The Stranger, page 28
“When did you do all this?” I ask with wide eyes.
He winces slightly. “I told my mother I was going to propose … she wanted to help. She may have gone a little overboard.” Well … maybe a little, but I think it looks lovely. “She and her little minions snuck in earlier this morning, whilst we were sleeping.”
“Your mother knew? She just called me on the phone and chewed me out for not telling her.”
“I know. I’m sorry about that, but I had no choice but to ask her to intervene. These old weary bones of mine … I wasn’t sure how much longer they would hold out in this position.”
The smile on my face grows. “You’re finally admitting you’re old?”
“I’m admitting to nothing,” he grumbles. “I asked her to call you because I thought taking our relationship to the next level, in a similar way to which it started, was a novel idea.”
“I love you,” I say, taking a step forward.
“I love you more,” he counters as he rises. “What do you say, sweetheart? Will you spend the rest of your days by my side?”
Tears rise to my eyes as I leap into his arms. “There’s no place I’d rather be.”
When our lips finally part, Spencer places me back down on my feet and reaches for my hand. “I take it that is a yes?”
“It’s a big, fat, giant yes,” I reply as a knot forms in the rear of my throat.
Is this really happening?
Is this beautiful man going to be mine for keeps?
He slides the ring onto my finger and it fits perfectly. “That was a great guess with the size,” I say, bringing it closer to my face to admire the way the diamond shimmers under the light. It’s a single solitaire around the size of my fingernail. I do not know what that is in carats, but it’s huge. Like mega. A vast difference to my last one, which I loved just as much at the time.
“Remember that costume jewellery my mother had you try on the day of your sister’s engagement party?” he asks.
“Yes.”
A sheepish grin is his only reply.
This moment hasn’t been done on a whim. It was a perfectly calculated plan. It has nothing to do with the rumours at work because he didn’t know they were even a thing back then.
“Come, future wife,” he commands, threading his fingers through mine. “Our feast awaits.”
“Feast?”
He leads me towards the kitchen and my eyes bug out of my head when I see the seemingly endless number of platters, laden with fresh food, laid out before us. A variety of fruits, pastries, quiches, croissants, muffins, breakfast sliders … the selection is extensive.
“Are we expecting company?” I ask.
He leans down and brushes his lips against my forehead before picking up a plate and passing it to me. “You should know by now my mother does nothing by halves.”
“I adore your mother.”
“And she adores you right back. We both do.”
I’m still grinning as I pop a big juicy grape into my mouth.
How did I get so lucky?
While I continue to pile my plate with all the deliciousness, Spencer retrieves a bottle of champagne out of the fridge and grabs two wine flutes.
“You realise it’s not even eight yet?” I say as he removes the cork from the bottle.
He lifts one shoulder. “It’s not every day you get to toast a momentous occasion like this.”
After pouring a small amount into each glass, he holds one out to me. I place my plate down and take it from him.
“Thank you.”
I hold my breath as he raises his glass in the air. “To the gorgeous, heartbroken woman who manifested an online love story with a stranger, that turned out to be one worthy of the pages. May our days be filled with laughter, our nights with shared dreams, while our hearts remain forever bonded by the beautiful adventures that await.”
Cue the tears.
Chapter 37
Spencer
“Have you given much thought to the type of wedding you want?” I ask my beautiful fiancée as we take a walk hand-in-hand down to the stream that runs through the middle of my estate. It’s a word I wasn’t sure I’d ever use, and one I didn’t realise I’d enjoy saying as much as I do.
“Something small,” she answers. “Just family and a few close friends.”
“Family, as in yours?”
She winces as she playfully pokes my stomach. “I have to invite them. I want my mum there. As for the other two …” She lifts one shoulder. “Unfortunately, the three of them come as a package deal. I don’t think my mother will come without them.”
I blow out an exaggerated breath. She’s a better person than I am because I have no intention of inviting my father. I haven’t heard from him since I bought him out of the company, but that does not perturb me. I want nothing to do with that man.
I have no qualms about her family being there. I’m more concerned they’ll say or do something to upset Delilah on her special day. If they do, they will be feeling my full wrath.
“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” I say, bringing our conjoined hands up to my mouth, so I can lay a kiss on her knuckles.
“Do you think I’m pathetic for wanting them there?”
“No!”
Sadly, she seems to believe that getting validation from them will give her inner peace. It won’t, because I’ve dealt with people like her father and sister, and they’ll never change. I can, however, understand that after chasing a pipe dream for twenty-two years, walking away can be challenging.
“Do you ever wish you had a better relationship with your father?”
“Maybe when I was younger, but now I accept it for what it is.”
“I feel like I’ve been waiting my entire life for them to see me. To accept me for who I am. Eventually, I know I’ll have to face the fact that no matter what I do, my family may never change … but I’m not quite there yet. Until then, I’ll continue to hold out hope.”
