“I appreciate your kindness, and I understand why Ruthie told you, but I’m not a charity case. I have everything under control. So, is it okay if I let you know in a few days?”
“Of course,” Lester says. There’s a hint of raspiness in his tone. God, I hope I wasn’t too harsh. It’s never my goal to hurt anyone’s feelings.
I thank him and turn to leave, but when my hand is on the doorknob, I feel compelled to add one more thing. When I glance back at him, I offer him a smile.
“Nobody knows about my mom except you and Ruthie. I’d like to keep it that way. At least for now.” Surprise flickers across his face, then dissipates.
“May I ask what the reason is? God, now I sound like Ruthie getting all nosy.”
We both laugh at his comment because it’s 100% accurate. It’s very challenging to keep anything from Ruthie, but as much as everyone teases her about being a gossip, she’s held this bit of information about me to herself until now. I appreciate it.
I pivot to face him.
“It’s nothing drastic. Honestly, I think I’m afraid that if people know, they’ll feel sorry for me. My mom has had dementia since she was in her fifties, which, as you know, is quite young. I’ve got everything handled, and the idea of people treating me with pity doesn’t sit well with me.”
“I’m really sorry that happened to you and your mom,” Lester says. Sincerity drips from his voice. “But I challenge you to think on it and decide whether you think this group of people—Harrison and the other boys, Tillie, Ruthie, Georgie—are the type of people who would do that. I can tell you, they are people who would want to help if they could, but they won’t allow it to color how they see you.”
I feel the tightening as my eyebrows fly up toward my hairline, and I tilt my head to the side. I don’t even have to speak to imply that I disbelieve his theory.
“Okay. They might feel bad about your situation, and they might feel sorrow at what you’re going through, but they won’t treat you differently because of it.”
A sorrowful sigh escapes me. I wish I knew if that were true.
I smile at him, thinking that Harrison is probably getting restless.
“I’ll think about it. Please don’t tell anyone else until I’m ready.” He nods.
I open the door and have taken one step out when my eyes immediately find Harrison, fifteen feet away on a patio chair. He’s sitting with his head tilted back and his eyes closed, basking in the warm summer sun. He looks delicious. The celibacy pact is getting to me.
“Delaney?” Lester’s voice is hushed. I look over my shoulder at him. “Think about at least telling him. If you wait too long, it’ll hurt him. And don’t be afraid to like him as much as your heart wants to. Like I said, he’s a good kid.”
After Lester is back inside, I make my way over to Harrison and sit in the chair opposite him. That’s when I notice his rhythmic breathing and realize he’s asleep. Not one to waste an opportunity, I take a minute and look him up and down. That’s a mistake because it reminds me that we still have ‘no-go’ zones, and I’m really wishing we didn’t.
When my roaming eyes make it back up to his face, he’s awake and smiling. His eyes look heavy, like they want to shut again and get more sleep.
“Like what you see there, Bets?” His voice is raspy from sleeping and, damn, it’s sexy.
I smile back at him. “I do. Very much.”
His face lights up, and he sits upright. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He leans toward me and plants a soft kiss on my lips. When he pulls back enough to look at me, he cups the side of my face with his hand, and his eyes search mine.
“You okay?” he whispers.
I nod because I don’t trust myself to speak. I lean forward and kiss his mouth, only I don’t move away after one kiss as he did. I plant several pecks on his lips until he groans and moves his hand into my hair. Then he uses it to gently urge me closer to him. He deepens the kiss, and we both move slowly, reveling in the tangle of our tongues and the thrill of our lips touching each other.
“Rule number one if you move in here is no necking on my patio.” Lester’s voice is growly, with a hint of amusement.
We pull apart some, but Harrison lays one more soft caress on the side of my mouth before he sits upright. Then he stands, grabs my hand, and helps me up.
When we walk past Lester as he’s heading back to the main house, Harrison mortifies me when he huffs out, “Cockblocker.”
I’m pretty sure I still hear Lester’s roaring laughter even as we get to the car.
Chapter Forty-Two
Harrison
