Luck Be Delanie Page 9

  Her heart. Was she saying…? Was it possible…? His chest tightened and he dropped the letter, picking up the coin again.

  How long had he wanted this back? Had he blamed all his bad luck on its disappearance?

  The pendant lay heavy in his hand, a tangible reminder of all he’d thought was important to him. And yet, even with the return of the coin, he’d been dealt the biggest stroke of bad luck yet.

  He’d just lost Lanie for the second time.

  * * * *

  “You need to stop freaking out,” Phoebe said, handing her a brownie on a paper plate. “I’m sure he’ll send the paperwork like he promised. It’s only been four days since you left.”

  “I know he will,” Delanie said softly. “I’m not worried about that.”

  “Oh yeah? Then what’s this about?” Phoebe lifted an eyebrow and tossed her black curls over her shoulder.

  Delanie scooted over on the couch in their office, making room for Phoebe to sit down.

  “I don’t know.” She tore off a piece of brownie and sighed. “I guess I just expected to hear something.”

  “Huh? Oh.” Phoebe’s eyebrows rose and she gave a slow nod. “Oh, I see. This is about that letter you left him, huh?”

  Delanie popped the bite of brownie in her mouth and nodded, not lifting her gaze. The rich chocolate treat melted against her tongue and she sighed.

  “This is excellent,” she said after swallowing the bite. “Who made it?”

  “Gabby baked them and brought them in.”

  “She’s fabulous. How are things with her and Justin?”

  “They’re ridiculously happy. You should have seen them this week when—” Her eyes narrowed. “Hey, you changed the subject. We were discussing Grant.”

  Delanie winced at his name, and the fact that Phoebe was so quick to go back to the subject of him.

  “Look, I thought you said you were glad to be off the island,” Phoebe pointed out, nibbling at the edge of her own brownie.

  “I was. I am,” she corrected herself. “It’s just—”

  “Well, thank God you’re out of the denial stage.” Phoebe nodded. “I mean, I could tell the minute you stepped off the plane.”

  “You could tell what?” Delanie touched her neck. Had he left some kind of giant-sized hickie or something?

  “That you’re completely in love with the man.”

  Delanie’s eyes widened, her mouth flapping as she tried to form a response.

  “It’s true, don’t even deny it.” Phoebe gave her a sidelong look while polishing off her brownie.

  “Deny what?”

  Gabby strode into the room, looking extra young with her strawberry-blonde braids peeking out from beneath a San Francisco Giant’s baseball cap.

  At twenty-four, she was already considered the baby employee at the Second Chances office. But, despite her young age, she worked her butt off and there wasn’t a thing she wouldn’t do for the shelter.

  “Nothing. I’m denying nothing,” Delanie muttered. “These are fabulous by the way.” She lifted the small bit of brownie she had left and then popped it into her mouth.

  “Glad you like them.” She turned to Phoebe. “So what’s she denying?”

  “That she’s in love.”

  “I’m not in love.”

  “You’re in love?” Gabby squealed and leaned forward to pat her leg. “That’s so great! Who’s the man?”

  “I’m not in—”

  “The owner of Athena’s Oasis,” Phoebe went on. “They met six years ago and, apparently, he never forgot her. And she shows up at the resort and they end up having mind-blowing sex all week. Well, until she left early.”

  “Oh. My. God. It was just a fling.” Delanie threw up her hands, biting back a scream of frustration. “When did my life become a movie on some women’s network? This is completely—”

  “Romantic. That’s what it is. I’m so glad I’m not the only one getting hit by Cupid’s freaking arrow.” Gabby sighed and twisted the end of her braid around a finger. “So when are you going to see him again?”

  Never. The question was the final straw. Her eyes flooded with tears and her throat grew tight.

  “Oh, no. Oh God. I’m sorry, I totally said the wrong thing,” Gabby said quickly. “I was just teasing you. I mean, flings are great. I used to have them before Justin and I got together.” She broke off, her cheeks bright pink. “So not what you wanted to hear… Umm, you know, I think I hear someone buzzing at that door. I’ll go check that out.”

