Truly Madly Yours

Lisa laughed. “Remember that gold lamй dress with the big sash and that bow on the back?”

“How could I forget.” She pulled an angora sweater over her head then sat on the edge of the bed and shoved her feet into her Doc Marten’s. “And then my mother is going on a Caribbean cruise over Christmas with Max Harrison.”

“Your mother and Max?” Lisa sat next to Delaney. “That’s weird. I can’t picture your mother with anyone but Henry.”

“I think Max is good for her.” She tied one boot, then worked on the other. “Anyway, this is the first time I’ve been home for ten Christmases, and she leaves. That’s pretty typical, when I think about it.”

“You can come to my house. I’ll be living with Louie and Sophie, and we’ll have Christmas there.”

Delaney stood and reached for her dress. “I can just see myself breaking bread with the Allegrezzas.”

“You’ll be ‘breaking bread’ with us at my wedding dinner.”

Apprehension settled in Delaney’s stomach as she slowly put the dress on the hanger. “It’s a buffet, right?”

“No. It’s a sit-down dinner at the Lake Shore Hotel.”

“I thought the dinner was after the rehearsal.”

“No, that’s the buffet.”

“How many people will be at this dinner?”

“Seventy-five.”

Delaney relaxed. With so many guests, it would be quite easy to avoid certain members of Louie’s family. “Well, don’t seat me by Benita. She’ll probably stab me with her butter knife.” And Nick? He was so unpredictable, she couldn’t guess what he might do.

“She’s not that bad.”

“Not to you.” Delaney gathered her coat and headed outside.

“Think about Christmas,” Lisa called after her.

“Okay,” she promised just before she drove away, but there wasn’t even a remote chance she would sit across the table from Nick. What a nightmare. She’d have to spend the entire time trying not to get drawn in by him, looking anywhere but his eyes and mouth and hands. You better not be around here on June fourth, otherwise I’m going to take what you‘ve owed me for ten years.

She didn’t owe him anything. He’d used her to get back at Henry, and they both knew it. Exactly when was that? When you begged me to touch you all over? She hadn’t begged him. More like asked. And she’d been young and naive.

Delaney pulled her little car next to Nick’s Jeep and bolted up the stairs. She wasn’t prepared to see him. Each time she thought of his mouth on her breast and his hand between her thighs, her cheeks got hot. She would have had sex with him right there on her couch, no doubt about it. All he had to do was look at her and he sucked her in like a Hoover. All he had to do was touch her and she wanted to suck him like a Hoover. He had the ability to make her forget who he was. Who she was, and their past together. I told you not to worry and that I’d take care of you, but you looked at me like I was some kind of rapist and left with Henry. She didn’t really believe him now any more than she had the other night. He had to be lying. But why would he lie? It wasn’t like he’d been trying to sweet-talk her out of her clothes. She’d pretty much abandoned all modesty by that point.

She laid her dress on the couch and reached for Nick’s txapel sitting on the coffee table where she’d left it. Her fingertips traced the leather band and smooth wool. It didn’t matter now. Nothing had changed. That night at Angel Beach was old history and best left in the past. Even if it weren’t for Henry’s will, there was no future for the two of them. He was a womanizer and she was leaving just as soon as possible.

With the beret in one hand Delaney walked back outside to the parking lot. Nick’s Jeep was still there, and she opened the driver’s side door. The beige leather interior was still warm as if he’d arrived just before she’d returned to her apartment. The Jeep key was in the ignition, and his Basque cross hung from the rearview mirror. A big box of tools, an extension cord, and three jars of wood putty were tossed in the back. He’d obviously been living in Truly too long, but she supposed if she were a thief, she’d think twice about stealing from an Allegrezza. She set his beret on the leather seat, then turned and hurried back up to her apartment. She didn’t want him to have any reason to walk up her stairs. Obviously, she had no willpower where he was concerned, and it was just best to avoid him as much as possible.

Delaney sat on her couch and tried to tell herself she wasn’t listening for sounds from below. She wasn’t listening for the rattle of keys or the crunch of gravel beneath heavy boots. She wasn’t listening, but she heard his office door open and close, his keys and the scuff of boots. She heard nothing but silence when he discovered his txapel and she imagined him pausing to look up the stairs at her apartment. The silence drew as she listened for his footsteps. Finally, the Jeep’s engine rumbled to life and he rolled out of the parking lot below.

Delaney slowly let out a breath and closed her eyes. Now all she had to do was get through Lisa’s wedding. With seventy-five guests, she could easily ignore Nick. How hard could it be?

Chapter Fourteen

It was a nightmare. Only this time, Delaney was definitely awake. The evening had started out wonderful enough. The wedding ceremony had gone smoothly. Lisa looked beautiful, and the pictures afterward hadn’t lasted too long. She’d left Henry’s Cadillac at the church and ridden to the Lake Shore with Lisa’s cousin Ali, who owned a salon in Boise. For the first time in a long while, Delaney had been able to chat hair trends with another professional, but most important, she’d been able to avoid Nick.

Until now. She’d known about the wedding dinner of course, but she hadn’t known the tables would be organized in a large open rectangle with all the guests seated on the outside so everyone could see everyone else. And she hadn’t known about the arranged seating or she would have switched her engraved placecard to avoid the nightmare she was living.

Beneath the table, something brushed the side of Delaney’s foot, and she would bet it wasn’t an amorous mouse. She pulled both feet beneath her chair and stared down at the remains of her filet mignon, wild rice, and asparagus spears. Somehow, she’d been seated on the groom’s side, sandwiched between Narcisa Hormaechea, who clearly didn’t care for her, and the man who refused to cooperate and let her ignore him any longer. The harder she tried to pretend Nick didn’t exist, the more pleasure he took in provoking her. Like accidentally bumping her arm and making her rice shoot off her fork.

“Did you bring your handcuffs?” he asked next to her left ear as he reached across her for a bottle of Basque Red. His tuxedo lapel brushed her bare arm.

Like an erotic movie wrapped for continuous play, visions of his hot mouth on her naked breast played in her head. She couldn’t even look at him without blushing like an embarrassed virgin, but she didn’t need to actually see him to know when he raised his wine to his lips, or when his thumb stroked the clear stem, or when he shoved his black bow tie into a pocket and removed the black stud at his throat. She didn’t have to look at him to know he wore his pleated cotton shirt and tuxedo jacket with the same casual ease he wore flannel and denim.

“Excuse me.” Narcisa touched Delaney’s shoulder, and she turned her attention to the older woman, who had two white streaks on the sides in her perfect dome of black hair. Her brows were lowered and her brown eyes were magnified behind a pair of thick octagon-shaped glasses, making her appear a little like a myopic Bride of Frankenstein. “Could you pass the butter, please?” she asked and pointed to a small bowl sitting by Nick’s knife.

Delaney reached for the butter, careful to keep any part of her from touching Nick. She held her breath, waiting for him to say something rude, crude, or socially unacceptable. He didn’t utter a word, and she immediately grew suspicious, wondering what he planned next.

“It was a beautiful wedding, don’t you think?” Narcisa asked someone further down the table. She took the bowl from Delaney, then ignored her completely.

Delaney didn’t really expect warm fuzzies from Benita’s sister and turned her gaze to the bride and groom, who were surrounded by parents and grandparents on both sides. Earlier, she’d braided Lisa’s brown hair in an inside- out coronet. She’d stuck in a few sprigs of baby’s breath, and wove in a piece of tulle. Lisa looked great in a white