Page 14 of More Than Words (Trickle Creek: The Lyons #2)

Chapter Eleven

Ethan

I ’d never been in Delaney’s little apartment before, but it was exactly how I would have pictured it. It was small. Like, really small. But it was cozy. The windows overlooking the plaza let in lots of light. Or they would have if there hadn’t been a huge snowstorm raging outside.

She had a plant on the windowsill and books stacked on every available surface. Not that there were many. There was no kitchen table, just a little eating bar attached to the tiny cooking space that blended into the living room, which was only big enough for a small couch and a coffee table.

“Your place is cute.” I shrugged out of my jacket and hung it on the hook in the small hallway. I’d left my boots at the bottom of the stairs by the back door, where they could dry.

“It’s not much.” She looked bashful but also proud. “But I don’t need a lot and since I spend most of my time in the shop anyway…”

“I really like it.”

“Thank you,” she said softly. She held my gaze for a moment before quickly looking away. “I was just going to heat up some stew I had in the freezer.” She turned away and busied herself in the small kitchen. “It seemed like a perfect snowy night meal. I have enough for two, if you’re hungry.”

“That sounds perfect.” I stepped out of her way. “We should probably eat before the power goes out.”

“The power?” She looked over her shoulder, worry on her face. “You think it’ll go out?”

“There’s a good chance for sure.” I glanced out the window. “Preston said the lines are already heavy with ice, so I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“Well, this won’t take long. Make yourself at home.”

Delaney was already moving around the little kitchen, pulling together the makings of a meal. I couldn’t stop watching her.

She wore another of her oversized sweater jacket things over a black shirt and jeans. Since coming upstairs, she’d pulled her long hair up into a messy bun and pushed her sleeves up. She looked relaxed and at ease in her natural habitat.

And softer than the sharp, confident woman who single-handedly ran Plot Twist.

It was yet another version of her. Another version that I couldn’t tear my eyes away from.

“I have some candles in the hutch over there,” she said, grabbing my attention. “Just in case the power goes out.”

“It’s not a bad idea.” I followed her directions and found a selection of candles just where she instructed. Some tea lights in mismatched holders, a few tapers, and one vanilla-scented one in a jar that looked like it had been a gift.

I set them all on the coffee table as she joined me with two bowls of stew. “Sorry,” she said. “I don’t have a table, so this will have to do.” She tossed two oversized pillows on the floor to act as chairs right as the lights overhead flickered once, twice, and then stayed out.

“Well, that didn’t take long.”

She laughed. “Good thing we’re ready.”

Together, we lit the collection of candles and settled onto the floor to eat in the warm glow of candlelight.

The stew was delicious. Thick and meaty and homemade. It was easily the best thing I’d eaten in weeks. “Did you make this?”

She shrugged. “I like to cook, but it’s usually only me, so I freeze a lot of leftovers.”

“It’s delicious.” I took another big bite. “If you ever want someone to share with…” I trailed off, unsure of how to finish the thought.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Delaney smiled as she put a spoonful in her mouth.

“We should have a drink,” I said, only half joking.

She gave me a look. “Please don’t suggest beer. No offense.”

“None taken.” I laughed. “And no, I could use a break from beer myself.”

“What about wine?” She got to her feet. “I think I have a bottle of red.”

“Perfect.”

A moment later, she handed me a glass and settled back onto her pillow, cross-legged.

“To snowstorms.” I held out my glass.

She hesitated for a moment before clinking her glass to mine. “To snowstorms.”

We settled into our meals, sipping our wine as we finished dinner and talked.

First, about the storm and what kind of winter we each thought we’d have. She asked about the brewery, and I asked about book sales.

And then she mentioned Ontario.

“You’re from there?”

Delaney nodded. “I ran a little shop out there. Nook & Nest.”

“Sounds cute.”

“It was.” She pushed her empty bowl to the middle of the table and leaned back on her arms. “It was mostly home decor and some local art and things. I loved it.”

“What happened? How did you end up out West?”

She was quiet, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure she was going to answer me. Then she sighed. “My ex-husband. He made a lot of bad decisions, promised a lot of things to a lot of people. Promises he couldn’t keep. Especially not to me.” She lifted her wine to her mouth. “I lost everything.”

“Delaney. I’m sorry.”

She took a sip and put her glass down before looking at me with a small smile. “So was I,” she said. “At first. But I worked hard to build my credit up again and put together some savings. Now I live here, and I have Plot Twist. I wouldn’t change anything.”

Maybe I shouldn’t have asked, but I needed to know. “And your husband?”

“ Ex ,” she said pointedly. “I haven’t spoken to him in years. Last I heard, he was out East still. And if I know Ken at all, he’s still trying to charm his way through life.”

Charm.

All of a sudden, it made sense why, when we’d first met, Delaney continually called me out for being too charming and why she never fell for my smooth moves.

I almost laughed, and she must have realized that I’d put two and two together, because before I could ask, she said, “No, I don’t think you’re anything like him. Not now,” she added.

“But at first?”

Delaney shrugged. “Can you blame me? A good-looking, way too smooth, charming man trying to get me to do what he wanted…”

“Good-looking?”

