“Delilah, I think you are an amazing woman. And being here with you and your family has made me fall harder for you. But I have another idea for falling harder if you’re ready to go.”
She smiles. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Chapter Thirty
Brody
Her eyes light up and her smile warms my heart when she opens the door wider and motions for me to enter. Delilah holds up one finger telling me to give her a minute as I have a seat on the small sofa.
I pick up a magazine and flip through the pages, keeping myself busy. I roll my eyes when I see my sister posing in a bathing suit on the beach.
“The meeting is set for next month,” a man says through the speakerphone on her desk and the voice sounds familiar.
“I look forward to presenting the new ideas and designs.” She leans back in the leather chair, twisting her lips as she skims the paper in her hand.
“And I am looking forward to seeing them. I have seen your work, Delilah, and I’m impressed.”
“The last project was simply maintenance and changing up some graphics,” Delilah says.
“There is nothing simple about you at all.” A sting of jealousy hits me as the man clears his throat. “Let’s meet for lunch, say . . . tomorrow to go over some strategies?”
He’s asking my girl out.
Delilah glances at a calendar on her desk. “I’m booked tomorrow. But you are always welcome to make an appointment with the front desk. She has my schedule, Mr. Lindell.”
Is that Kyle? Talk about whiplash. I knew I recognized that voice and his sly tactic. The jackass is using his Wayne Butters technique with my girlfriend. Asshole.
I quickly stand, lean in Dee’s ear, and whisper, “Is that Kyle Lindell?” She nods and her brows scrunch together as if she’s wondering how I know him. “Hey, fucker!” I bellow into the speaker.
The look on Delilah’s face is priceless as her eyes go wide. “Brody! What are you doing? He’s my client,” she gasps, quickly standing to her feet.
“Brody? Is that you?” Kyle asks.
I laugh and plant a kiss on Delilah’s lips. “So this is the way you’re trying to steal my girl before I formally introduce you?”
“Wait, Delilah Marshall is your Kansas girl?” The question is more like a statement as he laughs between words. “You told me her name was Dorothy.”
Delilah lets out a breath and relaxes her shoulders. “How do you two know each other?”
“Kyle and I are good friends and we grew up together. He’s who we will be having dinner with next weekend.”
“Yeah, about that. No can do, bro. I was going to call you. I have this wine caucus thing to go to.”
“Brody, you told me we were meeting with Wayne Butters,” Delilah interrupts.
Kyle and I start laughing and I don’t have a clue why I told her that. I kiss her cheek again and the scowl written all over her face tells me she doesn’t like being left out.
“Wayne is Kyle’s nickname,” I tell her. “And a story he either needs to tell you or you may need to see in action.”
“Should I worry?” Delilah raises her perfect brow, hand on her hip, giving me the death glare.
“Not about me, I’d worry more about the women he uses that line on.”
“Hey, listen, you two lovebirds, I need to run. Delilah, it’s nice to finally meet you. Brody, call me later in the week.”
Delilah pushes the red button on the phone, and I rest my hands on either side of her hips, my face just inches from hers. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” she says. Her hands frame my face then she gives me a chaste kiss on my lips. “And I’m starving. Where are we going for lunch?”
“Is there any way you can take off early today? There’s something I want to do with you.”
“Brody, do you always have sex on the brain?”
“When it comes to you, yes. But that’s not what I had in mind. That will be later tonight.”
“I suppose I can take off early.” She opens the calendar on her desk. “I don’t have any appointments for the rest of the afternoon. I’ll just let the front desk know I’m no longer in the office and they can call me if they need me.”
“Then it’s settled.”
We drive in a comfortable silence as our fingers lace together. I finally exit after thirty minutes on the freeway. Her dark sunglasses shadow her eyes. I can sense her confusion when she angles her head as I drive through the wrought iron gates, passing the sign, West Meadows Senior Living.
With her next to me, it’s like seeing West Meadows with a fresh set of eyes. Palm trees line the two-way winding road to the manicured lawn. As we get closer, various colors of flowers adorn the large porch and facility workers in their white crisp uniforms pushing patients in their wheelchair around the small pond.
I have come to terms with Matt’s death, forgiving myself and knowing I have done my part in taking care of Laura and the boys. I have laid everything out on the table and told Dee about my pre-navy days, and the stories of being a Saint Clair with Wayne Butters. Now it’s time to tell her about my dad.
I glance over at Delilah and I wonder what she’s thinking when we park. The pit in my stomach is twisting into knots. She slides her sunglasses on top of her head and turns to face me.
Delilah reaches over and the mere touch of her hand is the unconditional support that comforts my uneasiness. She has no idea the man I want her to meet may not remember me today. And yet, here I am, taking a chance for her to meet my dad, my hero. I want this woman to know everything about me, which is inevitable, and my worst fear.
With our hands linked, we walk through the main entrance and I take a deep breath. My heart is thumping so loud I swear Delilah can hear it. Fear, anxiety, and unforeseen events play in my head. I’m afraid of what condition Dad will be in today.
I have never come here of my own free will. Usually it’s Avery asking me to come with her or Doctor Williams requesting my presence. I’ve fought in battles, gotten shot and my leg almost ripped to shreds, and I’m scared as fuck right now. But with this woman by my side, I feel like I can do this.
“We are here to see Gerard Reinhardt,” I tell the nurse at the desk, then I glance at Delilah to see her expression. Her smile is all the comfort I need as she squeezes my hand. “My name is Brody, his son, and this is my girlfriend, Delilah.”
The nurse checks the list of permitted visitors then passes us stickers with our names written on them. We enter the double doors to the left and before I even realize it, we are at the threshold of my father’s room.
I take in a deep breath and slowly enter, leaving my proverbial armor at the door. He’s staring out the window, silent and still. I motion for Delilah to hang back by the door, nervous of how he’ll be today.
I rest the brown paper bag that holds our lunch on the table, then take a seat in the empty chair next to him.
“Gerard,” I say cautiously. “Hi. How are you doing? Do you remember me?”
Dad slowly turns to face me, and I swear I saw a tug at the corner of his mouth or was that my imagination?