Delilah

Staring.

I’m staring at him again. The way his muscles work fluidly together, the veins popping out with the least bit of effort he puts into a task.

His arms . . . they’re better than any porn I can imagine.

Jason Koster was always gorgeous. Tall, dark, and handsome was envious of what that man possessed. His body is hard, the fittest I’ve ever seen him, and he was fit when he played football, but this is different. This peak physical fitness makes me even more curious how he stays in shape, and why to this degree. “Do you still play football?”

He stops and stomps a plank of the dock with his heel. When he glances up, he replies, “No. Billy and I have tossed the ball around a bit, but that’s all really.”

“You got a tattoo.” I run my hand over his bicep and tilt my head. The tattoo is on the underside, kind of hidden. “On your arm,” I add, as if he doesn’t know it’s there.

“Two years ago. It’s a design I saw graffitied under a bridge in Seattle. I took a pic. I wish I knew the artist so I could show them.”

“Why did you choose that design?”

“It spoke to me. If you look closely, the detailing of the clouds mixed with the darker sky. Blurring the night with the day.” He shakes his head gently. “Can the light fight the dark? Can it survive?”

“Is that how you feel? Are you surviving the dark?”

“Right now? I’m living. For the first time in a long time I’m living.”

Looking satisfied, he comes back to me . . . back to me . . . He’s now staring deep into my eyes, and I can’t seem to look away. When a smile crosses those full lips he asks, “Can I have the blanket, Delilah?”

Snapping me back to reality, my eyebrows shoot straight up. “Oh, yeah, here.” I shove the blanket I was holding like a lifeline into his hard, brick-like abs. Peeking down, I can see the muscle beneath the button-up shirt, that six-pack calling my attention right to it.

From his close proximity, my heart begins to race. With the blanket bunched in his arms, his eyes lower to my lips before he leans forward. My lips part as I suck in air, needing help to breathe. Stopping, he looks at me and whispers, “Did you think I was going to kiss you?”

Mortified, my head jerks back. “No!” Yes. “Not at all.” Oh my God! I’m so embarrassed. And I was going to let him. Not just let him but kiss him back. I know I was. Oh, good gracious. I walk around him and point at the dock like that is actually going to deflect the humiliation creeping up my skin in a fiery, blotchy haze. “Is the dock safe?”

Staring. He’s staring again. “Yeah,” he chuckles when he speaks. “It needs a little work, some planks replaced sooner than later, but for tonight, as long as we don’t jump up and down on it, it’s good to go.”

He goes to the dock and spreads the blanket. I grab the picnic basket from the truck to keep my mind off the fact that I would have totally kissed Jason Koster if he’d kissed me. The man is magnetic, and I’m weak to his pull. Will this never change? Even after he broke my heart?

Reaching in after me, he grabs a small cooler, a few pillows, and follows me to the dock.

The scene is set, the sun going down. The cicadas get louder as early evening becomes twilight. He’s thought of everything, including wine. He fills two glasses with Sauvignon blanc, while I pull the containers out of the basket. I expected beer, but he’s pleasantly surprising me. “You went all out.”

“I wanted to.”

“Why?”

“Do you like chicken salad?”

He may have avoided the question, but I don’t point it out. Sometimes we need time to work through things. I’m still curious why he was so insistent to see me though. “I love it.”

“My mom taught me how to make her recipe. She makes the best with the grapes and celery.”

“Hers is the best. She’s a wonderful woman.”

He takes a baguette out and starts cutting it into pieces. “She says the same about you.”

The compliment makes me smile, but the baguette fascinates me. “Where did you get that? I know Smally’s Grocers doesn’t sell French bread.”

Glancing up, his darker eyelashes highlight the golden centers of his eyes. “I ran over to Kerbyville. They have a bakery just this side of downtown.”

“That’s forty-five minutes away.” I’m not so much asking a question as questioning why he drove so far.

Returning to the bread, he slices the pieces open, and takes the chicken salad container from me. “It was the closest bakery.”

“But it’s bread.”

“You don’t like it?”

