Discovering Delilah (Harborside Nights, Book 2)(43)

My eyes fill with tears knowing that today my stomach will twist into worse knots than it already has, and I’ll be nervous the whole time she’s there. It’s selfish. I know how she feels about me. She surprised me with a wet suit for goodness’ sakes, and left it on my bed with a card that said, I wish I were always with you to keep you warm. She cares about me a lot. I can feel it every time we’re close. She said she saw how cold I was the other morning and she couldn’t stand to see me shivering. She was actually mad at the guys for not giving up their own wet suits. She’s so cute. I think there’s a protective side to her, similar to Wyatt’s, but she’s buried every feeling so deeply that she probably doesn’t even realize it’s in there somewhere.

I can’t wait to discover more about who she really is. I want to know everything about her, and I want her to know everything about me.

The shower curtain opens and Delilah peeks in. She’s told me that she’s never showered with anyone before, and this is another one of her baby steps. That’s what she calls them, even though I know they’re gigantic steps, and I’m so proud of her for trying that tears sting my eyes again as I reach for her hand.

I never cry, and Delilah brings tears to my eyes by stepping into the shower? I’m in deep trouble.

She crosses her arms over her chest and looks at me with a sweet, embarrassed wrinkle of her brow. I kiss the worry lines away as I back her under the warm water and fold her into my arms. I feel her apprehension ease as the rigidity in her limbs dissolves and she becomes soft and pliable once again.

My Delilah.

I’m falling for you, Delilah.

Your vulnerabilities and your insecurities and your strength to try to push through them. I’m falling for your sweet lips that are pressing against my shoulder and your gentle caress as you stroke my back. I’m falling for your voice, whispering in my ear.

“Do you mind that I’m in here?” Delilah asks so tentatively. I’m surprised she can’t feel in my touch how much I want to be with her.

“No. I always want you with me.”

I’m falling for the way you make me feel full and whole and like a girly girl and a lover and your best friend. I’m falling for the way you’re turning my body so I’m beneath the warm spray, too.

I close my eyes and pull her close without telling her any of these things, even though keeping them inside is like trying to keep a lid on boiling water. I don’t tell her because it’s Thursday, and she needs Thursdays, even if they scare the shit out of me.





Chapter Thirteen


~Delilah~

WHEN I DRIVE Ashley to the beach to meet Drake for her surfing lesson, it makes me feel even more like we’re a couple. It’s a small thing, driving her to her lesson, but it feels like another level of commitment, another level of opening my closet door and sticking my toe out. Testing the waters. Granted, there aren’t many people here yet, but there will be soon.

I’m glad Ashley doesn’t mind if I tag along. I like watching her, and I feel better knowing that she has her wet suit to wear. I was working when she got home and found it on the bed. She called me when she opened it, and I could hear her sniffling over the phone. I’m not sure if she knew I could hear her, but I did. Ash is so strong all the time that hearing those emotions took me by surprise. Just like this morning when I joined her in the shower. I could tell that she was upset when I first joined her, even though she told me she was fine. I felt her holding something back. But she never pushes me, so I didn’t press her about what it was. I assume she’ll tell me when she’s ready.

I brought my sketch pad so I can draw while Ashley works with Drake, but I can’t concentrate on anything except watching her. I bury my feet in the sand, set my sketch pad aside, and bury my hands in her sweatshirt pockets. I’ve claimed this sweatshirt as my own. Not that she cares. I think she’d let me borrow anything, just like I’d let her.

Drake’s really patient with her as Ash wipes out a dozen times or more, and he’s right there to help her out. I’m glad, because even though she can totally handle herself, having him there keeps me from wanting to run into the surf to help her myself. All these unfamiliar emotions keep tumbling forward, like wanting to be the one to help her in the water and not being able to get enough of her when we’re alone. I always thought couples were kidding about that overwhelming desire to ravage each other. I couldn’t imagine it. Now it’s hard not to.

She’s so cute, and she keeps glancing over at me and laughing. I’m sitting a good distance away because I didn’t want to distract her, but I think I am. Her laughter is better than the sound of the ocean or the gulls, or any other sound I’ve ever heard. I know I’m not going to sketch a darn thing, and part of me wonders if my sketching was filling a gap in my life for all these years. I love to sketch, but having a sketch pad and pencil used to be like extra limbs, always with me, at the ready. Now they often feel like accessories that don’t match my moods.