Chapter 18

WELLS

We head down to dinner together. I'm in the same clothes I had on from earlier since I didn't wear them much, but Delilah changed into actual clothes; much to my dismay.

Her mint green summer dress with cap sleeves fits her belly perfectly, accentuating her naturally curvy figure. I did convince her to put sandals on, because the crazy woman was trying to put heels on instead. Her feet are swollen and sore, and she wants to wear the most impractical footwear.

Holding hands, we step into the elevator, and as soon as the doors slide shut; I catch Delilah's eye, and in one swift motion, I pin her against the elevator wall. My lips find hers, kissing her deeply, passionately. Her fingers dig into my shoulders, leaving a faint imprint. And for a moment, the world outside ceases to exist.

Delilah's laughter fills the elevator as it slows to a stop, and she pushes me back with a playful shove.

"What was that about?" she teases.

"Can't do that at dinner. At least not until they know," I say. "If they ask, we ran into each other in the lobby." I'm hoping to create an alibi for earlier.

"Okay." She nods, her smile wavering slightly as her eyes dart nervously around the space.

I give her a quick peck on the lips, then straighten my shirt just as the elevator doors slide open. The lobby is bustling with people, but all I see is her. As she glides toward the restaurant, I can't help but notice the confident sway of her hips.

Delilah and I step into the restaurant. The warm and ambient lighting illuminates the tables, creating a comforting and inviting atmosphere. The air was alive with the soft sounds of conversation and the delicate clinking of glasses and cutlery. My family sits at a large round table near the window, already enjoying the breathtaking view of the beach skyline. Jonas spots us first, his face instantly lighting up with a wide grin as he rises to his feet.

"Delilah, I'm glad you came," he says warmly, closing the distance between them to embrace her in a tight hug.

Delilah smiles back, her eyes shimmering brightly. "I told you I would," she replies, taking the seat next to my mom.

My mom's eyes dart back and forth between Delilah and me, brimming with curiosity. "Did you two come together?" she asks.

"We ran into one another in the lobby," I reply smoothly, sitting next to my brother.

Our water glasses are swiftly filled by the server, who then proceeds to take our drink orders with a warm smile. We all peruse the menu, making small talk about the vacation so far, skillfully avoiding the topic like well-trained ballerinas. As my mom shares stories from my childhood, Delilah leans in with genuine interest, her eyes lighting up with a teasing glimmer whenever our gazes meet.

Once our orders are placed, my parents bombard Delilah with questions. She handles the rapid-fire interrogation with grace, maintaining a serene smile as she patiently answers each one. With an infectious smile, her laughter echoes through the air. My parents are clearly charmed, and Jonas seems thoroughly impressed. I watch her, feeling a surge of pride. My family loves her. Of course, they do—she's family too, but I can't think of her like that.

She's mine. My woman. My child's mother. My Little Doe. Mine.

Our food arrives, and as I take my first bite, my dad shifts the conversation to the baby.

"So, Delilah, I know you said you had things to figure out with the baby's father."

Delilah hums softly in acknowledgment, her attention fully devoted to her food. "Yeah."

"Do you need a lawyer?" he asks, his tone serious and cautious.

"For what?" she responds, looking up.

"Child support."

"No need," she stammers, her voice quivering, her eyes darting nervously in my direction before snapping back.

"Do you have any names picked out?" my mom gushes, leaning in with interest.

"I do have some thoughts, but I think it's best to share them with the father first before revealing them. He should know my choices before I tell anyone else."

A surge of primal possessiveness courses through me as my cock twitches in response. She's thinking about us, about our future.

"Well, make sure you don't give the child the father's last name. Not unless he plans to be there and agrees to child support. Otherwise, he has rights and if he's going to be a deadbeat, he doesn't deserve you or that child," my dad lectures.

My body tenses up as rage surges inside me, my heart pounding in my chest, as I glare at my dad. I know he doesn't have any clue he's talking about me, but he is. No fucking way do I plan to be anything but the best father that baby could ever have.

"I think Baby Covington sounds good," I snap, my voice laced with irritation as I clench my fists, feeling the heat rise in my face.

Delilah gasps, her breath escaping in a high-pitched squeak, causing my brother to turn his attention to her and then to me.

With his eyes narrowing and his brows slanting, his face takes on a stern and focused expression. "I think that's a bit much, Wells. She just found out about us. Giving the baby our last name is too fast. Don't overwhelm her."

"I'm not overwhelming you, am I Delilah?"

Without uttering a word, she locks eyes with me, her lips forming a thin line and her eyes widening with surprise.

"Leave it, Wells," Jonas snaps.

I commend him for standing up and protecting her, but she is mine. The scent of jealousy hangs in the air as I make my claim. "The baby will have the Covington last name. It's my baby."

