“What if—”
“Look, I have your back on this one. I’ve got you on my Life360 app.” Sydney pulls out her phone and shows the blinking dots on our location. “Besides, didn’t you ask Tawney and Landon and they vouched for him too?”
“Yes, but . . .”
“No buts. I will stay home tonight. If your date isn’t going well, text me. I’ll come get you. But as far as I’m concerned, I have a good feeling about him.”
“Thanks, Syd.”
“For?”
I wrap my arms around her and hold her tight. “For being my sister from another mister,” I whisper as I hold back a tear.
She pulls away and locks eyes with me. “Oh, no you don’t . . . No crying. You’ll ruin your makeup and I will have to start all over again.”
I turn and lean closer to the mirror as I lightly tap under my eyes. “I look like I got no sleep with these dark circles. Should I put more concealer on?”
“Quit your fussing. You’re gorgeous.”
I huff as I play with my brown hair. “Hair up or down?”
“I love it down. And curl it a little,” she says, touching the ends of my hair. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to steam this for you.”
I turn back and look in the mirror, feeling like an awkward teenager getting ready for the prom. The tingling feeling warms my chest and those damn butterflies are fluttering again.
I hate to admit it, but I’m excited to see him. Even though we’re meeting at the diner, he’s already been to my house twice to surprise me. First with the replacement of my car battery and then the delivery of the sunflowers, leaving me to wonder what tonight will bring.
I venture into the kitchen to get some water and my phone rings. I answer it without looking at the screen.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Lu.”
“Dylan? Everything okay? Is it Phoebe? Did she have the baby?”
“Everything is fine. And no baby yet, but I swear Feebs is acting like a big baby.” He chuckles. “How’s California treating you?”
“I got a job,” I say as I open the fridge and reach for the bottle of white wine and pour a glass instead of getting a bottle of water.
“Mama told me. You’re some executive or something.”
“Hardly. Mama’s exaggerating. I’m one of the marketing managers for CJJ Public Relations. It’s fast-paced and I love it.”
“I’m proud of you, Lu.” He clears his throat. “Have you met any guys out there yet?”
“Dyl, seriously? I’m not about to talk boys with you.”
“I’m just looking out for you. I know Drake’s been on your ass about the last fucktard. But he was right, you know? Todd was all wrong for you.” And there goes the smile that was tugging at my lips.
“Why are we talking about him?” I scoff. “Lesson learned.” I down the glass of wine, needing to take the edge off since this conversation took a turn.
“I spoke to Mama the other day—”
“Holy shit. Is nothing sacred in our family anymore? After he hit me, he made threats to Dax and Mama—”
“Todd hit you?”
Shit! I squeeze my eyes shut, knowing I spoke too soon. “Dylan,” I say, hoping I can calm my brother.
“Delilah, back the fuck up. It may be over, but did I hear you right? Did that asshole hit you? How long had this been—”
“Please, I’d like to drop it now.”
“That motherfucker is lucky he’s behind bars. I swear to god, if I ever see him again, I will beat the shit out of him.”
“I’m in a better place now.”
“Lu . . . why didn’t you say anything?”
I clear my throat and do the best to dissuade the conversation. “Like I said, it’s over and I’m better now . . . You said that you spoke to Mama the other day?”
He lets out a breath, knowing he hates it when I change the subject. “Yes. I spoke to her the other day to let her know that I’m surprising Phoebe with an engagement party.”
“Engagement party?” Then it hits me. “Dylan Noah Marshall! Are you asking Phoebe to marry you?”
His chuckle comes through the line and my heart swells. “I am. And I need my family at the new house I bought.”
“You bought a house? No more penthouse overlooking the Golden Gate bridge.”
“I’m going to be a family man now and need to give my lady and children a place to call home.”
Tears well in my eyes as he tells me the details of what his plans are. Dylan may be a former badass Navy SEAL, but he’s a big mush and it’s clear as day he loves Phoebe.
The time on the microwave tells me I have only thirty minutes to finish getting ready. “Shoot! Dylan, I gotta go.”
“The party is a surprise. So, don’t say a word,” he says.
“I promise. I’ll book my flight and if you need me to do anything, let me know.”
“Thanks, baby girl. Love you, Lu.”
“Love you back, Dyl.”
I refill my glass of what’s left in the bottle. “Hey, Syd, want some wine?” I yell so she can hear me across the house. No answer. “Syd?” I call again, walking through the living room holding the full wineglass. A cool breeze wafts over my bare torso and arms.
“Looks like you have a special delivery,” Sydney says, hands on her hips.
I stop dead in my tracks. To my surprise, Serena did not bark at the new guest standing in the threshold of the living room. Instead, my dog is wagging her tail next to a man holding a bouquet.
I look down and I’m immediately embarrassed standing in the middle of our living room with just my bra and jeans on.
“Holy shit!” I squeal, using my one free hand to cover myself all the while spilling the wine on my jeans and all over my skin.
I take a step back. My eyes dart anywhere and everywhere to see what I can grab to cover myself. I quickly snatch the sunflower printed pillow from the couch and cover my breasts as Sydney covers her mouth to hide her laughing.
After Brody’s chuckle subsides, he cups his hand on the back of his neck as his eyes pin me motionless.
“Hi, Dorothy,” he says with a raise of his brow and flash of the cat-ate-the-canary smile.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, the pillow pressed against my upper body and my wineglass half full. “I thought we were meeting at Tawney’s.”
Under the bright light in the living room, he’s breathtaking. He’s more gorgeous than when I saw him last.
This time, he’s not wearing a hat. His sandy blond hair is in a messy spike, in a cute kind of way. Those sparkling brandy-colored eyes have a tint of emerald. His megawatt smile deepens the dimples on his cheeks. He’s wearing dark blue jeans and a black button-up shirt, folded at the forearms as if it was made for him.
I keep staring when my eyes veer down his torso imagining a set of six-pack abs behind the black fabric of his shirt then down past his waist. Suddenly there’s an ache between my thighs as I stare at the zipper of his jeans.
Realizing he has caught me gawking, embarrassment warms my cheeks, and Sydney giggles again. Can I just die now?
“I wanted to surprise you instead of meeting you at Tawney’s,” he says. “It’s only right if I pick you up for our first date.”