Page 70 of Need You
Chapter Thirteen
The next morning, Delaney got out of bed, padded across the hallway to her studio, and checked the window for Colt’s cruiser. It wasn’t there. The poor man never caught a break.
She planned to check the online version of the paper to see if they’d found the little boy. But the shade installers were coming and she didn’t want them to catch her in her nightgown.
She quickly got ready, went downstairs, and put on a pot of coffee. While waiting for it to brew, she fired up her laptop and searched for the story. According to the news, they’d found the boy at five a.m., huddled under a tree about three miles from where his parents had lost him. He appeared to be fine but was transported to a local hospital to be evaluated. Thank goodness it was summer. In winter, he would’ve frozen to death.
It had certainly been a long night for Colt. She thought about what he’d said, how he wanted to sleep with her. Never before had she been as physically attracted to a man as she was to Colt. But they were both tender from their last relationships. Not a good time to get involved, especially because she’d be leaving soon.
The doorbell rang, pulling Delaney from her thoughts. The shade installers. While the men worked upstairs she ate her breakfast and kept one ear open for Colt’s car. At around ten Hannah called.
“You want to meet the gang for lunch at Old Glory?”
Delaney wasn’t exactly sure who the gang was. Probably Deb and Foster. She agreed immediately, hoping that the installers would be done by noon. She changed into a long, flowy skirt, a ruched crossover top, and a pair of sandals, then accessorized with an assortment of sterling silver bangles on one arm. What the hell, she thought, and even put on a full face of makeup. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, she looked like the woman she’d been in LA, before everything went to hell with Robert.
Happy and confident.
She supposed some of it was due to Colt’s attraction to her and, bizarrely, also due to the cargo pants. It felt marvelous to finally complete a project from beginning to end and to actually be proud of the results, even if they weren’t the couture designs that had made her famous.
She went to check on the progress of the workers and found that they had finished and were cleaning up. One of the installers demonstrated how to open and close the shades with the remote control. Nice and easy, and now she’d be able to work into the night with her drafting light on.
She waited for them to leave and walked into town, enjoying the last days of summer. The temperature hovered in the midseventies, and even from a few blocks away Delaney could see the edges of Lake Paiute, the wide expanse of the Sierra Nevada range, as well as the chairlifts going up and down the mountainsides. That’s how clear it was.
She’d miss this in Los Angeles, where the air felt thick and dirty and hung over the city like a dark film. When she arrived at Old Glory, Hannah, Deb, and Foster had already gotten a table and a large plate of pub fries.
“Hey,” Hannah greeted her. “Check it out.” She stood up and modeled a black and white color-block dress that had been part of Delaney’s Every-Day summer collection from last year. Delaney could objectively say the dress was stunning, and on Hannah, amazing.
“Wow,” Delaney said. “You could’ve been my runway model. The dress is fantastic on you.” And here she was getting excited over a pair of silly cargo pants.
“Thanks. I bought it last year when I first got it in the store, and thank goodness I did, because I’m dropping the line now that you’re no longer the designer.”
“I appreciate the loyalty, but you should still carry Delaney Scott if it sells well.” Even if they’d be Olivia’s designs.
“What’s this I hear about you making kick-ass cargo pants?” Deb asked. “I want a pair.”
“You do?” With Deb’s gorgeous figure she could make a gunnysack look good. Just the same, Delaney couldn’t understand why she’d want to wear something as shapeless as cargo pants. “Come over and let me take your measurements.” Perhaps she could make a pair that would accentuate a woman’s curves as opposed to hiding them.
“Seriously? I was being presumptuous, but I do really want a pair.”
“Then come over and you’ll get a pair.”
Deb clapped her hands together like it was Christmas.
“Win alert at twelve o’ clock,” Foster said. Deb tried to act uninterested, but Delaney caught her sneaking a peek.
“He’s seeing a blackjack dealer in Tahoe,” she said. “Whatever. I’m so over him.”
Delaney didn’t think so, not the way Deb followed him with hungry eyes. He’d come in with a few men Delaney had never seen before. Guys about Win’s age, late twenties, early thirties, some wearing Glory Junction Search and Rescue T-shirts.
“Did you hear about the little boy who got lost?” Hannah asked.
“Colt was at my house when he got the call about it.”
Three pairs of eyes examined her as if she’d been holding out on them.
“What’s going on with you two?” Hannah asked. “Colt seems to be hanging out with you a lot.”
“We’re neighbors. Occasionally, we’ll have a drink together on one of our decks. No big deal.”
