I locate him and nod to Sophia, who is attempting to put Delilah at ease.
“Excuse us, darlin’, I’d like to introduce Delilah to my brother.”
“Of course.”
She smiles brightly, her gaze also lingering on our clutched hands, and I shrug off their attention. It is what it is. Nothing.
As we head through the bar, I nod at anyone who calls out but drag Delilah behind me with purpose. It’s a little overwhelming, and if we stopped at every Reaper who wants a conversation, she would be shit scared in no time.
As we reach Razor, he turns and his gaze locks on our hands, and with a slight shake of his head, he nods to Delilah.
“Hey, darlin’. It’s good to meet you.”
Sunday is behind the bar, watching with amusement and she turns to Delilah. “Well, congratulations, honey. You got a whole-assed sentence out of this guy. I’m impressed.”
She winks and holds out her hand. “I’m Sunday and I’m very pleased to meet you.”
“Delilah.”
She shifts closer, and I ache to drape my arm around her shoulders and claim her once and for all. Warning the Reapers away, stamping ownership on my girl. But she’s not. She’s a free woman, and it’s not my place to change that. Not while she’s dealing with the shit her life is right now.
Razor’s gaze flicks between us, and I note the interest in his eyes. Not for Delilah, but for the situation.
Sunday leans over the bar and says with a smile. “What can I get you, honey. I make a mean cocktail if you’re interested.”
“Sure. I’d love that.”
Sunday winks and turns to me. “What about you, Blade, usual?”
I nod, words unnecessary, and she rolls her eyes. “I bet it was a blast at your family table.”
She turns and heads to the back of the bar to mix her speciality cocktail.
Razor considers Delilah but says no words, and for once I wish he’d freaking engage in conversation because it’s making Delilah nervous.
I make his excuses. “Razor doesn’t talk much, but if he did, he would welcome you and act fucking interested.”
Razor snorts and winks at Delilah, and she visibly relaxes and smiles. “Blade told me he had an identical twin. He was right.”
“Looks only, darlin’.” I add. “I told you I got all the personality.”
“Keep telling yourself that, brother.”
Razor lifts the beer to his lips and then slams it down.
“Word is you lost your memory. That must suck.”
“It does.” Delilah sighs. “What sucks more is discovering I was married to an asshole.”
Razor chuckles, and I sense the admiration in his smile as he nods his approval.
“Then it was a blessing.”
“It probably is because I doubt my memories are good ones if I ended up marrying him in the first place.”
Sunday returns with two beers and a fruity cocktail with ice and an umbrella.
Delilah grins. “Wow, that looks amazing.”