I struggle to comprehend why he would drive two towns over for specialty bread. “I love it. I just . . . you really didn’t have to go to this much trouble, Jason.”

“I had some time to kill this afternoon.” He hands me a sandwich and says, “Did you know Smally sold the store?”

Smiling, I reply, “Yes, I live here. It was big news when he announced it. Raina Smilth and her fourth husband bought it and promised to keep the name.”

“I hope so. It’s a legend around here.”

“Well, Raina’s fifth husband disagrees, but I heard she filed for divorce last week, so he won’t have a say anyway.”

He laughs. “Wow, isn’t she only like fifty?”

“She brags she’s had one for each decade of her life.” I laugh now, feeling silly talking about this.

Silence seeps in as we eat our sandwiches. I notice how his eyes take in the area as if he’s scanning more than casually looking around. He says, “It’s not changed at all out here.”

“The whole world seems to except this little plot of land, which forever remains unchanged.”

“I like it. It’s exactly how I remember.” I look up when I feel his gaze lay heavy on me. He adds, “You haven’t changed either.”

My head lowers and I feel self-conscious. I hate that my cheeks heat under the most innocent of comments. Setting my sandwich down, I tug at my skirt with one hand and pick up my wine with the other. A single finger touches the base of my chin and lifts up. “I like seeing your eyes and your sweet face.”

“I don’t feel so sweet these days.”

“Can I ask you something, Delilah?”

I know what it is. It’s always the same. People are baffled with how I ended up with my boyfriend’s best friend. Gullible. Naïve. So stupid. Something about Cole or the divorce.

Coming out on the other side of this nightmare I survived, I see how he twisted the truth and made me believe I wasn’t good enough to hold on to Jason’s love, to keep his attention when he would soon be surrounded by so many girls and then the NFL would call. I stood no chance at all. Sabrina taught me that jealousy makes women vicious. I’d be an embarrassment on his arm. My accent would be mocked. He’d eventually see what he could have would be better than what he had at home.

Cole did a number on my head, which destroyed my heart. I don’t understand why Jason is back, but I can’t deny I still have feelings for him. Does one ever get over their first love?

“God, I’m the most boring person ever, Jason. What could you possibly want to know about me?”

“Why are you still here?”

“I live here.”

“No, why are you still in McKinney?”

Taking a sip of wine, the cool liquid is counteracting the heat of the evening. I like how I feel less pressure with a little wine in me, more relaxed, or maybe it’s that Jason puts me at ease. He used to. I never had to be on guard with him. Not like Cole. He made sure I stayed on guard and the few unfortunate times I forgot that lesson, I paid the price. “It’s complicated.”

“I’ve got the time.”

Leaning back, he relaxes as he settles in as if this story is worth the attention. “It’s not exciting.”

“I’ve had enough excitement. Now I want to hear about you.”

I want to redirect conversation away from me, but I have a feeling he’s much better at this game than I am. “When my dad died, he left the farm and all fifty acres to me and my sister. We also inherited a lot of debt that went with it.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Your father was a good man. I know he thought hard work was the answer to everything.”

“Except to get him out of debt. He struggled to keep up with the crops.”

“How do you keep up?”

Pointing across the property, I reply, “We only have two working plots. The others have gone to weeds.”

“We?”

“Shelby and I. Oh, and Billy. He helps us more than he should.”

“He’s a good guy.”

“Yeah, I’ve been trying to get my sister and him to go on a blind date.” My giggle bubbles up.

“I don’t think that’s how blind dates work. They’ve known each other their whole lives.”

“No,” I start, my excitement to hook them up taking over my voice. “Not like this. They still see the gawky sides of each other. They need to see each other the way they are now. It’s been a few years.”

He finishes his sandwich and leans back on one elbow facing me. “Where is Shelby?”

“After college she went to Chicago. We thought she was starting her career, but what she ended up doing was saving the farm.”

“How so?”

“Although the debt was overdue, the bank gave us a three-year extension to pay it off. We have one year left. She works and pays money toward the loan.” The fun of the dating conversation is over and the burden that weighs me down with worries returns. “I gave up leaving to stay here and work it.”

