“I was there, Ms. Delilah. For the end. I caught the very end. I don’t know why you did or said what you said to those ladies tonight, but I know you’ve been through a lot recently in this town,” the driver smiled. “You’re one of my favorite people in the Cove. A very brave woman. A good person. Not everyone believes gossip. People respect you. You’ll see.”
His name was Charles. His younger brother was in elementary school with her. He was older, but they knew the same people. Queen recommended his company for the driver service a year ago. There was an entire community that Queen belonged to, and Delilah didn’t. The divide widened when she became a Montgomery. Still, she supported that community every chance she could. Why hadn’t she noticed who he was when he greeted her earlier? When did she stop seeing people? Was it all Mother Abigail’s fault, or did she truly become what she now hated? Delilah shuddered inwardly at the thought.
“G’night,” he tipped his hat and walked away. She stood in front of the Montgomery ranch. Large flakes of snow fell around her. Terrible regrets assailed her but hearing his words of encouragement put some of her emotion in perspective. It was colder than any night she could remember in the Cove, so she held her coat tight to her. Delilah glanced behind her to her home. The sun hadn’t fully set, but the evenings were short, and it was disappearing from the sky. It didn’t feel the same, even though her baby and family waited for her inside. She began to walk, not toward the door but toward the snow. It was hard. The snow reached to cover her ankles and ruined her shoes. Her feet sank, and she stumbled, fell, got up, and stumbled again, landing on her hand and knees. Her dress was ruined. Her cashmere coat was ruined. Delilah felt wet and unclean. But she kept going. When she reached the covered porch of the cottage, she shivered all over. Her makeup had smeared across her face. She’d lost her purse in the snow with her phone inside. Her fist shook as she knocked on the door. She knocked three times before rescue came.
Chapter Fifteen
A NEW LOVE / RENEWED Trust
Maverick suffered through another news broadcast on the horrors of the world. It had barely been a week since he arrived. How was it possible that so much had happened so fast? When the knock came to the front door, he didn’t notice. He heard the double-knock, and in an instant, in his heart, he knew. She had promised she’d come to see him when she returned. The wait killed him. That, too, surprised him. She’d gotten under his skin, and now she occupied his thoughts day and night. He would answer the door barefoot, pulling up on his sagging shorts to make himself look halfway decent. He was ready for the tough conversation he intended to have. Confessing his feelings for Delilah to her friend Queen came as a bigger shock to him considering the reasons they were together. Still, he didn’t regret it. He just couldn’t find the words to explain how emotionally connected he and Delilah had become. If he were to have any future with her, he had one shot at getting things right for his son. So much bothered him about being cast aside, he couldn’t open the door fast enough.
Maverick opened the door.
Delilah held her long coat covered in snow shut. She looked soggy, her hair lay flat to her head, and all curls were gone. Her eye makeup had been smeared over her cheeks.
“What happened to you?” Maverick asked.
Delilah stood before him with blank eyes guarded by repressed tears that her pride refused to release. Maverick took her hand. It was cold, so he drew her in from the snow that whipped up a fierce wind behind her. The tenderness in his expression he hoped would warm her to trust him. And she came with him without objection. Maverick’s first reaction was to hug her, and he did. He held her close. He reached behind her and shut the door to keep the world locked out.
Delilah Denise Fletcher Montgomery was a mystery to them all. Maverick had gotten the closest he supposed because he doubted many or any men, including her dead husband, saw her that vulnerable. So Maverick pulled off her coat that seems bulky and frozen to her body from the snow. He let it drop to the floor to thaw. After that, he removed her shoes one foot at a time. To warm her feet the best he could, he rubbed them with his hands and looked up at her to see if she liked it. Delilah kept staring straight forward. Maverick stroked her legs that, too, were cold and proceeded to unzip her dress. With his help, she stepped out of everything. She wore a half bra and garter-belt with stockings over a matching pair of panties. It was even more flattering than the dress he tried not to notice.
Delilah was a classy lady; whatever she’d been through that night hadn’t changed that fact. He made her unfold her arms and took her hands into his to rub them together. Maverick blew into them. The flames in the fireplace were blowing tall from the gas controls. Maverick intended to make it a raging inferno if necessary. He pulled her over to make her comfortable. Delilah’s blank stare turned to the fireplace while he observed. Her dark lashes were so low he wasn’t sure if she was aware of his concern. The silence between them became too much. Maverick had to know how a strong, vibrant woman could return to him so shaken.
“You don’t want to talk?” Maverick asked.
Delilah shook her head, slow-motion to deliver her answer.
“Well, I get that. You came to the right place,” Maverick said.
Delilah let go of his hand and went to the bedroom. Maverick paused for only a second and then followed. Inside the room, he found her by the bed. She undid the hooks to her half bra and let it drop to the floor.
Maverick closed the door.
“I can make you something to eat? Drink?”
Delilah ran her fingers back through her wet, frizzing hair and let go of a soft reply that he did not understand. Delilah crawled over the bed and lay in the middle of it on her stomach. Maverick had a moment of staring at her body. A moment he couldn’t let go of, but eventually, he did. He turned to leave, and she spoke his name.
Maverick looked back at the bed.
“Don’t go,” she said. Delilah extended her hand. If he acted on the urges in his loins, it would not be for the right reasons. She deserved tenderness and understanding, not his dick. Delilah sat up, she scooted to the edge of the bed, and when he didn’t move, she came to him. She took his hands and brought him with her.
“Sit,” Delilah said.
Maverick sat.
Delilah left the bed and stepped between his parted knees. She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him—a soft, gentle press of her lips to his weakened his defenses. Maverick surrendered. What she needed, she was welcome to take. The kiss ended, and he had to breathe deep to maintain control as she placed her left foot on his right thigh. Her sex was raised, thighs parted far enough for him to see her desires. The snaps to the garter stocking were unclipped and slow, and easy Delilah rolled the hose down her thigh, over her kneecap, to her ankle.
“Take it off,” she said.
Maverick honored her request.
A tickle of excitement went through her. With Maverick's gaze locked on hers, he pressed a kiss on her knee. He kissed the inner side of her thigh; she dropped her head back and closed her eyes. Delilah lowered her leg and let her lover remove the other garter, then her panty while she watched. When she touched herself out of shy reflex, it was an act of defiance. His words didn’t say so, his eyes did. Her hands went to her side. She apparently had taken control too far in the mating game they once loved to play. Maverick wanted her to wear the garter belt around her waist with the straps hanging to her thighs' front and back. He grabbed hold of her butt and squeezed.