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“I’d say.”
I cover the last two steps, which leaves only a few feet between us. Leaning her backside against the railing, she says, “I never thought I’d see you again, but here you are, looking like all sorts of trouble in all black.”
Little flowers against a white background, straps that wrap over her shoulders . . . I shouldn’t like the sight of her as much as I do. “I like your dress.”
Her cheeks pinken like the color of my mom’s roses in her backyard. “Well, are you gonna give me a proper hello, Jason Koster, or are we going to pretend we never danced in the moonlight?”
There’s my Delilah.
He didn’t destroy her.
“No pretending over here.” I go to her and wrap my arms around her, my eyes closing, my senses on high alert. She always awakened all of me, and today is no different as my whole body responds to her. Vanilla with a hint of orange—the perfect combination. She smells so good, like home and sunshine. But she’s not my home to lay claim to anymore.
I feel her cheek rub against my neck before she lowers back on her feet and our arms return to our sides. Her eyes are cast down when she steps back. I want to lift her chin, to touch her again just to feel the surge through my body, but I don’t.
“I’m all wet.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” It sounds like it is too. When she finally looks up, she asks, “I heard you were back and had to see for myself. What brings you by the farm?”
Gossip. It spreads as fast as a phone call in this town.
I rest my shoulder against the column, smiling that she tried her best to hide that curiosity when she and Billy drove by yesterday. “Figured I should since rumors were going to be spread anyway.”
“So you came by to nip it in the bud or to start the rumor mill spinning?”
The right side of my mouth lifts higher. “Maybe a little of both.”
She smiles, but it falls quicker than it appeared. Her eyes are set on her toes, a dark pink dotting the nails of each. “You know, Cole’s going to hear about this.” The change is fast, her sunshine gone. Does she fear Cutler finding out that I visited?
“Not if you don’t tell him.”
Her gaze flashes to mine. “I don’t talk to him unless I’m court ordered.”
“What kind of court is ordering you to talk to him?”
The rain has become the most fascinating thing around when she turns away and reaches out to catch a few drops. “You’ve been gone a long time. I think you’ve forgotten what it’s like to live here.”
“Yeah. Maybe.” I reach out and take her hand in mine, bringing it under the shelter of the roof. Tapping the water that pooled in her palm, I say, “Maybe you can remind me.”
She pulls her hand away, the last drops falling to the wood floor. As if she caught herself in a compromising position, she backs away from me and gives me a cold shoulder. “You know,” she starts, staring out over the long drive leading up to the house. “It was good to see you, Jason, but I think it’s best if you go.”
What just happened? “Why?”
Her smile is gone, and an unfamiliar sadness creeps onto her face. She lowers her head for the third time in the past few minutes, and it looks all wrong on her. She moves across the porch, opens the screen door, and steps inside. “It’s getting late.”
Before it has a chance to slam closed, I catch it. “Talk to me, Delilah.”
I see her chest rise and fall with a heaviness that wasn’t there in the lighthearted moment we shared a minute earlier. “Don’t say my name like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you still care.”
“I do,” I reply too quickly to replace it with the lie I should have told.
“Then don’t.” She tugs the screen door, and I release it, letting it slam shut. “I think it’s best if you don’t visit me again.” She moves into the darkness of her house, and the front door is closed.
One lock.
Two locks.
One chain slides into place.
I’m tempted to ring the doorbell, but I’m in shock by the turn in her demeanor. Remaining there too long, I finally turn away when it’s obvious she’s not going to open that door again.
I mount my bike and start it, but before I drive away, I glance back at the house. She’s quick to hide to the side of the window, but not before I caught her spying. What’s going on? Why the sudden change? Is it Cutler? He scares her, but he doesn’t scare me.
I leave because I’m over being wet and the path to her farmhouse will become a mud pit if I don’t get out of here soon. I maneuver around the watery potholes on my way to the street. Once I’m on pavement again, I take off as if I have someplace I’m supposed to be. I don’t. Delilah made it clear I’m not welcome around here, so why stick around where I’m not wanted?
