Читать книгу Risking Delaney - Rhonda Leah - Страница 6

Chapter 2

A tear rolled down Delaney’s cheek as she watched Callie in the mirror. The white, lace covered-silk wedding dress she wore was classic, made her look like a china doll. Her dark hair cascaded down her back. The veil she held above her head was a timeless piece.

It wasn’t often memories assaulted her, but she couldn’t stop them now, and wrapped her arms around herself.

She could almost feel Mrs. Broussard’s hands pinning the white satin material of her wedding dress around her waist. The gown would’ve been beautiful. Dean’s image appeared in the mirror, a lopsided grin on his face, and she closed her eyes. It seemed like a million years ago…when she’d been that happy-go-lucky girl ready to marry her rodeo cowboy.

A bull named Outlaw had trampled their world. Her life had never been the same since. Trying to hold the sadness at bay, she squared her shoulders. She’d enrolled in Tulane a semester late, where she’d met Callie. Depression had hit her hard and Callie had pulled her out, for which she owed her more than she could ever repay. She blotted the tears from her eyes and went to her friend’s side.

“You look like a million bucks.”

Callie smiled and preened on the dais. “You like it?”

“It’s perfect.” She hugged her. Having such a wonderful friend was a blessing. She wouldn’t let her pitiful memories invade Callie’s time.

“What about you? Try on the dresses I picked? Did you pick that one?”

Delaney looked down at the plum colored-corseted-chiffon nightmare she wore and internally cringed. “No. I’m still trying on.”

“Good,” Callie whispered. “The sales girl picked that one.”

With a finger stuck in her mouth, she made a coughing noise. “Let me go find something a little more tasteful.”

In the end, she chose a beautiful silk dress in what the sales girl called azalea pink.

After the fitting, they had a quick lunch, during which she learned Callie’s parents no longer lived at the campground and had little to do with the place these days.

On the drive back, Callie got a call from Tim, and after speaking with him, hung up.

As they crossed over what Delaney deemed The One-Way Bridge to Nowhere, Callie turned to her and said, “Tim said ‘Brock bailed on golf. I’ll meet you at the Y’…I guess you knew about this?”

“What?”

“Brock has not missed one single round of golf since he moved home six months ago.”

“So? What’s that got to do with me?”

Callie shrugged. “We’ll see.”

They drove under the entrance to the grounds. For the first time, she noticed the sign reading Chandler Bayou Campground looked new, but reminded her of something from the past. Another way of life, a slower time. At the cabin, Callie told her she was on her own to do whatever she wanted until the next day, because she planned to stay with Tim and finish addressing wedding invitations.

Delany had a whole box of wedding programs to fold, and Callie gave her a weekly calendar listing all the activities going on around the campground. At the moment, a soak in the Jacuzzi tub sounded like a grand idea.

* * * *

Brock grabbed the gear out of the Mule and questioned his motives for the tenth time in the past five minutes.

Dragging Delaney down the family side of the trails to the Gulf coast had nothing to do with being alone with her.

When he’d arrived at her cabin, Delaney had opened the door wearing a tank top, cutoffs and flip-flops. It had taken him a full minute to recover before he’d ushered her inside and insisted that she find a pair of tennis shoes and a real t-shirt. He was shocked he’d been able to make the request, but he knew it was for the best.

It didn’t matter. She was still a knock out. Her body bumping against his on the fifteen-mile ride to the coast had him hard. Around her, that didn’t take much.

She’d walked through the thin line of trees and was standing on the beach by the time he made it there. “It’s breathtaking,” she said. “I had no idea we were this close to the Gulf coast.”

“I keep telling my father there are so many opportunities that they have never explored around this place.”

Delaney nodded, but he wanted to kick himself for bringing up work and his problems.

“You grew up here? With Callie?”

“Yeah,” he said, pulling his t-shirt over his head. “I’m about six years older, but when we were young she was my sidekick. I know this place like the back of my hand.”

“I’ll bet. Did you always plan to come back?”

“No.” He baited the hooks, still not sure she was actually going into the water.

“I think Callie always did. She seems happy here.”

“She is, and you’re right she wanted to come back. At least for the past few years.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Brock shrugged. “The place seemed restricting. At least that’s what I used to think.”

“What changed your mind?” She graced him with a smile that overheated his already rising temperature. “I can’t see you living with many restrictions.” She had him there. Maybe she remembered as much of the time they’d spent together as he did.

He let out a low laugh. “I’ve grown up a whole lot in the years I was away, and I’ve been looking at it as more of a challenge, lately.”

“Ah.” She was at his side picking up the pole he’d baited. The sparks that flew between them were almost tangible. “A challenge. That I can see you enjoying.”

Head cocked to the side to avoid the sun, she stared at him with those incredible eyes. “Not that I will pretend to know you.”

You do, he wanted to say. They had connected in a way he didn’t understand, when it came right down to it. She’d pretty much read him like a book from the time he’d stalked into the hotel bar.

“You’ve got it right anyway. I’m always up for a challenge.”

The desire that flashed in her eyes matched his.

