes her seem wise beyond her years.
Even if she’s only twenty-something, she’s still a girl—too young for my thirty-six-year-old ass, that’s for sure. She’s also flushed, startled, and so wickedly pretty I want to hoist her up like a fresh plucked wildflower and inhale her.
Better, devour her.
My eyes are still glued to her as she looks away.
“I’ll remember that,” she says softly. “Does my house include ‘lonely places?’”
Shit.
That’s a good question.
“It’s awful isolated,” I say slowly. “Not sure I like you being halfway in the woods, though you’re still in sight of your neighbors. Make sure you lock up tight at night. Maybe put in an alarm system. It wouldn’t hurt to get a friend to come stay with you, if Miss Nora or someone else doesn’t mind.” That’s when the meaning of the suitcase propped against her hits me. “Hold up. You’re planning on moving in today?”
She pats the suitcase with one hand.
“All packed and ready to go.” With a rueful glance at that hateful X on the wall, she adds, “Sorry I’m leaving a mess in my wake. Janelle, I can give you something to have that painted over if you—”
“Absolutely not, hon,” Miss Janelle says sharply. “It’s covered in the town repair budget. This is a historical building.”
“Oh, nice!” She beams back an uneasy smile.
It’s not hard to tell Delilah doesn’t know what to do with kindness. Seems like it flusters her far more than rudeness or aggression or the shit I keep giving her. Why?
She fumbles out a “Thank you.”
I’m about to fluster her some more, though.
“How about I head out to the house with you and take a good look around? I can help you carry some of the heavier stuff inside while I’m there.” I flex my bicep for good measure until she laughs.
Then for some odd reason, she won’t look at me, her cheeks still pink and her lower lip caught between her teeth.
“If I say no, you’ll just follow me out there for my own protection, won’t you?” she throws back.
“Maybe, maybe not. Hard to be sneaky if I admit it out loud.”
“Hard to be sneaky if you walk into another latte shake, too.”
Damn her, I laugh, shaking my head and reaching for her suitcase. “C’mon. Let me get that for you.”
I’m actually surprised she listens.
We say goodbye to Janelle, and Delilah doesn’t escape without a mama bear hug that winds her. I don’t get away without getting my ear tweaked as Janelle demands a stern promise to protect “our girl.”
Gotta say something for Redhaven hospitality.
Once we decide you’re one of our pack, you’re family.
As I haul Delilah’s suitcase into her packed Kia and find a spot to wedge it in, she frowns at me.
“Lucas?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you really think Roger has anything to do with Emma’s death?” she asks. “Or do you think it’s something else?”
Something else, I think instantly, but I keep my mouth shut.
Things carry a little too far in this town.
