Chapter 3

3

DAMIEN

I f I'm being honest with myself, the last thing I want to do tonight is go meet my investor at one of the fancy but loud-as-hell bars he owns, but I don't have a choice. Making nice with fellow business owners is a whole lot of what my job looks like nowadays, and I know I can't complain, but shit, my head's not in it tonight.

I pull on my suit jacket and tie my laces, nearly tripping over myself when my phone dings. I rush to check the text, hope bubbling up faster than I can tamp it down, but when I check, it's just my driver telling me he's here.

It's not her.

Every single time I get a text or a call, I jump to answer it, hoping it's the woman who's been dominating my every thought. But she hasn't messaged me once.

I sigh heavily, dragging my hand through my hair as I lock up and head down to the car.

Twenty minutes later, I'm getting settled in a black leather booth. Neon lights streak overhead, illuminating the dark club, and pop music blares through the speakers. Thankfully, it's slightly less overwhelmingly loud in this booth, or else there's no way in hell I'd be able to hear Trent as he drones on about all the improvements he's made to this bar in the five years it's been open. Neon's was his first venture into the bar business, and to his credit, it's been a roaring success. Still not my first choice of meeting venues, though.

I take a long sip of top-shelf whiskey, which eases my annoyance a little.

"...so the next step, obviously, is a third location," Trent continues as he takes a seat across from me. The others, Grant and Henderson, two other well-known businessmen who I've known for at least a decade, nod in agreement.

"Where are you thinking?" Henderson asks, raising a brow in question.

I try to concentrate on the conversation at hand, but my mind wanders. Blonde hair, blue eyes, flushed cheeks—the memory of Delaney consumes me. So much so that when I get a glimpse of her, I think I might actually be hallucinating.

I blink, but she's still there. I turn, getting a better view of the bar over Grant's shoulder. Delaney Graeme is leaning against the bar top, chewing her bottom lip as she waits her turn to be served.

I stand before I even realize what I'm doing, my entire focus narrowing on her. The pale blue dress she's wearing clings to her like a second skin, showing off every delicious curve of her body, her legs accentuated by the heels on her feet. My mouth waters, my pace increasing as I push through the crowd to get to her. She looks fucking incredible, and possessiveness roars through me as I notice others noticing her.

She's mine. I hate that anybody else gets to look at her, gets to see her in all her glory. I want to punch every man who looks her way just as much as I want to show her off.

I manage to get to her just as the bartender does. Delaney orders a cocktail, then reaches into the small glittery purse hanging over her shoulder to pay. I step in, sliding in beside her and relishing in the little gasp she makes as our shoulders brush.

I gesture to the bartender, catching his attention as he shakes the cocktail shaker. "Put whatever she wants on my tab," I tell him, and he nods in acknowledgment before pouring out Delaney's pink drink.

"You don't have to do that," Delaney murmurs, thanking the bartender when he slides her glass across the counter. Her cheeks blush that pretty pink I've been thinking of for an entire day, and I barely suppress a groan at the sight.

Fuck, she's perfect.

"I told you I'd take care of you," I answer, a smirk tilting up one corner of my mouth. She swallows, throat bobbing, and takes a sip of her drink. "Why didn't you text me, pretty girl?"

Delaney shivers despite the fact it's nowhere near cold in here. "I … I didn't know what to say," she admits, looking up at me through her lashes.

"You should say whatever you feel," I reply, my eyes locked on to her as she blushes and fidgets under my gaze.

Delaney laughs, shaking her head, blonde wavy strands escaping her updo with the movement. "It's not like I can just text you, a literal billionaire, and say, ‘Hey, I think you're insanely hot, and I want to know every detail about what you meant by ‘taking care of me''," she says in a rush. When she pauses to breathe, her eyes go wide, and her blush deepens, her cheeks going scarlet. She ducks her head, trying to hide her expression behind her hair and looking everywhere but at me.

I reach out, grab her chin, and turn her face back in my direction, making her look at me. "Never hide from me, Delaney," I warn, stroking my thumb along her jaw and savoring how soft her skin is. "I want every emotion, every thought, every expression you have."

I'm drawn to her in a way I've never been drawn to anyone else, and I don't want to hide it. Her lips part as she blinks up at me.

"There's … there's no way someone like you is seriously interested in someone like me."

The sound that comes out of my throat is nothing less than a growl. "Never insult yourself like that again."

"Why?" she whispers, barely audible over the music and loud conversations happening all around us.

I can't help but grin at that breathy question. "Because if you do, I'll need to punish you for it."

The look on her face is stunning. Wide eyes, parted lips, shock and desire swirling in the ocean blue of her stare. It isn't difficult to surmise that my pretty little teacher is absurdly innocent. That only makes me want to take care of her even more. Make her feel good in ways she hasn't even dreamed of.

"Do you want to get out of here, go somewhere a little…"

"Less loud and crowded?" She giggles, and I smile.

"Exactly. Come with me, pretty girl."

She hesitates for a brief second. "I just need to check on my friend," she starts to say as she looks around, and I follow her gaze to find a short brunette making out with a tall redhead on the dance floor. "Well, never mind, she's clearly occupied." Delaney laughs, looking away quickly. "Besides, this place isn't really my scene."