  She shot out of the room before Phoebe had even handed Delanie the box of tissues.

  “Sorry, we probably overdid it a bit,” Phoebe said quietly.

  Delanie grabbed a tissue and dabbed her eyes, shaking her head. “It doesn’t matter. I mean, it never would have worked between me and Grant anyway.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well, for one, I committed a felony against him.”

  “Hush. If he was going to press charges he would have done so by now.” Phoebe stood up and folded her arms across her chest. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”

  “Okay…” Delanie swallowed against the lump in her throat. “Then there’s the biggest problem. He lives in Washington State.”

  Phoebe stared at her for a moment and then shrugged. “And?”

  Delanie blinked. Didn’t her friend see the problem here? “And I live in California.”

  “What, you don’t want to move to Washington?”

  “Move to…” she trailed off, her stomach in knots over the tempting idea. “Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. I have my life here. We helped this shelter get where it is today—”

  “Delanie, sweetie, you know I love you. But let’s be real.” Phoebe sighed. “Working for an abused women’s shelter was my dream, and sometimes I feel like I suckered you into it. You helped me get up the nerve to get so involved and for that I’ll always be grateful.”

  “But I love Second Chances, Phoebe,” Delanie protested, surprised at her friend’s words.

  “I know you do. And I’ve selfishly kept you here for years.” Phoebe hesitated. “What I’m trying to say is that if you wanted to move to Washington for a guy you’re in love with, the shelter would be fine. Besides, didn’t you just tell me yesterday he’d offered you that job as marketing director for Athena’s Oasis?”

  Just the idea of it sent a spark of excitement through her. The spark was quickly snuffed out with guilt. “I don’t know if he’d still give it to me. Besides, I’d hate leaving you here alone. Especially since you keep thinking you’re seeing your ex all over the place.”

  “Completely my imagination. It’s nothing, I’m sure. Besides, I wouldn’t be alone,” Phoebe replied softly. “I have lots of friends here at Second Chances, and with Gabby getting promoted last month I’ve been spending more time with her.”

  Delanie dropped her gaze, knowing her friend was right. She closed her eyes. Not that it mattered. There was still one part of the equation that made it impossible.

  “You should go, Delanie.”

  “Phoebe, I left him that letter. I made my feelings for him clear…”

  “He loves you too.”

  “Really?” The ache in her chest increased. Her lips twisted downward in disappointment. “If that’s so true, why didn’t he call me? Or come after me? He got everything he wanted from me, and that was the coin.”

  “I don’t care about the coin.”

  The blood drained from her head and she gripped the armrest of the couch. When she opened her eyes Grant stood in the doorway, his gaze locked on her.

  “Okay. Wow,” Phoebe said. “That was weird. You must be Grant. Hi, I’m Phoebe, I work here at Second Chances with Delanie. I just have to say thank you for all you’ve done for us, and now I’m going to walk out the door and leave you two alone.”

  Grant stepped to the side, letting Phoebe scoot past him through the door. Before she left, she turned around and grinned, giving a big thumbs-up.


  He shut the door the minute Phoebe disappeared down the hall.

  Lanie blinked, half convinced she was dreaming. Her heart pounded in her chest and her hands began to tremble.

  “Did you mean it?”

  “Did I mean what?” Her pulse doubled.

  “What you said in the letter.” He reached the couch and sat down beside her, his gaze searching her face.

  She knew to which part he was referring. The part where she’d said she’d given him her heart.

  “Look, you have your coin back.” Emotion became a heavy lump in her throat and she stood up. “Your good luck charm—”

  “I don’t care about the damn coin.” He caught her wrist, halting her from walking away. “And I’ll keep saying it until you believe me.”