“Is it what you want?”

“I used to. It’s really lonely.” I laugh humorlessly. “That’s not a hint by the way.”

“I didn’t catch it if it was.”

“I have a feeling you don’t miss much.” I finish my wine. “Tell me about what you’ve been doing since I last saw you.”

“Hmm . . . the last time was when I saw you walk into Red River holding Cutler’s hand. That was all I needed to see. I knew it was over. I realized there was nothing keeping me here anymore.”

Ouch. If he only knew the truth. I missed him so much that I ached inside as I withered away. It was easier to pretend I’d never experienced pure love like I’d had with Jason. My sister was so worried about me, but I still couldn’t bring myself to confess what was happening behind closed doors. The humiliation of them finding out the strong girl they once knew was weak. And then Jason was gone. Thin air, like the memories I held on to. “Your mom was here.”

Lying all the way back, he rests his hands under his head and stares at the sky. “My mom can take care of herself.”

I whisper, “I was here.”

“You were being taken care of . . .” He pauses and looks out at the water and away from me for too long. When he turns back, I see some of the pain I feel inside residing in his irises. “You weren’t mine.”

You had already decided you were leaving whether I was with you or not. “And if I had been?”

“Then I would have had a reason to stay.”

What? He had been moving on. Without me. Even though Cole told me time and time again that Jason had moved on, should I have listened to my heart? Should I have known better, and not allowed my pride to stop me from finding out the truth? He needs to know maybe I’d been wrong. “It wasn’t over for me. That night you saw us. It wasn’t over for me until he told me how you’d met someone over at State. God, I felt so foolish and hurt.”

“It was lies, Delilah. I loved you so fucking much. What did he tell you?”

What didn’t he tell me?

“He said you didn’t want me. Cole told me everyone in town considered me used goods. He said he’d love me, and since I thought you were seeing other girls, I relented. Looking back now, I can see how he got me at my weakest and took advantage. He talked me into marrying him. Without my sister by my side. Alone. The county clerk was our witness. She took a call regarding an escaped bull on the highway in the middle of the ceremony. He thought I was crying from happiness. I was devastated.”

“Why didn’t you call me, return my texts, or come see me? Find out the truth.”

“I was humiliated. You left, I believed him. I saw the stares, believed others would only see me as sloppy seconds. People respected Cole back then. I felt like an embarrassment to my family. Cole was a second chance.”

“Fuck, Delilah. If I’d known—”

“See, that’s just it. We can beat ourselves up, but it won’t change anything.”

My directness is unsettling. I’m used to sitting in my farmhouse alone at night and not having to answer to anybody anymore. Why confide true emotions to Jason? Why now? “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“I’m glad you did, but I want to know why you’re so upset. You broke up with me not the other way around.”

“I broke up with you because you broke my heart.”

“How did I do that?”

My mouth drops wide open. “Really?” What the hell? How can he not remember something that’s scarred me for life?

“Yeah, really?”

I’m too wound up to sit still. I stand, walk off the dock into the grass, and start pacing under the same moon that hung high in the sky that first night I lost the love of my life.

When I turn to look at him, to possibly answer, I’m stunned into silence. His expression is one of pure curiosity as he watches me. “You don’t get it, do you?”

“No, but I want to.”

My emotional artillery falls like the walls I’ve built to protect myself. How can I stand here with weapons loaded when he sits there unarmed? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t understand how much he hurt me, which might mean he never intended to hurt me in the first place.

Whoa.

My head is spinning, my thoughts whirling with all the angles I thought I had covered regarding our breakup years earlier. Sitting down in the grass, I look at the man he’s become. He’s still so much the man my heart misses. Could I have had it wrong all along? The years we lost . . . they form a lump in my throat, but I manage to ask, “You weren’t going to break up with me when you came over to tell me about the transfer, were you?”

He looks up at me with his head tilted, shaking it a little. He appears so . . . troubled. So sad, and I feel the same. He looks me straight in the eye. “No, Delilah, I wasn’t. I was going to ask you to marry me.”