Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 119548 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 478(@250wpm)___ 398(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119548 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 478(@250wpm)___ 398(@300wpm)
I kicked my feet against the sofa cushion again, then slid my hands up to his face, laying them against his cheeks, and kissed the tip of his nose. “You’re the best.”
“Oh?” He shifted slightly. “Is that how you thank the best husband ever?”
There was a teasing glint in his blue eyes, one that made my breath catch. This was the most playful he’d been since before Nana had died, and something about the twinkle in his gaze made the hair on my arms stand on end.
I’d been so wrapped in my grief for so long that I’d almost forgotten that I could feel other things.
That I did feel other things.
Mostly for this man beneath me.
He was the one who held me up before I knew my legs would give out. He held my hand and guided me before I ever knew I was lost.
Any strength I possessed was carried entirely on his shoulders.
My best friend.
The person I knew better than anyone—who knew me better than anyone.
For a moment, I remembered something that had lived quietly at the back of my mind, deep in my soul, softly in my heart. Something that had simmered along, strengthening with every wipe of my tears, every smile, every hug, every word.
Before I’d experienced the worst heartbreak of my life in losing Nana, I’d been falling in love with Fred.
And now, lying here with him surrounded with the bubble of who we used to be, I brushed my thumb across his cheek and dropped my gaze to his lips.
“Why? Do you want me to thank you properly?” I asked in a low voice.
He startled, and the teasing glint in his gaze darkened. His arm wrapped around my body tensed, and his fingers pushed against my hip, pressing into the soft flesh there.
“Delilah.” His gravelly tone was tinged with warning—one I’d heard before when I’d pushed it too far.
But as my heart skipped a beat, I didn’t care.
I had so much more to thank him for than he knew.
“Thank you,” I whispered right before kissing him.
Fred froze as my lips touched against his.
Really froze.
He didn’t move an inch.
His fingers didn’t twitch, his jaw didn’t clench, and he didn’t kiss me back.
He simply lay there, completely still, as our lips lingered together.
Well.
My lips lingered on his.
When he made no move to respond, half the blood in my body rushed to my cheeks. They burned hot as embarrassment spread through me, and I pulled back.
He stared at me, eyes wide, stony-faced, and that was all I needed to tell me the truth.
I’ve fucked up.
“Pretend that never happened,” I whispered thickly, shoving myself away from him. His arm was still around me and briefly tightened, but I accidentally elbowed him in the chest in my hurry, and he grunted.
Spice jumped off the sofa at his deep moan, and I took the chance to make my escape.
“Deli!” Fred shouted after me, but I slammed the door behind me, shutting both him and Spice inside, and ran for the front door.
I grabbed my keys from the hanger, slid my feet into my trainers—thank God for elastic laces—and hightailed it out of Hawthorne House.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.
29
* * *
FRED
“Deli!”
The door slammed with an echoing finality that made me flinch. I almost tripped over Spice as I clambered up off the sofa, but by the time I got there and pulled it open, the rumbling echo of the front door slamming closed told me everything.
“Shit!” I ran after her, yanking the front door open. “Delilah!”
Her car was gone.
I sank my fingers into my hair and turned around to see my mother standing in the middle of the hallway in her pyjamas, her hand deep in a massive bag of ready salted crisps. She stilled when I laid eyes on her as if I’d caught her doing something naughty.
“Crisp?” she asked, holding the bag out towards me.
I stared at her blankly for a moment, then shoved the front door shut and walked back towards the living room, tugging my phone from my pocket. I texted Lucy to let me know if Deli showed up at her place, got bombarded with sixty questions about what I’d done this time, and tossed my phone to the side.
“Moo.”
I stared at Spice. “Don’t look at me like that,” I said, oddly unnerved by her large, black eyes. “It’s not my fault.”
“Moo.”
Was I seriously talking to a cow right now?
Fuck.
I lay back on the sofa and threw my arm over my face, covering my eyes.
Delilah had kissed me.
Not a little one. Not a passing peck on the cheek. A proper gentle, warm press of her lips against mine. The very thing I’d dreamt about numerous times since our wedding day, and what had I done?
I’d frozen, and I’d obviously made such a horrific expression that she’d felt the need to run out of here completely.