Chapter Thirty-Five
Brody
Women are everywhere. Most of them I recognize from Avery’s selfies she sends me when she’s on location for a photoshoot and a few from Sports Illustrated. It’s kind of hard not to look at them when they’re frolicking past me wearing the little bit of fabric they call swimsuits that barely covers their . . . assets.
I’m a man, not blind. Then again, I know a few women that would argue men are blind too. Like when Mom got her hair cut, it took Dad at least a day to notice. But one thing I am definitely not blind to, is my Delilah. None of these models hold a candle to her. She’s the only woman that has my attention and my heart.
My eyes veer to where she stands talking to Catherine and a smile plays across her face. She’s so damn beautiful.
Was it love at first sight that night at the club? Fuck if I know. But it was something all right. She’s like a damn magnet pulling at me.
On the way home from Virginia, all I thought about was getting to her. Seeing her gorgeous smile, holding her perfect body, tasting those delicious lips, and feeling her flawless skin against mine.
It’s a good thing the company jet has the cabin in the back. It saved me from having to drive through the god-awful LA traffic to get ready at home. The moment the plane landed, the town car was waiting for me on the tarmac and I told the driver to speed all the way to her house.
When she opened the front door, the sight of her paralyzed me and nearly took my breath away. Those special three words I have been holding back to say were on the tip of my tongue. Instead, I took her in my arms, showed her how much I love her and never wanted to let her go.
But something wasn’t right. I felt it when she trembled in my arms, but she blamed it on not seeing each other for a week. I’ll give her that. I know she wasn’t lying, but her telltale sign —playing with the charm on her necklace—told me something else was bothering her too.
Now, I’m getting antsy standing in the middle of these socialites. I plaster on the fake smile and remember I’m here for my sister. But I still don’t want to be here, and I don’t want to go to the after-party. I just want to be with Delilah and get on the helicopter I booked and head to Catalina Island.
I have been planning this trip for the last couple of weeks. I want it to be perfect. To tell her all the things I love about her. The dimple on her right cheek when she smiles. The way she tucks her hair behind her ear and smiles with her eyes. Every time she enters a room, she lights it up. And don’t get me started on her intoxicating sweet and unique perfume that drives me absolutely crazy.
I don’t know how the hell I got to this point. But she’s the only woman to make me feel this way. Sappy and cheesy.
“You have some lipstick on your shirt,” Sophia says as she wipes the top button of my shirt.
The smile on my face widens only because it’s Delilah’s lipstick from the make-out session in the back seat of the town car. We were like a couple of teenagers and couldn’t keep our hands off each other. We tried our best to wipe it off, but it was useless.
“Thanks,” I tell her. “So, I did my shopping and made my selection.”
“Which bikini did you like?” she asks.
“She looks amazing in red.” I would have told my sister the selections I wanted, but with Delilah within earshot, it was impossible. Telling Sophia, who’s my sister’s business partner, will make it easier to hide all the swimsuits I want to buy for her. Delilah will never suspect anything.
“I’ll get them delivered to her by next week.”
The corner of my mouth turns up because I have another surprise planned—this time a trip to Hawaii. I love making my woman smile.
“I appreciate that. I can’t wait to see the look on her face.”
“Speaking of, I’d love to meet the woman that’s finally getting you settled down. And I want you to meet Shane. My fiancé.”
“Delilah’s amazing. She’s right over there . . .” I turn to where I last saw her. “She was here just a second ago.” I rise to the balls of my feet and I don’t see her anywhere. “Excuse me, Sophia. I need to find her. I’ll catch you later.”
“Absolutely. And I’ll get that order in.”
I move across the room, my eyes volleying from one person to the next, hoping I spot Delilah. When I approach Catherine and Avery, Catherine continues discussing the speech my sister needs to give at the after-party.
“Ladies, I’m sorry to interrupt, but have you seen Delilah?” I ask, my hand goes through my hair as an unnerving feeling seeps under my skin.
“I left her over there,” Catherine says as she points.
“Maybe she went to the ladies’ room,” Avery suggests.
“I hate to ask, but can you just check to see if she’s there?” I plead to my sister.
“I’ll go,” Catherine offers. “I need to go anyway. And, Avery, you need to head up to the fourth floor as people are most likely waiting for your arrival.” Catherine makes her way across the room and disappears in the hallway.
Avery places her hand on my arm. “I’ll see you later?”
“Yes, you will. After I find my girlfriend first.”
Avery gives me a kiss on my cheek. “I’m so glad you’re here, Brody.”
“Me too.” Before she turns, I lightly grip her elbow, and she turns back to face me. “I’m really proud of you, Ave. Thanks for having Sophia take care of the swimsuit order for Delilah.”
“No sweat. And for the record, I really like Delilah. She’s a keeper. Don’t fuck this up, Bro.”
I laugh. “Not a chance. She’s something special.” I watch my sister make her way through the crowd and down the same hallway Catherine disappeared through.
Jackson slaps my shoulder. “You all right, man?”
“Not sure. Something doesn’t feel right.” Chills weigh down my shoulders and I can’t seem to shake the feeling.
“What’s got your Spidey-senses on alert?”
“As soon as Catherine comes back, I’ll let you know,” I tell him anxiously, wanting to burst into the women’s bathroom and find Dee myself.
“You really like her, don’t you?”
Before I can even say another word, Catherine is approaching Jackson’s side.
“Delilah’s not in the restroom. Maybe she went outside to get some fresh air . . . It is a little stuffy in here,” Catherine says as a woman with an earpiece in her ear and holding a clipboard calls for her. “Listen, I still have some work to do here. If I see her, I’ll have her wait upstairs with me.”
“Baby, you go do your thing,” Jackson says to Catherine. “I’ll go with Brody to look for Delilah.” He presses a kiss on her temple.
“Thanks, Catherine,” I say, trying my best to reassure myself that there’s nothing wrong and I’m just being paranoid or overprotective. But why can’t I shake this feeling?
“Call her phone,” Jackson suggests.
I pull out my cell and press her number on my speed dial. It rings several times then goes to voice mail. I shoot off a text and wait for a minute or two. Nothing.