  She stared down at him, heat spreading through her body where his fingers touched. “Grant…”

  “If I had been honest with myself in the first place, I could have admitted the truth.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “That my searching for you for six years had nothing to do with the coin, and everything to do with you.” He held her gaze and his thumb brushed over the inside of her wrist.

  “What are you saying?” she whispered, her breath catching as hope flared in her heart.

  “I’m saying that losing you six years ago hurt,” he said with naked vulnerability in his eyes. “But losing you now would kill me.”

  Relief raged through her, weakening her knees. She bit her lip, which began to tremble.

  “Lanie.” He slid his arms around her waist and pulled her close, pressing his cheek just under her breasts. “You’re the only woman for me. I suspected it back then, and I sure as hell know it now.”

  Delanie closed her eyes against the tears of relief and joy. She threaded her fingers into his hair and tugged his head against her breasts.

  “Oh, Grant…”

  “I love you.” He sighed. “And I shouldn’t have taken off for three days the minute I saw that jackass senator show up at the resort.”

  “He was out of line,” she agreed, toying with a strand of his hair. “It was all just P.R. to him. I gave my official response to the media when I got home.”

  “I saw that.” He pulled her down onto his lap. “So, how do I persuade you to move up to Lopez Island and become my wife?”

  Delanie’s pulse skipped, her future aligning quite nicely in her head.

  “You could add a slash to it.”

  “Slash?”

  “I’m kind of holding out for wife slash marketing director of the resort.”

  “Done. You know I wanted you to have that job.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a chain, the coin pendant following. “I didn’t have a chance to grab a ring, but I brought this. I want you to have it.”

  Her mouth parted, her started gaze locking on his. “But I just gave it back to you. It’s your good-luck coin.”

  He fastened the chain around her neck and let the pendant drop against her breasts.

  He touched her cheek. “If ever I had a good-luck charm in my life, you were it. And I don’t intend to let you go.”

  Her stomach flipped and her knees weakened. “Good, because I’m head over heels for you, buddy. I love you.”

  “I love you too,” His mouth curved into a mischievous smile. “Janie.”

  Her eyes widened. Had he just called her—? She squealed as his hands shot out to tickle her sides.

  “Gotcha,” he whispered and then his mouth closed over hers.

  The End

  Preview the next book

  Protecting Phoebe

  Chances Are, Book 3

  Shelli Stevens

  Chapter 1

  A thick fog clung to the San Francisco morning. It really did make a perfect backdrop to the fear residing thick in her gut. People became indistinguishable in the reduced line of sight. All kinds of evil could hide in the thick shadows.

  And she was worried about one in particular.

  Phoebe tightened her grip on the stack of books in her arm and increased her pace to her car.

  How many times had she promised herself she’d never be afraid again? How many daily affirmations had she done to prevent the body-trembling fear from taking over?

  She reached her car, her throat dry and her hands shaking. Jamming the key into the lock, she managed to wrench it open and stumble inside. Her fist slammed down on the lock and she drew in a long, shuddering breath.

  Still think you’re seeing things, Phoebe? a bitter voice taunted in her head.

  Her hands continued to shake as she stuck the key into the ignition. The engine roared to life, screaming loudly as her foot pressed the gas pedal to the floor.

  Shit.

  Fumbling for the brake, she dropped it and put the Civic in reverse.

  Her tires squealed as she pulled out of the parking spot. She scanned the empty lot, her pulse pounding and her tongue thick against the roof of her mouth.

  A couple of rows down in the parking lot she spotted the figure of the man she’d seen earlier. Even in the dense fog, she got a good impression of his physique—tall and on the skinny side. Unfortunately, his features weren’t as clear.

  She hit the gas and rounded the corner in the opposite direction, tearing her gaze from the man.

  It could be anybody.

  An unsteady laugh spilled from her throat and her fingers clenched around the steering wheel. Okay. Maybe she’d convinced herself it could be anybody a few weeks ago, when she’d had the first sighting at the sushi restaurant, but this was too much of a coincidence.