I reach out, taking her hand and tugging gently. "Let me take you somewhere I think you'll enjoy a little more," I offer, and she grins up at me, letting me lead her away.

It doesn't take long to get to Madison's Diner, a far cry from Neon's Bar and perfect for the fact. The diner is small and smells of pancakes, and when I step through the door, Delaney's hand still in mine, the woman behind the counter calls out my name.

"Damien! So glad to see you again!" Madison greets with a big smile. The older lady is as warm as her diner, and I glance down to see Delaney smiling widely at my side. "And who's this sweet thing you've brought with you? Aren't you just beautiful?"

"Madison, this is Delaney," I introduce, leading Delaney over to my favorite booth. It's tucked into the back corner, perfect for people-watching and drinking coffee at 3 AM when trying to prep for very important meetings. God, I don't miss those days. But I do miss Madison's apple pie.

Delaney sits down across from me, looking around excitedly. "I don't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't this."

I chuckle, raising a brow. "Oh? Why's that?"

She blushes. "Well, you're like a super fancy billionaire businessman and…" She pauses, biting her lip before admitting, "I may have Googled you."

"Despite being a super fancy billionaire businessman?" I laugh. "I appreciate a good homemade pie and the city's best milkshakes as much as everyone else. In fact, I used to work long hours here. Madison kept me fueled for years. She's good people."

Delenay's laugh flows over me, and fuck, I'm entranced by her.

"I've got to try her pie and milkshakes then," she answers.

"There's nothing I wouldn't give you, pretty girl," I tell her truthfully. I wave to Madison, who shoots me a wink and starts dishing up apple pie.

"So, what exactly does your job entail?" Delaney asks, looking genuinely interested.

I give her a quick explanation of my job, not wanting to go into all the details. I'm self-aware enough to know that talking about financial investments and banking is not great conversation. "Not nearly as fun as teaching kindergarten, I imagine," I say as Madison comes over with our order.

"Pays a hell of a lot better, though," Delaney sasses back, and fuck if I don't want to hear that sass in her tone every day for the rest of my life. She takes a sip of her milkshake, and her eyes go wide. "Holy shit, this is so good."

"Told you." I laugh, taking a bite of the pie. It's just as good as I remember. "So, Delaney, other than being no doubt the best teacher Lola's ever had, what do you like to do?"

Delany pauses, a forkful of pie halfway to her lips. "Oh, uh, I don't know," she says softly, frowning. "I work, and I try to visit my grandmother as much as I can and check in on my brother, and sometimes Carly drags me out to clubs like tonight."

I wait, expecting her to continue and talk about her hobbies or what she does for fun, but she just trails off with a shrug.

"Pretty girl, you have to do something aside from work and look after other people," I chastise gently.

Her teeth sink into her bottom lip as she looks down at her plate. I reach across the table, tipping her chin back up and holding her gaze.

"What did I say about hiding, Delaney?" I murmur.

She parts her lips to answer, but the beep of my phone interrupts us. I sigh, leaning back to check the notification.

Adrian Findlay. I try not to let my annoyance show on my face, hating the thought of Delaney thinking it's aimed at her. In the preview, my phone shows me without having to open the message; it's clear Findlay's still mad about the property he's desperate for. I swipe away the notification, ignoring him and shoving my annoyance to the back of my mind to focus on my girl.

Once she's finished her pie and milkshake and I've left Madison a generous tip despite her insistence that I don't need to, I take Delaney's hand and walk her home.

"You don't have to walk me back," Delany says softly as we turn left at the end of the road. "I'll be fine."

I tut my tongue, squeezing her hand a little tighter. "Pretty girl, listen to me. You deserve to be taken care of. I want to look after you. Walking you home is the bare minimum."

"Why?" she asks, voice so quiet I nearly miss what she's saying. "Why do you want to take care of me? You don't even know me."

I pull her to a stop, stepping forward so there's barely an inch between us. "You want to know why?" I ask, and she nods. "Because you're drop-dead gorgeous and kind and caring, and you work so damn hard to give the people you love the best lives they can have, even when it means you go without. And because the first time I saw you, something clicked together for me. You're mine, Delaney. I take care of what's mine."

"Oh," she breathes, her eyes sparkling in the stars and streetlights.

The inch between us becomes unbearable. I need to be closer, to prove to her that I mean what I'm saying. I move slowly, not wanting to spook her. I cup the back of her head, sliding my fingers through her hair, and lean down until our lips are a breath apart.

"Tell me I can kiss you, pretty girl," I whisper, needing to hear her say it.

"Kiss me," she replies, her eyes fluttering closed as she pushes up on her tiptoes.

The kiss is soft and gentle, but it sets me on fire. I groan against her mouth, her lips soft and sweet on mine. My cock hardens in my pants, my body desperate for more, for everything. But I won't push her.

It takes all my effort to pull away, but I manage it.

"Perfect," I murmur, staring down at her.

"My place is just there," she says, gesturing to an apartment building across the street, "if you wanted to come in?"

Fuck, is it tempting. But I want to do this right, to show Delaney exactly how she deserves to be treated. So, instead of taking her offer and coming inside, I walk her to the door, make sure to get her number, and wish her goodnight with another chaste kiss.

I wait until I hear her lock the door and then force myself to leave, immediately planning when I'll get to see her again.