Page 106 of Pour Decisions
“I love your house,” he said suddenly, pulling me back from the slumber I was about to drop into.
“I worked really hard on it,” I told him, voice thick with fighting sleep.
“It feels like a home,” he mused. “I think, maybe, when the time comes…I’d like to live here. If you’ll have me, of course.”
“And give up your place on the lake?” I asked, eyes still closed, though my heart thumped rapidly at the idea of building a home—thishome—with him. “What about privacy and security?”
“Apple Blossom Bay is different from TC, Whiskey. And like you said, you worked hard on this place. There’s plenty of room for us both, and I don’t want you to have to give it up.”
“I would for you,” I said, rolling over to face him. “We could find a place that’s ours.”
Owen shook his head. “Not necessary, my girl. This is perfect.”
I burrowed deeper into his chest, sighing contentedly as I once again drifted off.
There was something so soothing about him calling me “my girl,” a sense of belonging I hadn’t experienced in my life up to that point.
“I think I love you,” he said quietly, his lips in my hair, dropping a kiss to the top of my head.
“I think I love you too,” I whispered, then promptly fell asleep with a smile on my face.
The following Thursday, afterspending yet another weekend with my cock buried deep inside Delia and a few days of work wherein I accomplished nothing of note, I approached Leon and Lena Delatou’s front door.
“Are you shitting your pants?” Cal asked from beside me. “I’m shitting my pants.”
“Yes!” I hissed on a laugh. “Why are we so nervous? It’s not like we’ve never met these people before.”
“I mean, I can’t speak for you,” Cal said, shifting uncomfortably on his feet, “but I’m pretty sure Leon still hates me for getting his daughter pregnant.”
“But you love her, right?”
“Of course I do. More than anything.”
“Then that’s all that matters,” I said with a shrug.
His eyes narrowed on me. “And do you love Delia?”
“I might,” I said noncommittally. “But I’m not going to give you a straight answer beforeI tell her that.”
Cal clapped me on the back. “Good man.”
With a deep breath, I reached out and pressed the doorbell. The sound echoed through the house, followed by a shouted, “I’ll get it!” from one of the girls.
A moment later, the massive oak door swung inward to reveal Brie, a bright smile and swipes of flour decorating her face.
“Hey guys!” she said, stepping aside and welcoming us in. “We’re all in the kitchen. Mar! Lia! Your man friends are here!” she shouted as she took off back in that direction.
With a shared look of exasperation, Cal and I followed along.
The spacious kitchen was utter chaos, and I paused at the threshold to take in the scene.
The massive island was laden with numerous dishes, steam and scents of delicious food curling in the air around the heads of the six Delatou women.
Down the hall, I could hear the sounds of a football game blasting over the surround sound, and for once, that pang of longing didn’t pierce my chest. The Mustangs always played in the Thanksgiving game, and though I watched—if only to give Jalen shit afterward—it always made me a bit melancholic. Now, though, I was just happy to be here, surrounded by this warm and inviting family.
When Cal and I entered, Amara unceremoniously dropped the hot dish she’d just pulled out of the oven on the stove to cool, then ditched the oven mitts and ran into Cal’s arms. He caught her easily and swung her around in a circle, peppering her face with kisses.
“How are my babies?” he whispered.
