Page 82 of Bartholomew
“Oh, I think I like her,” Gideon chuckled, immediately putting fork to plate as soon as Delilah served him a piece of the delicious Italian dish.
“Listen, I know it’s not the most enjoyable thing to talk about, Kai, but the quicker we can move forward on this plan, the quicker we can get the hell out of here,” Levi pushed again. I wanted to throttle him.
“Dude, maybe just let us eat a little food before we start pushing?” I suggested, but he wasn’t about to be stopped.
“Normally I would, but Kai keeps dragging his feet, and that keeps pushing this timeline out farther and farther. Tell me you don’t feel a sense of urgency after sitting through those meetings yesterday.” Levi’s words had merit, of course they did, but he didn’t have to be so bull-headed about it.
“All I’m saying, Levi, is that maybe jumping down someone’s throat before the meal has even been served might not be the most tactful way of handling things,” I shot right back at him. “I mean, I get that we all love going down someone’s throat, but come on.
“Well, well, well! Look who’s getting ballsy in his marital state,” Kai teased, shoveling a bite of lasagna into his mouth. “Fuck me, Ollie. I might forgo the whole arranged marriage shit and steal your wife. This is delicious, Delilah.” His praise had her blushing up a storm, which only made me want to make the blush spread down the rest of her body. Fuck, I needed to keep my libido under control until these nimrods were out of my house. Not that Ruth was a nimrod, of course. But still.
“He’s right. This is incredible, Delilah,” Levi agreed.
“Thank you. All of you.” She blossomed under the praise of my family.
I could visibly see the way it built her confidence. I leaned over, planting a kiss on her cheek, and whispering in her ear, “It tastes almost as good as you do, love.” Fuck, there was that word again. Her blush bloomed brighter than ever.
“Excuse me,” Zeke exclaimed suddenly, pushing his chair back loudly and bolting out of the room. My brothers and I kept eating, used to his odd outbursts, but Ruth and Delilah both looked on in the direction he had left. He had gone down the hall, all of us hearing the door to my study slam shut a moment later.
“Is he okay?” Delilah asked quietly, leaning into me.
“He’ll be fine. Just a thing he does sometimes,” I explained.
“Zeke is an odd duck. Best to leave him be in peace,” Malachi agreed.
The table grew quiet, only the sounds of chewing and forks scraping on plates filling the silence in the wake of Zeke’s abrupt departure. Delilah pushed the last few bites of her serving around on her plate before abruptly standing from the table and heading off toward Zeke.
“Excuse me,” I muttered to the table, going after her. “Hey, Delilah,” I stopped her halfway down the hall.
“I need to go check on our guest,” she explained.
“It’s best to just leave him be, love.” Fuck, why couldn’t I stop saying that?
“That may be okay with you, but this is my home too, and he is also my guest. I want to make sure he is okay.” I rolled my eyes a little as she continued down the hall to the study. I followed after her, deciding it was best to let her have her way and find out firsthand that Zeke simply didn’t want to be bothered.
“Zeke?” Delilah called out softly, knocking on the door before opening it. Zeke sat in one of the chairs, head in his hands looking like he was in pain.
“Are you alright?” she asked softly. I stood in the doorway, watching the situation unfold.
“I’m sorry for my rude exit, Delilah,” my brother answered, sounding like his words were barely pushed out through gritted teeth.
“Don’t worry about that! I’m more worried about you. Are you alright?” Delilah reiterated. Her tone was soft and kind, almost soothing.
“Nothing for you to worry about,” Zeke pushed out again.
“It doesn’t look that way to me. Is there something I can do? Are you in pain?” she questioned. She kept her hands to herself, giving him space. I watched, noting the fact that everything about her — her soothing tone, her presence — emanated motherly love. That thought hit me like a punch to the gut, nearly knocking the wind out of me. I could picture it: Delilah as a mother. The mother of my children. It was clear as day, the image of her running around after a toddling little one, her stomach round with our second child.
What the fuck, Ollie? My own inner voice chastised my thought process. It was almost physically impossible to shake the idea from my mind. I felt stunned. I didn’t want to think about a bunch of little Ollie look-a-likes running around the house. I didn’t want to think about having children. For fuck’s sake, I hadn’t even been married a month. I ran a hand through my hair, wishing I could pull the thoughts from my head.
“How can I best support you right now, Zeke? Do you want space? Or I could just sit here with you in silence? Or is there something else?” Her quiet and unobtrusive support for my brother only fueled the thoughts running through my head.
“You’re a kind woman, Delilah,” Zeke muttered, giving her a pained smile. “My brother doesn’t deserve you.”
Zeke’s words went in one ear and out the other as my mind continued fixating on the image I had created.
“I’m okay, though. I just need a few minutes of peace and quiet if that’s alright,” Zeke finally admitted. Delilah took his hand, squeezing it in a comforting gesture.
“Then that’s what you shall have. Please let me know if you need anything,” she offered, standing and making her way back to me. “Let’s rejoin the rest of our guests.”
