Page 64 of Blade
I can’t even call her Delilah anymore. Or Aspen, because she is a stranger to me. I wonder what name she will choose to use? It will be interesting to find out.
Her fingers trail across my chest and her eyes flicker open, a soft smile lighting her face.
“Morning, Blade.”
“Morning, darlin’.”
My voice is soft, as if I don’t want to disturb the peace, and she sighs with contentment.
“Thank you for letting me sleep over.”
I chuckle. “Anytime, darlin’.”
My arm drapes over her, and I pull her closer, for some reason loving this type of intimacy.
Her lashes dust her porcelain skin, and she says in a whisper, “I wonder what the day will bring?”
“Who knows? Perhaps you’d like to take a ride into town for supplies. I could show you the area.”
“I would love that.”
Her smile lights up her face, and I nod. “But first, breakfast. We should shower, dress and head for the cafeteria. They serve a mean breakfast at the Rubicon.”
She nods, a dreamy smile on her face.
“That sounds amazing.”
* * *
We setoff thirty minutes later. One coffee down, which Delilah made while I took a shower after hers. As we walk, I wish I could hold her hand, but it’s too soon for that. In the mountains, it was natural. Here it’s a statement.
We enter the room and I don’t miss the amusement on a few of the Reaper’s and whores’ faces, but I couldn’t give a fuck what they think. I suppose it’s unusual for me to walk in with a lady, but I’m proud that lady is Delilah.
“Is that Razor and Sunday?”
Delilah points to my brother and his girl sitting at a table by the window, and I nod.
“We’ll sit with them.”
“They must have sorted it out.”
I don’t want to burst Delilah’s bubble because it’s doubtful anything happened last night other than the usual. My brother is worse than me when it comes to declaring feelings, and I doubt Sunday got more than his dick last night.
We head toward them, and Delilah smiles shyly at Razor and sweetly at Sunday.
“Hey, here they are.”
Sunday points to the chair beside her.
“Sit here, honey. Finally, somebody to have an actual conversation with.”
I don’t miss her pointed glare at my brother, who is merely wolfing down his food, oblivious to anyone.
“What can I get you, darlin’?”
“Surprise me.”
Her sweet smile softens every one of my hard edges, and I can finally understand why Ryder King is so different around his wife. Not that we are a thing, but it wouldn’t be the worst thing, and for a self-confessed bachelor, nobody is more surprised by that than me.
