She gasped. “You did what?”
“I. Fired. Him,” I said, enunciating every word.
“Why?”
“The way he spoke to you, for starters,” I said, my jaw clenching, remembering the way I’d allowed him todo so. God, if I was her, I’d punch me in the face. Hell, if a man had spoken to my mother or sister like that in my presence, I wouldn’t have hesitated to do so.
I really was an asshole.
“And because his vision wasn’t working. He only wanted to work withOwen Lawless, the star quarterback. Not Owen Lawless, the businessman.”
Delia’s head dipped toward the ground as she said, “His vision sucked ass.”
Unable to stand seeing her fold in on herself like that, I stepped closer, tucking my finger under her chin and lifting her face up. Touching her was dangerous, surely a gateway drug to deeper sensations, to lingering and intimacy, but I couldn’t stop myself.
“It did,” I agreed, staring straight into her eyes. “Your ideas are honestly incredible, Delia. I’m sorry for how he acted, and for not putting a stop to the whole thing before we got that far. This is your baby as much as it is mine, and it wasn’t fair for me to make that decision without you.”
Delia blinked slowly, her breath that smelled of cinnamon and sugar filling the air between us. Her tongue peeked out, the tip brushing along her lower lip. Everything in me tightened. My chest, my skin—my cock. I sucked in a breath and held it, not moving, waiting to see what she’d do next. And willing my cock to stand down.
After another beat wherein she moved almost imperceptibly closer, she heaved a lungful of air…and took a step back.
“Thank you,” she said quietly, tucking her hair behind her ears, her eyes darting everywhere but in my direction. I didn’t miss the way her hands shook, and I relaxed into the knowledgethat our moment affected her exactly as it had me.
“How did you find me?”
“I called Amara,” I said.
She groaned. “She needs to mind her own business.”
“She cares about you,” I said with a shrug. “And if it makes you feel better, she handed me my ass.”
“Good,” Delia said, but the word sounded anything but.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
Her eyes flicked to mine then. “I can’t do this with you every time we need to make big decisions,” she said in a rush. “All that shit Amara went through with Cal not believing in her and doing his level best to get her removed from her own company? Please, just…don’t do that to me.”
She seemed to choke down the rest of what she wanted to say, and I was desperate to hear it. This conversation was important for reasons I probably hadn’t even realized yet.
“I won’t,” I promised.
“I know you weren’t exactly…excited about working with me, but I promise I’m taking this seriously. Probably the most serious I’ve ever taken anything. This distillery and our partnership is something I am one hundred percent invested in, and I need you to believe that too. I’d never do anything to fuck it up.” She paused for a moment, fists clenching and releasing, as though weighing what to say next. When she spoke, her words were softened. Quieter. More vulnerable. “You have your other businesses to fall back on, but for me…”
She trailed off, but I wasn’t letting her off the hook that easily.
“For you, what?” I pressed.
“This kind of feels like my one shot to prove I can do morethan just take pretty pictures and make fun videos. That I can be a businesswoman like Mar and Brie, or creative like Ella and Chloe. If this fails…”
My heart softened, knowing that feeling of inadequacy all too well. On paper, I was wildly successful. But stacked up against my brothers? It was no contest. I’d only ever been good at throwing a football and getting smoked by guys twice my size. That was nothing compared to the actual heroics those guys performed.
One day—maybe—I’d share all of that with Delia. But this wasn’t about me. This was about assuring her I trusted her, I believed in her, and we were going to make this work.
“This is an equal partnership,” I said softly. “We make decisions together or not at all. Deal?”
Delia nodded, her lips curving upward slightly. “Deal.”
“Now I know you haven’t been sitting here stewing in your rage all day,” I said, stalking across the room like I lived there and dropping down onto her small but surprisingly comfortable sofa. “So tell me what you’ve been planning.”