  A short while later, she turned the car onto the highway, casting one more glance into her rearview mirror. There’s nobody there. Calm your ass down, silly.

  She flipped on her stereo and willed her nerves to settle. The fear in her gut began to subside slowly. In its place began the slow simmer of anger.

  * * * *

  “You’re late.” Gabby greeted her the minute she walked in the door of Second Chances, the women’s shelter where they worked. Gabby’s smile faded as they walked back to their office. “What’s wrong? You look awful.”

  “Nothing’s wrong,” Phoebe muttered and strode briskly to her desk. Jeez, her friend really could read her that well.

  “Bull and shit. Something is totally wrong.” Gabby followed her, folding her arms across her chest. “Seriously, Phoebe, you’re like beyond pale and you’re already the whitest chick I know.”

  The urge to confess what had happened this morning flirted with the tip of her tongue. But Gabby didn’t need that kind of emotional dump. Not with everything in her own life going so right at the moment.

  Gabby had been all aglow for weeks now. Ever since she’d fallen in love with her old roommate and moved back in with him. Phoebe made sure to check every day to see if a ring had popped up on her friend’s finger.

  “Tell me.” Gabby sat down on the edge of her desk. “I’m not budging—or sharing the box of chocolates Justin gave me this morning—until you tell me what the heck is going on.”

  Phoebe shoved a hand through her black curls and bit back a groan. Gabby knew her weakness for chocolate, but even for the promise of Ghirardelli’s, she couldn’t talk about this morning.

  “Okay, since you’re obviously clamming up like a virgin on prom night, I’m going to take a wild guess.”

  Phoebe looked up, waiting for her to continue. Apparently, Gabby had been holding off until they made eye contact. Her expression gentled and she sighed.

  “Did you see him?”

  Phoebe drew in a sharp breath, surprised again at Gabby’s perceptiveness.

  “Shit.” Gabby shook her head, her expression switching from sympathy to fury. “That settles it. There’s an officer in the other room right now. He’s taking Jenny’s—the new girl who checked into the shelter last night—statement. Once he’s done, you need to talk to him.”

  Phoebe glanced out the window of her office, trying to see bet
ween the cracks in the blinds in the other room. There was an officer here? Was it him?

  Her stomach flipped and she scowled, cursing herself for having such a ridiculous juvenile reaction to the thought of the officer who sent her pulse pounding every time he showed up.

  “Why bother? It’s not like he can do anything,” she said quietly after a moment. “I don’t have a restraining order against Rick. I never filed any charges against him in the past, so there’s no record of abuse.”

  Gabby drummed her nails on the desk, nibbling her lip. “Okay, well, has Rick approached you? What’s going on?”

  “Nothing yet. I don’t even know if it’s him,” Phoebe confessed. “I could just be paranoid—” yeah right “—it could be absolutely nothing.”

  “One too many coincidences. I think we both know that.” Gabby shook her head. “I’m worried about you, Phoebe. And Delanie is worried about you too. Before she moved up to Washington, she made me promise I’d keep an eye on you. And I have to say, this has stalker written all over it.”

  A light tap on the door had them both glancing up.

  Phoebe’s throat went dry and warmth spread through parts of her body that had been cold with fear for the last hour.

  It was him. Officer Craig Redmond.

  His presence filled the doorframe. He was probably just under six feet, but broad-shouldered and built. His hair was short, with closely cropped black curls. His skin a soft mocha, with expressive, coffee-brown eyes that were now focused intently on her. He had great eyes.

  God in heaven, the man was sexy. She swallowed hard and averted her gaze. And young. The officer was probably just barely out of college.

  “Good morning, ladies.” His voice, deep and smooth, sent a shiver down her spine. “I just finished taking Ms. Leman’s statement.” He paused. “Thought I’d check in and make sure there’ve been no problems lately?”

  Phoebe could feel his gaze heavy on her—as she could every other time he’d come to the office when the police were called—and her breath hitched.

  She cleared her throat. “Things are pretty quiet lately—”