“I’d love to try your cooking, Delaney,” Baron affirms, and I pause what I’m doing to turn to my brother. “Is he staying for dinner?”
“Do you want to stay? You can.” I offer, but Bran shakes his head.
“No, you two should talk alone. I won’t interfere. But I’ll find a pub close by if you need me. This might be a prime time to call Mark and talk to him about some business,” he says with a warm smile, and I nod before Bran leaves the kitchen. Moving my phone to my other ear, I hold it with my shoulder before speaking up.
“No, Bran said he’ll go. I’ll text you my address. It’s not far from the hotel,” I say.
“Sounds good. I’ll see you in a few, love,” Baron replies before we hang up, and I quickly text him my address. He’s coming to my home for the first time. I stare at the display before me and wonder if grilled chicken sandwiches and salad will be good enough. But really, I don’t have time to do anything more elaborate.
Our conversation will be heavy enough as it is.
CHAPTER13
BARON
Irap on the front of the flat with aching knuckles and hold my breath. Delaney’s still in the clothes she’d worn to work when she opens the door. Her face is flush, and my heart stutters at the sight of her.
“Come in,” She says, stepping to the side, and I smile as I head into her flat. It’s nice, clean and quiet, and she gestures me down a short hallway. Following her to the kitchen, the smell of chicken and tomatoes in a cast iron floods my nostrils, and my mouth waters. “I’m almost done.”
A slight, awkward buzz flows through the air, and I walk up to Delaney to wrap my arms around her from behind. She tenses, glancing back with a slight gasp before relaxing into my embrace. Ducking into her neck, I take a deep breath and hold it, closing my eyes to savor this moment.
“I’m glad you invited me over, love,” I mumble, my chest tightening as the severity of the upcoming conversation looms over me. “We have a lot to talk about, and I’d rather it happened in a place you feel safe.”
“O- okay? Why?” Delaney asks, turning off the burner and moving the pan to the back of the stovetop. Grabbing a plate, she dumps the chicken and sliced cherry tomatoes out of the cast iron smoothly. “Are you mad I didn’t tell you right away? Because I was never intending not to tell you about the pregnancy, Baron. It just. . . I needed to come to terms with it myself first.”
“That’s not it,” I lean back on my heels while Delaney twists to cast me a cautious, worried look. “I know. . . about Seattle.”
Delaney’s eyes boggle, and she drops the plate with a horrendous clatter onto the glass stovetop. Somehow, it doesn’t shatter, but she hastily moves it away from the heat and curses harshly. I step back, giving her some space to freak out. The panic on her face is awful, and fire races through my veins.
“While you were in Switzerland,” I state, repeating myself from this morning as she freezes. “My mother came to London and sent me to Seattle to facilitate a deal with Eamon Gallagher. I wasn’t sure at the time why, because negotiations fell apart a long time ago, and she knew it. But while I was there. . . I realized that it was you.”
“Y- you know?” Delaney’s horror softens her voice, and her face pales. She twiddles her thumbs, ducking her head, looking so small. My eyes sting at the sight. Holding out my hand for her, my heart pounds viciously against my ribs. “What do you know?”
“Why you’ve only mentioned the one, Bran. They set you up, didn’t they? Eamon and Keenan?” I rasp, and she inhales a sharp, shallow gasp of a breath. Turning her face away, shame drips from Delaney’s eyes in thick, dense tears. “Even if they didn’t mean to, your brothers put you in the firing line. They ignored your safety but tried to claim ignorance to the actual act. That’s why you came to London. Because it’s neutral territory and as far from Seattle, Washington, America as you can physically get.”
“What’re you going to do about it?” Delaney asks, a barrenness to her tone that scrapes my eardrums painfully. I grimace, and she glances at me through red-rimmed, leaking eyes. “You cannae do shite about it, Baron. It happened. All I can do is trudge on. Aye, I blame them. I blame Keenan for setting me up, lying, all the horrible things he did to get Bran and I into trouble. . . and I blame Eamon for taking away any semblance of righteousness and security I had for the sake of his- his- his stupid fucking crusade against the incursion of Petra Frey. But. . . what can anyone do about it now, hmm?”
“I know there’s nothing I can do, love,” I whisper hoarsely, and Delaney flinches like my admission is a slap to the face. Stretching out my hand, I beg her with my eyes to take it. She hugs herself tightly, shaking with the wretchedness that prances across her sunken expression. “Delaney. . . I can’t do anything about what happened in Seattle, but I can promise you that I’ll help you now. When you’re tired, I’ll watch over you so you can sleep. When you’re angry, I’ll absorb the blows. When you’re sad, I’ll wipe away your tears. Take my hand?”
My voice rubs my throat raw, and Delaney stares at me with this blank look on her face. I hate it, and shame sucks the moisture from my mouth. How the universe aligned to absolutely fuck us both. . . but I can’t find it in me to admit my part. That she never would’ve been attacked if I’d not declined to go to Seattle myself.
Eventually, slowly, Delaney reaches for me, and her fingertips are ice against my palm. Wrapping my hand around hers, I tug her to my chest as her sobs begin to overwhelm her. Tears of my own sting my eyes, and I clench my jaw against the roiling in my gut. “I’m so sorry, love.”
My wheeze snaps something in the air, and Delaney can’t hold back her cries. Burying her face in my chest, she grips my shirt as horrible, gut-wrenching sobs rattle my brain inside my skull. Crying with her, I let myself drown in guilt and regret for a moment. Just a moment. I mourn the impossible thing we could’ve had if only one decision had been different.
“I’m sorry, Delaney, that you were treated so horrifically,” I cup the back of her head in a trembling palm and press my lips to her crown. Delaney’s sobs intensify, her fists pulling my shirt taut over my shoulders, forcing me down. “If I hadn’t canceled a meeting, I would’ve been there. I could’ve done something. . . but I didn’t know. . . and for that. . . I’m so, so very sorry.”
Delaney sniffles harshly as she slowly but surely runs out of tears. Pressing my cheek to her crown, I squeeze her to me, and her hot breaths sear my skin through my shirt. Wiping her face on my shirt, she glances up at me warily. The raw pain in her eyes blinds me, and I blink hard.
“I d-don’t need. . . you to make it up to me, Baron,” She murmurs hoarsely. “I want to- to move forward. Not- not be c- constantly looking back.”
“I’ll apologize one last time,” I rasp, and Delaney’s eyes flash vividly. “Because I know things you weren’t ready to tell me yourself. That even though it was. . . unintentional, I feel like I went behind your back and learned something about you that you didn’t want me to know. Not right now. Maybe, not ever. But let me apologize for it, Delaney.”
“You didn’t know, Baron, and I know that if you suspected,” She trails off to sniffle and rest her forehead against my chest, hiding her face in my shirt. “I just know. I know.”
“I don’t think you do, love,” Cupping her cheek, I tilt Delaney’s face up to stroke her raw cheeks and under her eyes. My heart pounds, and I crack a small smile. “I love you, Delaney. I loved you two weeks ago. . . and I love you now. Even if you can’t trust anyone else. . . you can trust me.”
Delaney’s face colors a beautiful shade of pink, and she pulls back sharply to stare at me with wide, red-rimmed eyes. I stare intensely, not wanting to give her even the slightest hint of doubt; I have none. She starts to smile before her eyes boggle slightly, and she clamps her hands over her mouth suddenly. Ripping herself away, she hangs over the sink to gag harshly. The sound of her throwing up echoes in the kitchen. Rushing to pull back her hair, I look over at the stove to find a single half of a cherry tomato burning on the hot burner.
