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They retreated to Jaxon's office to continue sifting through business matters. Yet Colton's attention wavered; his eyes repeatedly strayed to the door. Time stretched taut, minutes ticking by until finally, Delcy appeared.
Outside Jaxon's office, the staff's heads turned almost in unison toward her. Whispers buzzed through the open space like static. Colton caught glimpses of curiosity mingled with envy from some of the females within their ranks. Their stares seemed to claw at Delcy’s presence, seeking to assert dominance or challenge her right to be there.
The chair scraped against the plush carpet as Colton stood, a towering figure amid the sleek furnishings of Jaxon's office. Outside, his staff's attention swiveled toward him.
“Delcy!” His voice cut through the hum like a finely honed blade, turning heads and halting whispers in their tracks. The surprise that flashed across Delcy's face softened into something gentler as their eyes met.
As she approached, navigating between desks with the coffee carriers in her hands, Colton's chest swelled with protectiveness. The hostile glares from some of his staff seemed to curl around her like smoke, but Colton stood as her shield, his presence a silent decree that she was under his care.
Behind him, Jaxon chimed in with his own greeting. “Hello, Delcy.”
“Hi,” she said, her voice a soothing melody to Colton's ears.
Without shifting his gaze from Delcy, he instructed Mike and Emma, “Take those to the old fogy in the boardroom. And, Delcy, come in.”
Mike scrambled to comply, seizing one of the carriers that held six cups. Emma took two cups from the carrier still in Delcy's hand. Together, they withdrew in the direction of the boardroom.
Colton watched as Delcy came into Jaxon's office, her grace amidst the sea of scrutiny igniting a sense of pride within him.
As the door closed with a click, sealing off the outside world, Colton felt a shift within him; a lightness bloomed in his chest as her scent—a delicate blend of coffee beans and something uniquely hers—permeated the air around them. Her presence chased away the lingering shadows of the boardroom debates.
Delcy’s hands moved to her face mask, peeling it away with graceful fingers. The action wasn't lost on Colton. It was as though she allowed them a glimpse into her vulnerability.
He watched intently as her features became fully visible, her eyes bright and lips parting in what might be considered comfort. She handed them their coffee with an elegance that belied her humble attire. Their fingers brushed during the exchange, and sparks danced up Colton's arm from the fleeting contact. A smile tugged at his lips as he savored the touch.
“Thanks for bringing these over,” Jaxon said cheerfully.
“It’s no problem at all,” Delcy said, her voice threading through the space between them with ease.
As they settled around Jaxon's desk with steaming cups cradled in their hands, Colton remained acutely aware of Delcy's every move, the way she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear or the way she shifted.
There was an undeniable chemistry brewing among them, a dynamic charged with potential and promise yet grounded in a simple pleasure found within shared moments like these.
It had become their ritual to order coffee from Brewed Dreams with Delcy as their designated courier. Sure, they could've visited the shop themselves after work hours, but this was about more than caffeine. It was about her scent permeating their space, subtly marking it as hers, too.
Colton sipped his coffee slowly, feeling its warmth cascade down his throat while observing Delcy. The brothers were territorial by nature—their office space, their penthouse, and especially their bedrooms were sacred grounds reserved for those they deemed worthy. And Delcy—Delcy was more than worthy.
“How’s your day been?” Jaxon asked.
“It's been good,” she said. “Busy. You?”
“I'm on the hunt for the perfect restaurant for our date,” Jaxon said playfully.
A rosy hue bloomed across Delcy’s cheeks, a sight that stirred something possessive within Colton’s chest.
“You're not a vegan or anything, are you?” Jaxon asked with a casual tilt of his head. “I want to make sure we pick a place you'll actually enjoy.”
Delcy's chuckle rippled through the room, light and unguarded.
“No, I'm not,” she said. The sound seemed to vibrate along Colton's skin, stirring the air around him into a current charged with her presence.
Jaxon's lips quirked up at her response.
“Good to know,” he said with an ease that belied his calculated interest. “I want this dinner to be perfect.”
Colton remained silent, his coffee cup held loosely in his grasp as he absorbed the scene before him. Delcy's laughter had settled into a comfortable rhythm between them, and he could almost feel the balance shift as they each vied for her attention in their own way.
The dynamic was clear—Jaxon with his lighthearted charm and himself with a quiet intensity that seemed to pull at Delcy like an invisible thread. Yet there was no overt competition between them. It was more akin to a dance, a careful negotiation of steps around each other's presence.
