“This is what I want,” Delilah said. “My whole life, this is what I’ve wanted. A best friend. Someone who gets me, who accepts me. Someone who fights like hell to get me to see that they love me. Someone who lets me love them back. Someone who’s so goddamn beautiful, she makes my toes curl. Someone who calls me on my bullshit. Someone who makes me laugh. Someone who makes me look at her like this and looks at me the same way. Someone who . . . who’s my home.”
Tears spilled freely and silently down Claire’s cheeks. “But . . . New York. Your art. You—”
“I can take photos anywhere. I can take trips when I need to. You can come with me. We’ll figure it out.”
“You hate Bright Falls.”
Delilah’s shoulders fell a bit, but she shook her head. “I hated who I was here. How I felt here. But you changed all that. Ruby changed all that. Iris. Hell, even Astrid changed all that.”
Claire frowned. “Astrid? Have you . . . have you talked to her?”
Delilah’s smile was small, a little sad. “She came to New York. To the Whitney.”
“She did?”
Delilah nodded. “And we talked. A lot. She stayed a couple days—not with me, hell no—and we had dinner and worked through a lot. We’ve still got a long way to go, but it’s a start. It’s what I want. She helped me get these photos shipped out so they’d arrive yesterday, and we actually flew back together last night. She let me into the store at the crack of dawn this morning.”
Claire knew that Astrid hadn’t been around for the past few days, but she always responded to Claire’s and Iris’s texts that she was fine, giving nothing away as to where she was or what she was doing.
Claire took the photo from Delilah’s hands. In the image, she was so happy. God, she was happy. She was . . . she was in love. She could admit it now. More than she’d ever been in love with anyone in her whole life. But . . .
“I’m a lot, Delilah,” she said softly, looking down at the photo. “I’ve got a kid, an ex who will always, always be in my life. I can’t just fly off to New York at a moment’s notice, and you’re used to this wild kind of life. I’m a small-town girl. I always will be. Josh built a house—”
“I know. Astrid told me.”
“Then you know I’m here to stay. Ruby comes first. Always, and I can’t—”
“I’m not asking you to put her second. I would never do that.” Delilah took the frame from Claire’s hands and set it on the table. Then she twined their fingers together and pressed her forehead to Claire’s. “I’m putting you first, Claire. In case you couldn’t tell, that’s what’s happening here.”
Claire laughed, more tears spilling over. “Really?”
“Really. I want to try this. I adore Ruby, you know I do. And I’ll follow your lead for how you want to handle us when it comes to her. I’ll do whatever you want. Astrid’s already looking into a place for me to rent in downtown and—”
“But your art.” Claire leaned back so she could see Delilah clearly. “You need to be in New York. If you get an agent, you—”
“I’ve got an agent.” Delilah smiled. “Her name is Julia Vasquez and she’s a goddamn shark and I’ve already told her I’ll be spending a lot of time in a little Oregon town for the foreseeable future.”
Claire squeezed Delilah’s hands. “That’s so amazing. I knew you could do it. Congratulations.”
“Thank you, yes, it’s all amazing, but did you hear the part where I said I’d be spending a lot of time here? Apartment? You? Me? A life?”
Claire grinned. This was happening. Delilah had left, but she’d come back.
For her.
For good.
Claire had no idea how it would work, if it would work. All she knew was that she wanted this. She wanted Delilah Green. And for once, goddammit, she was going to let herself have exactly what she wanted.
“Claire?” Delilah tilted her head to meet Claire’s eyes.
“Can we stop talking now?”
Delilah frowned. “Um, I guess, but are you—”
Claire didn’t let her finish. She closed the space between them and pressed her mouth to Delilah’s, framing the other woman’s face like it was a precious work of art. God, she’d missed her. And from the way Delilah gasped a little, then slid her hands to Claire’s hips and pulled her to the edge of her chair, both of their thighs parting to fit together like puzzle pieces, Delilah felt the same.
“Is that a yes?” Delilah asked between kisses.
Claire pulled back. “To which part?”
“All of it. You. Me. Us.”
“It’s a yes,” Claire whispered against her mouth. “Yes to all of it.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
STELLA’S WAS PACKED tonight. Of course, as the only gig in town, it usually was. Also as usual, the smell of sawdust and beer and cheap perfume permeated the air, the patrons loud and laughing as they relaxed at the end of a workday.
Delilah Green walked through the door in her jeans, boots, tank top, and bomber jacket, just as she had on so many other occasions. But something was different tonight. Tonight, Delilah, for the first time in her life, didn’t walk in alone.
Claire Sutherland’s shoulder pressed against hers, their fingers tangled together as they looked for the rest of their party.
“Over here, bitches!” Iris called from a table in the center of the room, her red hair in two Princess Leia buns and a vodka soda already in her hand. Astrid was there too, offering a much more staid wave, but a wave nonetheless.
In the three weeks that had passed since Delilah had come back to Bright Falls, she’d moved into an apartment over her father’s former architectural firm. Josh’s old apartment, incidentally. It was surprisingly clean and exactly what Delilah needed. Ruby had been helping her decorate it, slowly, because despite her sales from the Whitney and several new commissions her agent had arranged for her, she still needed to budget carefully. Iris even came over one evening, a bottle of bourbon in one hand and a paint roller in the other, and helped her coat the walls in a steely blue. The night ended with the both of them drunk off their asses and laughing hysterically over nothing and everything in the middle of Delilah’s living room floor. The next morning, a hangover the likes of which Delilah had never experienced assaulted her head and stomach, but she couldn’t seem to keep a smile off her face. Everything felt so new, every day—living in Bright Falls, Claire, Iris who felt like an actual friend. She’d even gone out to lunch with Astrid. Twice. Isabel was another story. Delilah wasn’t sure she was ready to climb that mountain, but she kept telling herself she had time. Right now, she was discovering Bright Falls all over again, living inside this cozy town the way she’d always wanted to, the way her father had always wanted her to.