“No. I’m not mad anymore. You’ll still be a pain in my ass, though.”
“Isn’t that what big brothers are for?” Drake chuckles.
I park my hand on my jutted hip. “Dylan has never been an ass to me.”
“That’s because he’s a pansy-ass.” And just like that, we are back to normal.
I giggle. “True.”
Drake points his chin toward Brody who is now with Susie, Dax, and Catrina by the dessert table. “He seems like a good guy.”
“Do I hear the Drake-stamp-of-approval?”
“He’s a former Captain America, just like Dyldo, he’s okay in my book.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Brody
Since the proposal, we men have been sitting around a bonfire, doing the male bonding thing for the last couple of hours. I told Dylan I’m working for Jackson and Mark. Dylan shared that he, Jackson, and Mark, though on different SEAL teams, completed a few missions together.
On our umpteenth beer, he entertains me with stories and pranks they played on each other on their missions. My favorite account involved Mark, Mexico, and laxatives.
Good times. And I can’t wait to bring it up next time I see Mark.
Dylan switches the subject to Delilah as we watch her go into the house and one by one, all the lights we can see through the window flicker on.
“For as long as I can remember, Lulu’s been afraid of the dark,” Dylan says, then takes a long pull of his beer.
“I think it’s cute how she lights up the house but curious how that all became a thing for her,” I say, pointing my chin to the house as she passes a window.
“It’s definitely a thing, and we had no choice but to adapt to her new fear of darkness.” Dylan scrapes his jaw as he eyes Drake.
“What do you mean? She told me a house should always be welcoming, and that’s why she keeps the lights on.” I tilt my head and narrow my eyes, knowing there is more to the story.
“These two were playing hide-and-seek while Pop made me lock up the barn. It was all part of the extra chores I had to do in punishment for coming home past curfew,” Drake chimes in as he points his beer at his brother. “Dyldo here, was the seeker. Lu was a helluva good hider. She hid in a large empty crate in the barn, and when she closed the lid, the latch fell over the hook and locked her in.”
“Then how’d you find her?” I ask, taking another swig of my beer, glancing over at Delilah talking with her mother and Daxton.
Dylan leans in with his elbows on his knees. “I called the game over, but she never came out. After thirty minutes or so, the sun had already come down, and we all began to worry.”
“I checked the pasture hoping she didn’t fall into one of the many holes we dug out there for the fencing,” Neil, Delilah’s father, says as he rubs the back of his neck.
“And I checked all the rooms in the house,” Dylan adds.
“Then I heard crying and banging from behind the barn doors,” Drake says, letting out a breath and shame in his eyes. “When I opened the crate, fuck . . . my heart broke. I felt so guilty for locking her up in there.”
“Drake, you had no idea. You were doing what I told you to do,” Neil says, his baritone voice distinct and stoic.
“Yeah, well, I still felt like shit, Pop.”
“And this is when Drake-the-overprotective brother was born. Always checking on her, making sure everything was okay, wanting to know her whereabouts and if Lulu was safe.” Dylan chuckles then looks up when Phoebe calls him from the other side of the yard. “Now if you’ll excuse me, my baby-mama-bride-to-be is requesting my hotness.”
“What she sees in you, I’ll never know,” Drake jokes.
“Well, she’s not marrying me for my money.”
“Whatever, pencil dick,” Drake says, holding up his pinky finger.
We all laugh when Dylan rubs his middle finger against his temple as he leaves with the bonfire blazing between us.
“And why do you call Delilah, Lulu?” I ask, tipping back the rest of my beer.
Neil chuckles and points his beer to Daxton who is sitting at the picnic table with Catrina and Susie. “Dax couldn’t say Delilah. When he started speaking, he kept saying Dee-Lulu.”
“Then we shortened it and it stuck,” Drake adds as his daughter, Catrina, waves at him with a crayon in her hand.
“It’s what we call Daxtionary jargon . . . Daxton’s got quite a few of them,” Neil says with a deep chuckle, reminding me of my dad.
“And before you even think it, you can’t call her Lulu . . . it’s a Marshall thing,” Drake blurts out with a raise of a brow. “Dax is very strict about who is permitted to call her by the nickname he anointed her. Even Delilah’s best friends aren’t allowed.”
That’s okay, I have my own nickname for her.
“Good to know,” I reply with a smile and turn to see Delilah walking toward us. She sits in the empty chair Dylan occupied just moments ago.
“So, what are my favorite men talking about over here?” Delilah asks. “All good things, I assume.”
“Always good, Lu,” Neil says, rising from the lounge chair. “Now I think I want to have a slice of your mama’s desserts.” He nods at us, pats me on the shoulder and gives it a squeeze. He leans down and whispers, “Take care of my baby girl.”
“Yes, sir.”
Delilah angles her head as her eyes follow her dad retreating toward the open French doors into the kitchen. “What did he say to you?”
“Who?” I grin, feigning innocence.
“My dad . . . what did he whisper in your ear?”
“It’s a bro-code thing.” I chuckle and give a knowing nod at Drake sitting across from us.
“Mm-hmm.” She raises a brow, eyes darting between us men.
“Your dad and brother were kind enough to tell me about Light up Lulu.” I grab her hand and kiss the top of it.
“Thanks a lot, Drake.” She narrows her eyes at her brother. “My boyfriend thinks I’m a freak now.”
I lightly yank her hand, motioning her to look back at me. “On the contrary, I think it’s adorable.”
“Well, isn’t that wonderful, we have two pansy-ass Captain Americas,” Drake pipes as he gets up from his chair jiggling his empty beer bottle. “Want another beer, man?”
“Nah, I’m good, thanks.”
“Yup, like I said . . . pansy-ass.” Drake chuckles as he turns on his heel, leaving Delilah and me alone.
Delilah giggles and it sends a warm tingle to my chest. This woman is like a force of nature doing things to my heart.
“I’m adorable, huh?” she whispers as she cups my cheek.
I meet her eyes and my lopsided grin on my face gets bigger. And despite the company around us, I kiss her soft lips, savoring the taste of her.
I pull away and take her all in. Her chestnut hair falls forward over her shoulders, blue eyes suggestive, and I’m eager to take her back to the suite to have my way with her. Just like I had her in the shower, then on the bed, and one more time against the wall. Which is my new favorite position with her.