Page 138 of 10 Rings I Hate About You
There it was.
The small tension in her jaw, the way she’d tucked her arms tighter across her body—not defensive, but contained. She was sitting in it—the feeling—running it through whatever internal process she used before deciding whether to give it a voice.
I waited. Let her get there on her own.
“It’s stupid,” she said finally, her voice quieter. “When she leaned in to whisper to you I—” She stopped, started again. “I know we haven’t exactly defined?—”
“Delaney.”
She looked at me.
I squeezed her hand when she intertwined our fingers and placed a kiss on her knuckles. “There’s nothing going on with Melanie. There has never been anything going on with Melanie. There will never be anything going on with Melanie.” I held her gaze so she could read the truth in mine. “Only one person holds my attention. And it’s been true for a long time.”
Delaney gave me a soft smile and leaned in. “What were you whispering about?”
“The older dog. She’s been here over a year. Melanie was afraid speaking it too loudly might make it not come true.”
“Which one?”
I pointed at Marmalade.
“Then let’s see what we can do about that tonight.”
I wanted to kiss her so badly that every muscle in my body grew taut. But we’d made a promise about what this looked like when we worked together. I understood the reasoning. It didn’t make standing even six inches away from her any easier.
My gaze shifted to her mouth. The curve of it. The way her bottom lip pressed to her upper lip like she was holding something back.
I knew what would happen if I gave in. Exactly how fast I’d lose control if I did.
She glanced at me under her lashes. “You’re thinking about kissing me.”
The fact that she knew made my cock sit up and take notice, my body reacting before I could shut it down.
I stepped closer anyway, clearly playing with fire. I placed my lips next to her ear. “Kissing isn’t all I’m thinking about.”
Her breath caught, and that one tiny sound nearly undid me.
Color rushed to her face, and down her throat. She swallowed. “I need water.”
She turned quickly, like staying any longer wasn’t an option if we wanted to maintain our professional boundaries, and walked directly to the water station and chugged two full glasses.
I turned toward the door before I could follow her.
And then heard them.
Not because they were loud—loud wasn’t the word to describe it. More that Glamma moved through spaces the way the pressure system moved through weather patterns. You became aware of a change in the atmosphere before you could identify its source.
Glamma swooped through the door first with Gladys and Goldie flanking her, and Martha two steps behind. The four of them sported coordinated yoga wear that suggested a group shopping trip had occurred. They’d clearly discussed mat placement ahead of time because they went straight to the second row, left side, without consulting each other, and arranged themselves efficiently.
My grandmother spotted me from across the room and her whole face changed—her mouth softened and her eyes lit up in a way that had nothing to do with the conversation she’d been having seconds ago.
Family was everything to her.
I went to her and gave her a hug.
She held me a moment longer than she typically did. I inhaled her perfume, the same one she’d worn all my life. “How’s my favorite grandson?” she asked.
I raised an eyebrow. “You forget we know you say that to all of us.”
