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But the pull toward Delcy grew stronger each day until it became unbearable. In an impulsive moment born from years of suppressed yearning, Jaxon suggested to Colton they grab coffee at Brewed Dreams.
When Jaxon finally saw Delcy up close, it was as if time stood still. Her scent filled his senses, causing his heart to race and rekindling a desire within him that blazed to life with an intensity he couldn't contain.
What troubled him most was Colton's lack of recognition—his brother didn't remember Delcy as the girl from that fateful night. Part of Jaxon felt relieved. It meant no resurgence of guilt or pain for Colton. Yet worry gnawed at him because despite Colton's ignorance, an attraction simmered between them—an attraction mirrored by Jaxon's own undeniable pull toward Delcy.
Jaxon could not stop their growing attraction any more than he could quell his own feelings for Delcy. It was a conundrum that left him restless; two brothers entwined with one woman—their pasts colliding with their present in ways none could foresee.
Jaxon shook his head in an attempt to dispel the lingering images of Delcy in Colton's arms, but they clung stubbornly to the corners of his mind. The darkness outside was just beginning to wane as he pulled on his workout clothes, the fabric hugging his well-muscled frame.
The gym was quiet, the hum of machinery and the clank of weights a comforting soundtrack to his tumultuous thoughts. Each lift and pull was methodical, a channel for the storm brewing within him. Sweat beaded on his brow, tracing paths down his temples as he pushed himself harder, driven by an inner restlessness that refused to abate.
After showering off the vestiges of his exertion, Jaxon slipped into a crisp suit that complemented his commanding stature. He glanced at himself in the mirror—every inch the Sterling alpha—yet it did little to shake off the feeling that something fundamental had shifted within him.
His drive to work was automatic, a route he could navigate with his eyes closed. But today, autopilot failed him as he approached Brewed Dreams. The familiar pang of longing twisted in his chest at the sight of Delcy through the window.
His hand reached for the door handle; he could already taste the bittersweet tang of coffee on his tongue and feel the warmth of Delcy's presence. But then he paused, fingers tightening around the handle until his knuckles turned white.
The dream, the memory, of that night resurfaced with vivid intensity—Delcy's eyes filled with tears, Colton's voice thick with confusion and remorse, Grandfather Matt's stern reprimands echoing through time.
With a sharp intake of breath, Jaxon withdrew his hand from the door handle as if scorched by flames. He couldn't walk into Brewed Dreams, not today. With one last glance at Delcy—a snapshot to carry with him—he put his car in gear and continued to Sterling Enterprises.
delcy
I stared at the stainless steel of the espresso machine, watching the steam rise in soft curls, as if it were carrying my tumultuous thoughts up to the ceiling. My hands moved mechanically, tamping down grounds, pulling shots, frothing milk. Each latte art heart I poured split down the middle like my own conflicted emotions.
Amanda and Nora's words echoed in my head, bouncing around like a pinball against the bumpers of my skepticism and hope. They had laid out a reality so different from what I had known. And Colton and Jaxon—were their sweet nothings just that? Nothing? Or was there truth tangled in their affections?
“Delcy.” Blair's voice cut through my reverie. “You okay?”
I blinked back into focus. “Yeah, just... a lot on my mind.”
She leaned against the counter, her brow creased with concern.
“You've been off lately. And now you're just staring at that milk like it owes you money.”
I forced a chuckle, though it sounded hollow even to my own ears.
“Listen,” she continued, her tone softer now, “you've got that delivery to Sterling Enterprises soon. If you're not up for it—”
“No.” I cut in quicker than I intended. The idea of walking into that sleek building and seeing Colton and Jaxon... I felt nauseous. “Actually, Blair, would it be okay if I didn't make the delivery? I'm just going through some stuff.”
Blair's expression softened further. “Of course. You don't have to explain. We all have those days... or weeks.”
I nodded in gratitude.
“And Delcy?” she added with genuine concern knitting her brows together. “You look pale and tired. Do you need a couple of days off? You've got annual leave piling up and your sick days are untouched.”
A couple of days off sounded like a lifeline tossed in the midst of a stormy sea. It would give me time to sift through this mess, maybe even confront Lydia with a clear head.
“That would be great,” I said, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders at the thought of some reprieve from the daily grind.
Blair clapped me on the shoulder lightly. “Take the rest of today too. Go home and rest up.”
The bell above the door jingled as another customer walked in, bringing with it a gust of wind that seemed to whisper possibilities.
“Thanks, Blair,” I said with more warmth than I had mustered all morning.
She smiled back before turning her attention to the newcomer.
