Page 107 of Pour Decisions
“Good,” she said as he deposited her on her feet, and shestepped back to rub her bulging abdomen. “But little one is hungry.”
“Food is almost ready,” Lena said, and I genuinely had no idea which one of the women she was until she turned, their hair and body shapes so similar it was difficult to discern who was who.
But I didn’t see mine.
A light tap came at my shoulder, and I turned.
“Looking for me?”
I grinned. “Hey, Whiskey.”
“Hey, QB.”
I shuffled toward her, feeling like a teenager hanging out with his crush for the first time, unsure what to do with my hands. Delia made the decision for me, reaching out and wrapping her arms around my waist. I fell into her, settling my hands on her hips and pressing my body against hers.
“Am I allowed to kiss you?” I whispered.
“I think you better,” she told me. “Or my family will start asking questions.”
I needed no further encouragement, and though it wasn’t the consumption I wanted to perform, the light, chaste press of my lips to hers was enough to quell the bulk of my anxiety.
“You told them?”
“Of course I did.”
“Does your dad want to kill me?”
“I think in the hierarchy of Daddy’s favorite sons-in-law, you’re firmly at number two.” I raised a brow, and she added, “Logan, you, Cal.”
I chuckled. “As long as I’m beating out Cal, I don’t care. Also…” I trailed off, leaning closer to place a kiss on her neckright below her ear. “Sons-in-law?”
Delia giggled. “Call it a pre-empt.”
God, how badly I wanted this woman to be mine in every possible way. I knew we were trying to take things slow, but I wanted her to take my last name, to be the mother of my children, to be the one I grew old with. And I wanted it allnow.
Even though their time together had been cut short, what my parents had was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of love. The sort of relationship I’d looked up to and searched for my entire life. They were truly partners in everything, two halves of the same whole. Losing a loved one was difficult under any circumstances, but the loss of my dad cut my mom so deeply because she’d lost a part of herself. It was why she hadn’t dated since nor had any plans to. My dad had been it for her, and giving even a piece of her heart to another would’ve dishonored his memory in her eyes.
I wanted that. And I felt confident saying I’d found it with Delia.
Still, I couldn’t quite shake the melancholy that had me in its grip as we wandered deeper into the kitchen in the direction of the dining room and conversation swirled around us. In addition to Cal, Logan, and much to my dismay, Alfie, I was surprised to find Ezra, his son Hansen, father Rik, and Liam Danvers had all been invited to celebrate the holiday with the Delatou family. The house was bursting with love and laughter, but I couldn’t fully let myself enjoy it.
It was the anniversary of Dad’s death, and the knowledge that he was no longer here still hit just as hard as it had seventeen years ago.
I think Delia knew something was up with me, because shetried her hardest to keep me occupied and entertained. Truthfully, all I needed was her. I would’ve been happy to curl up in one of our living rooms with a bottle of bourbon and the lights off. But I never strayed far from her, needing her within reach, grounding me.
At last, we sat for dinner, and several conversations started at once, each section of the table breaking into groups to discuss various happenings in the family, business, and Apple Blossom Bay. I sat quiet in the middle of it all, like I had those weeks ago when I’d first attended a Delatou family meal, simply letting the camaraderie wash over me. I silently ate my food and did my best to participate in conversation when a question was directed at me.
Particularly when Leon Delatou pinned me with those emerald green eyes.
“How’re things at the distillery coming, son?” he asked.
I perked up, something tugging loose in my chest at his term of endearment. How long had it been since I’d had a man call me that? Probably not since the first time a coach had done it after my dad died and I lost my shit on him.
“Things are good, sir,” I said, reaching under the table to grip Delia’s hand. In an instant, all other conversations at the table died, attention wholly focused on us. “We should be able to open in three weeks?” I shot Delia a questioning look.
“Two, actually,” she said happily.
“Hell yeah, man!” Cal said, slapping me on the shoulder. “Can’t wait to try some of what you’ve been brewing up.”
