Page 85 of Delilah Green Doesn't Care

“Is that really what this is about? Safety?”

“What does that mean?”

He sighed, grabbing the straps of his pack and staring at the ground. When he glanced up, he looked wrecked, exhausted.

“I’m never going to be good enough, am I?” he asked softly.

Her mouth dropped open, but no words came out. Nothing. He nodded, then walked off toward Ruby and wrapped his arm around her shoulder as they headed for a clearly marked trail.

Claire watched them go, waiting for her daughter to turn back and at least smile or wave goodbye, but she didn’t. Panic flared in her chest, but she forced it down. Josh was good at this kind of stuff, after all. Growing up, his parents had taken him and his brother camping all the time, and Claire vaguely remembered a trip he took to Mount Rainier with his best guy friends right after high school graduation. No one died or got lost. No one even got so drunk they fell into a river and nearly drowned.

So yes, Ruby would be fine. Maybe she would’ve been fine all along and Claire didn’t even need to be here.

Maybe that’s what she was actually afraid of.

Chapter Twenty-Two

DELILAH WATCHED CLAIREstare after Josh and Ruby for what felt like a long time. She wanted to drop the sleeping bag she was holding, some mothball-smelling thing that Iris said belonged to Grant, and go over to the other woman and kiss her within an inch of her life, make her forget whatever Josh said or what he might mean to her.

She didn’t.

She pushed her feet into the pine straw–covered ground, forced herself to ignore the panic that laced through her chest like a fire.

Claire wasn’t Jax.

And Claire and Delilah sure as hell weren’t Jax and Delilah. They weren’t together. Weren’t emotional about this. They were fucking; that was it. Secretly, she might do well to remember. The fact that Delilah felt like hitting something right now—hitting, or pulling Claire off into the woods and showing her exactly why Josh wasn’t worth wasting any time on—was purely biological. Something territorial in Delilah was rearing its primitive head. That was all.

That was one hundred percent all this slightly nauseous feeling in her stomach was about.

“She’s been through it with him.”

Delilah blinked, turning to pull a face at Iris, who had come up next to her and was gazing at Claire as well. “What?”

“Josh and Claire. Ruby. They’ve been through a lot.”

“Yeah, so I’ve heard.”

Iris lifted a brow. “From?”

Delilah shook her head, but then realized she could tell the truth. “Astrid.”

Iris’s eyes narrowed, but she nodded, then gestured toward Claire. “She deserves something good. Someone good. Someone who really sees her, you know?”

This conversation was not helping her nausea or the tight feeling in her chest.

“So does Astrid,” Iris went on.

“And so do we all. Yes, it’s all so precious and touching,” Delilah said, rolling her eyes.

“Maybe not all of us,” Iris said, but she was smiling and then slapped Delilah on the butt with her water bottle. Delilah couldn’t help but laugh in relief, this slightly bitchy rapport she had with Iris comforting and familiar by now.

“Hey!” Astrid called, glancing at them with an annoyed look on her face. “Are we hiking to the springs or what? Spencer and I want some exercise.”

“Yeah, ladies,” Spencer said, rubbing his palms together. “We didn’t come out here to talk about lip gloss and hair dye.”

“Oh damn,” Iris said, snapping her fingers. “I thought we were giving you a makeover, Spence?”

He laughed. “Not on your life. And it’s Spencer.”