“Ever done this?” he asked as he lifted the other pole. He attached the tackle to his side and started toward the water.

“Surf fish? Not in years.”

“You’ve been surf fishing before?” he choked out as the warm Gulf water surrounded his legs. The salt-tinged air filled his lungs. She nodded and eased into the water beside him.

Delaney Breaux was full of surprises.

* * * *

The water was warm and welcoming as it swirled around Delaney’s legs. After a few minutes, she felt confident and relaxed. She’d grown up around the waters of south Louisiana, and even though she hadn’t surf fished in many years, after a few test casts she had the hang of it.

“Looks like you’ve done this a time or two?” Brock asked a few minutes later.

“My family has a camp on the coast, so we went often when I was growing up.”

The pole bent sharply downward The muscles in his arms tightened and flexed as he reeled in the catch. He was definitely easy on the eyes.

When one topped the water, they both laughed.

“He sure put up a big fight for a little guy,” she said.

“Yup.” Brock easily unhooked and released the fish.

A catchy country tune filtered through the air, and she let the waves rock her gently to the music. The sun was high and bright. She brought in the biggest catch of the day. When all was said and done, they had two nice redfish that Brock said he would turn into dinner.

They cast out and reeled in mostly in silence, listening to the radio he had brought along.

She swiped at her shorts as she walked out of the water.

“You look beautiful,” he said.

A short burst of laughter escaped her. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

The wicked twist of his lips made her insides flutter. “Completely honest. I love an outdoor girl.”

“I’m not.”

“You look like one. You fish like one.”

She shook her head. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you looks can be deceiving?”

Although her clothes were mostly wet and her hair twisted into a knot, contentment outweighed her worry of her physical appearance. Those were two dangerous feelings to have in the company of bad boy Brock Chandler.

She’d never been an outdoor kind of girl, but being with him relaxed her. And something about Chandler Bayou made her feel at home. When she kicked off her shoes, the sand under her toes warmed her feet.

“Nothing about you is deceiving. You enjoyed yourself today,” Brock said.

“Maybe. A little.”

“A lot.”

Shoulders squared, she marched over to where he was putting gear into the thing he called a Mule. It looked more like a golf cart on steroids to her.

His hair glistened, became an almost golden color. As he loaded the gear, the muscles on his bare back flexed, making her mouth go dry. He stopped and turned, a hint of a smile on his face. “What are you doing over there?”

She licked her lips. “Watching you. At least you were smart enough to wear swim trunks.”

“I had an advantage. I knew where we were going.” He handed her a container of baby powder. “This will knock the sand off.”

“At least you were nice enough to tell me to put on a t-shirt, even though it’s soaked.” She gave him a thoughtful look. “Of course, maybe that was what you were after.”

His smile lit his entire face. “Maybe. Here. You can wear mine.”

Delaney took the dry shirt he offered, pulled it over her head and held it out far enough so she could extract herself from her shirt. Brock laughed. “You don’t have anything I haven’t seen.”

“We are in broad daylight. Anyone could stumble upon us.”

“Come on.” He tossed her wet shirt in the cooler and handed her onto the seat. “I want to show you something.”

Their flirtatious banter was the most fun she’d had in ages.

She’d only gotten a small taste the real Brock before. He had a larger than life personality and the feelings he evoked in her were downright overwhelming.

They drove for a few miles, and the bumpiness of the road ensured they remained in close proximity. Brock parked at a concrete piling and pulled binoculars from the rear view mirror. He led her to the side of the piling, where there was a makeshift stairway of concrete block.

“Step up to the top,” he said, and held her hand for support as she climbed. Heat flashed from her hand to the already tense spot between her legs.

At the top with her, he held the binoculars to his eyes.

“Here.” He handed them over and leaned around, wrapping her in his arms. “Look, right below the fallen cypress.” His chin rested against her ear, his breath was a whisper on her neck. A shiver danced up her spine.

She looked, and if he had not been there she might have stumbled. “Wow, they’re close. Is it safe to be here?”

He took the binoculars. “You can see them without these. I wanted you to see her up close.”

“Her? You know this alligator personally, do you?”

He laughed. “She’s been in this same area of the swamp for years. I like to watch her sometimes.”

“You can’t know it’s the same alligator every time.”

“Yeah, let me show you.” He lifted the binoculars back to her eyes. “She has a six or seven inch ridge behind her right eye.”

She laughed. “You could have seen the mark just now. If she’s here, there must be dozens of others around here too.”

“Hundreds. I guess you think this is pretty lame entertainment?”

Actually, she was enjoying herself. “No, I think bird watching would be safer.”

“But I live for danger.”

She wasn’t ready for the real Brock Chandler, and might never be.

“I need a shower. Can we go back now?” she said, pulling out of his arms.

* * * *

Hours later, at his place, Brock checked the fish and moved it to the side of grill to keep warm. On his way through the kitchen he poked the potatoes with a fork and pulled the salad out of the refrigerator.

Now all he needed was Delaney. He grabbed his keys from the counter and headed to the back door. A knock sounded from the front of the house, and he retraced his steps, opened the door.