She rolled her eyes, and I grinned. “No,” I said. “I guess I can’t blame you at all. But in my defense, I didn’t know about your ex.”

“Would it have made a difference?” She tilted her head and gave me a wry smile. “Tell me about Quinn’s mom.”

I probably shouldn’t have been surprised by the question. After all, Delaney did spend a lot of time with Quinn, and there was the whole career day letdown.

“Unless you don’t want to talk about it,” she said quickly. “I understand if?—”

“It’s not that.” I stopped her. The last thing I wanted was for Delaney to think there was anything left between Polly and me. There most certainly wasn’t and hadn’t been for longer than I cared to think about. “I was just a little surprised by the question, is all.”

“You were? Really?” A smile teased at her lips.

“Only because…well, I don’t give her much thought, if I’m being honest. Not beyond the fact that she’s Quinn’s mom.” I shrugged. “She’s kind of self-selected her way out of our lives.”

“That’s so sad,” Delaney said. “For Quinn.”

I couldn’t help but grin a little. “For Quinn,” I agreed. “Definitely. But sadly, she’s mostly used to her mother’s absence by now. It’s been this way almost from the beginning.”

“Even when she was a baby?” We’d long since pushed the coffee table out of the way and brought a battery-powered space heater upstairs to keep us warm. Delaney turned so she was facing me, cross-legged. “Surely, when Quinn was…”

She trailed off when I shook my head.

Delaney

My heart ached for a little girl who had an absent mother. And for Ethan, too. It couldn’t have been easy to raise a daughter with a partner who was uninvested.

“It’s okay,” he said with a small smile.

“Polly and I should never have been married. We were never right for each other, only by the time we realized it, we’d been married a little over a year, and Polly was pregnant.

We tried to make it work. For Quinn’s sake.

” He chuckled a little. “We tried way too long, and it was never going to work. Truth be told, we should have called it years earlier than we did, but…”

“But you didn’t want to give up.” I reached for him and took his hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

He glanced at our hands and then back at me.

“Exactly,” he said after a moment. “You never get married thinking it will end in divorce. Especially when you have a kid to think about. But ultimately, we decided it was probably best to model single parenting instead of…well, whatever it was that we were doing.” He chuckled softly, the sound low and self-deprecating.

“It’s funny, because it’s not like things didn’t work out because one of us cheated or anything.

In many ways, that might have been easier. It might have made more sense.”

I stayed silent, giving him the space he needed. I got the sense that he didn’t speak about the situation very often. If at all.

“We weren’t angry all the time,” he added after a beat.

“We only really fought when she let Quinn down, which she started to do more and more. Her career is the most important thing in Polly’s life.

I guess I thought it might change after Quinn was born, but it was almost like it became even more important.

I was building a career, too. But when Quinn came along, the world of finance didn’t hold the same appeal, so I opted to stay home with her.

“Polly was just so driven, but in a way that wasn’t healthy.

For a while, I wondered whether she’d applied that same drive to our marriage if it might have worked, but I don’t think it would have.

We are fundamentally very different people.

By the end, there wasn’t any love between us. It was just…cold.”

He drifted off, his gaze moving past me as if he were seeing something that was no longer there. After a moment, he shook his head and looked at me again with a small smile. “And that’s no way for a little girl to grow up, so…” He held up his free hand and dropped it with a shrug. “Here we are.”

“Here you are.” I offered him a smile and added, “She’s lucky to have you.”

“I’m lucky to have her.”

The candlelight flickered between us, and I realized I was holding my breath.

Maybe it was the storm. Or the wine.

Maybe it was the way we were finally opening up and getting to know each other properly.

But right at that moment, cross-legged on my living room floor with the storm raging just outside the window and the world shrinking between us, I wanted to tell him everything.

Things I’d never told anyone before.

The way I knew how it felt to be someone’s afterthought.

How I’d also spent way too long in a marriage that I knew wasn’t right. And I’d spent far too long convincing myself I didn’t need anyone in my life. That I would be perfectly fine on my own.

How terrifying it was to realize that maybe I did want more.

And maybe the man I wanted it with sat right in front of me.

I didn’t say any of that.

Instead, I readjusted my hand in his and squeezed a little.

He squeezed back.

“Do you ever regret it?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Which part?”

My lips curled up in a small smile. “Any of it?”

“No.” His answer was immediate. “It’s true we should never have been married,” he continued. “But if I hadn’t married Polly, I wouldn’t have Quinn, and she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

The way he said it with such solid certainty felt right.

“You?”

I’d been expecting the question, but it still stopped me. After a second, I shook my head. “I used to,” I answered honestly. “There was a time when I was so mad at myself for falling for Ken’s charm and losing everything to a man who never could have loved me the way I loved him.”

“And now?”

“And now, I know that if things hadn’t happened just the way they did, I wouldn’t be right here, right now.”

Ethan’s smile made my stomach flip, and when he scooted closer to me until our knees touched, my breath caught in my throat.

His eyes darkened in the soft light and for a second, I thought he might say something else. Instead, he leaned in.

When his mouth found mine, there was no hesitation.

Only heat.

And the desperate, terrifying, beautiful feeling of falling.