With a loud clatter, my mom's fork falls onto her plate, and her expression shifts to one of disbelief as she gazes at me.

"Delilah?" she says quietly.

Delilah's gaze meets my mom's, her eyes welling up with tears as she nods once, slightly.

All hell breaks loose.

Jonas is out of his seat before I can react, and his fist connects with my cheek immediately. The impact sends me sprawling back, and we both tumble to the floor, him landing on top of me. The force of his punch rings in my ears and my vision blurs.

"You fucked my daughter?" he shouts, his voice raw with rage.

His fists rain down on me, one blow after another, each one punctuated by the same furious question.

"I didn't even know she existed, and you did and didn't tell me? And you fucked her?"

I try to shield my face; the pain radiating through my skull.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Jonas," I manage to spit out, my voice strained. With a surge of adrenaline, I shove him off me, using my weight to roll on top of him. My knuckles connect with his nose, and I hear a sickening crack.

"I didn't know," I shout, my anger fueling my punches.

"Bullshit," he growls, slapping my hand away. He grapples with me, his hands clawing at my face. We roll on the floor, each of us trying to gain the upper hand. The world narrows to the sound of our labored breathing, the thud of fists against flesh, and the metallic taste of blood in my mouth.

With a sudden force, I'm torn away from my brother, a set of strong arms wrapping around me and pulling me up. I straighten my shirt.

"That's enough, boys. We are in public," my dad chastises, and I look around, feeling the weight of all eyes on us. I turn to look across the table and see my mother, her mouth hanging open in shock, while Delilah sits there, her face drained of color, tears streaming down her cheeks.

An employee heads our way with a look of disdain on his face.

"Explain how this happened?" my mother whispers.

"It's evident how it happened, Mom. Wells decided to take advantage of a vulnerable young girl, desperate for any father figure in her life."

"Jonas," I hiss through gritted teeth, my voice barely audible above the pounding of my own heart.

"She's just another conquest on his fuck list. This time, though, you decided to fuck your niece? That's sick."

"Excuse me," the employee says and I see he has a manager nametag on. "Is everything okay over here?"

"Yes. My apologies," my dad responds. "My boys got a little too handsy over a sports game."

"We have zero tolerance for violence. See that it doesn't happen again."

"Yes, Sir. We are getting ready to leave." My dad grunts.

Delilah stands, her face ghostly white, her jaw clenched tightly.

"I'm going to go now," she says, her voice shaking, her eyes darting angrily around the room. "I don't owe any of you anything."

"Delilah," my mom whispers, her voice desperate and pleading as if clinging to a last thread of hope.

"Dinner was lovely. Thank you for inviting me. Rhonda and Roy, I would love to get to know you better. But let's get one thing straight. I didn't know who my dad was until last night, let alone his family. Meeting Wells in Vegas was a strange coincidence, nothing more."

She moves away from the table, her hand lightly grazing its edge, and rounds it, her gaze intense as it meets Jonas'.

"As for you," she begins, her voice steady but edged with emotion, "you don't know shit about me. You know the little I shared this morning."

Her fingers clench into a fist at her side, a sign of the anger simmering beneath the surface. "But know this, Jonas. Me fucking your brother was consensual. I'm a big girl, and I made the decision myself."

She pauses, her eyes narrowing slightly. "He didn't manipulate me or take advantage. In fact, I believe I'm the one who begged him to fuck me in an alley that night."

Her voice grows firmer, each word enunciated with clarity. "I forgot to take the Plan B. If anything, Wells is one of a long list of older men I've had one-night stands with."

She takes a step closer to Jonas, closing the distance between them. "The next time you want to talk to me or about me, you have some goddamn respect, or you can see yourself right back out of my life."

Jonas' face blushes a rosy shade of pink, and he nervously nibbles on his lips. "I'm sorry, Delilah."

"No. You said what you said, and I know it's a tense situation, but you won't speak of me like that again." She crosses to me and pats my chest.

"Little Doe," I whisper.

"You stay here. You have things to work out," she breathes, her voice cracking with a hint of sorrow, as she walks out of the restaurant, shoulders slumped.

"You're an asshole," I tell my brother.

"Boys!" my mother scolds. "Roy, honey, pay the bill, please. We'll meet you in the suite. Seems we need to have a family meeting."

"Yes, darling." He heads toward the front, and my mother directs her attention to us.

"Now, you two. You will pay for any damages your father is going to have to cover."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Let's go to our room. We are going to figure out what's going on, and we're going to do it like you two have been raised. With respect and not punching each other. Just look at your faces."

She points toward the exit, and Jonas and I head to the lobby, shamed by our mother like we are teens once again.