“I…uh. Here.” She held out a covered dish. “I brought dessert.”

“I was thinking maybe you’d be dessert.” Wiggling his eyebrows, he took the dish from her.

She laughed, a deep throaty sound that shot straight to his balls. “I don’t think so. It’s chocolate chip cookies,” she said

“I can live with that. Come on in.” He held the door wide and stepped aside, letting her pass. “How’d you find the place?”

“Oh, I asked at the store. I hope you don’t mind. I wanted to do some exploring, find my way around and such.”

“You’re more than welcome here, anytime. Everything is pretty much marked, the trails, golf course and all. I’ve been working on the signs and a new map.”

Her lips curved, curiosity lit her eyes. “Yes, the map I have could use a makeover. But I managed.”

“Dinner’s ready. Let me go grab the fish off the grill. I was about to walk out the door to come and get you. Make yourself at home.”

Through the window he watched her looking around the house. It lacked many things the new cabins had as far as modern conveniences, but he’d been making out fine. Still, it didn’t compare to his condo in Austin. There were a lot of options here to build a house. He wasn’t in any hurry, though. Granddad only came home every few months.

When he walked inside she said, “You must not plan to stay here. This place isn’t you.”

He chuckled. She had him. Her ability to read him was eerie.

“It’s my granddad’s house. He doesn’t come home much. I plan to build.”

“Good. I don’t see you living here.”

“At least you don’t think my taste runs the same as a seventy year-old man.”

“Not even close.” She had a beautiful smile. They fell into sync at the kitchen counter. She set the table and poured ice tea while he plated the food.

“It smells wonderful,” she said once they were seated. “I’ve missed the food.” She took a bite.

“How long were you in New York?”

“Almost six years. I was ready to move home.”

He nodded, understanding. “I was in Austin over ten years. It felt like home at times, but Chandler Bayou is where I belong.”

“I’m not sure New Orleans is where I belong, but it’s a start, and my grandmother left me her house when she passed away. I’ll have a place of my own, and my family is there and Callie is close.”

They fell into easy conversation, talking about her family, about the camp they had on the water, and summers she spent there as a child. He told her about the Callie following him like a shadow when they were young.

When they’d met before in Austin, Brock had assumed she lived in New Orleans since that had been her destination when he’d brought her to the airport their last day.

He had no idea what had happened earlier when they were looking at the alligator, but Delaney had gone from soft and willing to distant and cold in a matter of seconds.

He didn’t think the tiny kiss he’d given her could have done it, but he had no idea what had. She’d done a one-eighty.

She seemed relaxed again. And he’d like to keep her that way.

* * * *

Delaney filled the sink with hot water. Being alone with him was dangerous. He made her feel things she didn’t know she still could, stirred emotions she’d held contained for years. Before, he’d only been a brief detour from her normally staid life.

When he stopped beside her at the sink, his heat surrounded her. “Well, what’s the verdict? Good weather?” she asked. He’d watched the weather report, since he had an early morning fishing charter.

He nodded, took the dish from her hand, and dropped it back into the soapy water. “Come here.”

He led her out the back door and onto the broad porch that surrounded the house. Holding her hand, he stroked the back with his thumb. A rush of sensation went to her core.

“Look.” As they walked ahead, on one side of the porch the sunset cast a brilliant haze across the lake.

“It’s breathtaking. Everything seems so real here.”

He let out a low hum. “I know what you mean. Living in the city certainly takes away some of the rawness.”

Bending his head, he brushed his lips across hers. The fire that had been simmering all evening low in her belly erupted. His mouth covered hers in a demanding dance and his tongue pressed for an entrance she couldn’t deny.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and ran her fingers through the silky softness of his hair where it met his collar. His hand settled low on her back, and she closed the space between them. His incredible warmth surrounded her. He was heat and hardness against her softness.

A low moan escaped her. Brock took a step forward and she was trapped against the railing. With his other hand, he touched the bare skin of her waist. She wanted more.

His mouth moved from hers, trailing soft kisses along her neck. Leaning back, she gave him better access and sighed, melting under his touch.

This had to stop.

But she didn’t want it to.

She would regret it later. Either way. “Brock…”

“Mmm…” Sliding a hand up her side, he skimmed her breast, and she nearly exploded.

“Brock…I uh. I think...” She sighed at the fiery sensations taking her over, rolling through her.

He pulled back and looked into her eyes. The hunger in those dark chocolate depths nearly did her in.

“Don’t think.” He took her mouth again hard and quick, raw.

Lost, she gave in to the kiss, his touch, and dizzy under his tender caresses, melted in his arms.

Heaving a sigh, she pushed herself a little away. He let her go enough to look her in the eye.

“Delaney? What’s wrong?” He brushed a tear away with the pad of his thumb. Hurt and confusion crossed his features before he masked it. His hold loosened.

Emptiness consumed her at the loss of his touch. The overwhelming need for air and space had her stepping to the side. With an unsteady hand, she touched his arm. “I…I’ve got to go. I’ll uh, see you later.”

She was almost to the front door, when he called her name. Using all the willpower she could summon, she didn’t look back, and walked out.