“Just know that your value doesn’t decrease based on someone’s inability to see your worth. You are worthy, Delilah, don’t ever forget that.”
“Thank you,” she says, tightening her grip on my hand.
“You’ll probably find your tolerance towards those who mistreat you will dwindle with age.”
“Is that what happened with your father?”
“Yes.”
“Do you plan on inviting him to our wedding?”
“No. My mother will be there, that’s all I need.”
“I don’t have a big family. My father is an only child, but my mother has one sister, so I’d like to invite her and her husband, Jim, and my two cousins, Adam and Oliver. They’ve always been kind to me. Both sets of grandparents have passed away,” she adds, doing the sign of the cross with her free hand. That action brings a smile to my face. “Why are you smiling? Do you think it’s amusing that my grandparents are no longer with us? Because that’s rather callous and cold if you do.”
“Not at all,” I reply, schooling my expression. “I’m sorry to hear that, Delilah, but that cute little sign of the cross you did was adorable.”
She rolls her eyes. “It wasn’t; it was respectful.”
I bump the tip of her nose with my finger. “I find a lot of the things you do cute.”
“Aww. I find these growly lines you get when you are annoyed kind of adorable too,” she says, tracing her fingertip along my forehead. “Or are they wrinkles?”
“Adorable is not a word I’d ever use to describe me, and no, they are not wrinkles,” I growl.
Her grin widens. “What words would you use to describe yourself then?” she asks.
“Manly for one.”
“You’re very manly,” she replies. “Oh, and handsome?”
“I’m not opposed to you saying that.”
She lets out a sweet laugh. “And mature aged.”
Letting go of her hand, I slide my arms around her waist from behind and swing her in a circle, which makes her squeal. “Are you itching for another spanking?”
“Maybe.”
I place her back on her feet and turn her to face me. “I can arrange that.”
She waggles her eyebrows. “That’s what I was aiming for.”
I bark out a laugh. I hope this woman knows the joy she brings to my life. Not a day passes that I’m not grateful to have her by my side.
Leaning in, I place my lips against hers, because I’ll never miss an opportunity to kiss or touch this woman. My favourite moments always include her. “I love you.”
“I know,” she says, her blue eyes sparkling. “Do you know where we should have the wedding?”
“Where?”
“Here, at the estate. How pretty would that be?”
This place has always been special to me, even more so now that I get to spend our weekends here together. “If that’s what you want, we’ll make it happen. The sooner the better.”
Her eyes slightly widen. “Like how soon?”
“How does the end of the month sound? We’ve been engaged for months now; we should set a date.”
“I agree, but this month?” she squeaks. “I don’t even have a dress yet.”
“I bet you and my mother could find you the perfect dress by tomorrow if need be.”
“I don’t doubt that, but what about catering? Three weeks isn’t a long time. I’d be lucky if I could find someone with an availability with such short notice. They’re probably booked out months, if not years, in advance.”
“Nothing is impossible when you have money, Delilah.”
“Ooh, sorry, Mr Fancy-pants. Sometimes I forget you’re a gazillionaire and can buy things mere mortals can’t.”
“Are you mocking me, future Mrs Fancy-pants?”
She throws her head back and laughs, so I nuzzle my face into the crook of her neck. “You’ll be a gazillionaire by the end of the month. Once we are married, what’s mine will become yours.”
Drawing her face back, she gives me a serious look. “I don’t want your money, Spencer … all I want is you.”
“You’ve got me, for as long as you want me.”
“How does forever sound?”
“It sounds perfect.”
“Can you believe this is our life?” she asks, snuggling into my side as we continue our walk. “Sometimes I feel the need to pinch myself.”
I drape my arm over her shoulder and pull her closer as I place a soft kiss on her hair. “Sometimes life will take you to unexpected places, sweetheart, but true love will always bring you home.”
By the end of the month, as expected, my mother was able to perform miracles. I almost can’t believe that it’s the night before our wedding day.
Delilah’s dress, which I’m yet to see, is hanging in one of the spare rooms upstairs, and a giant, outdoor marquee was erected today on the grounds, facing the beautiful picturesque view at the rear of the property.
A team of florists, decorators, and caterers will arrive first thing in the morning to finish the last-minute preparations for our big day. Delilah commissioned a local artist to build her a rustic, wooden arbour with floral accents, whatever that means, down by the stream—her favourite spot and where our wedding is being held.
We have only invited fifty guests, with the majority set to arrive tomorrow, but tonight we are hosting our immediate families.
Which should make for an interesting evening—or a disaster in the making.
Delilah’s parents, sister, and newborn nephew are due to arrive shortly. Thankfully, fuckface will not be accompanying them. He stuck by Abigail for the duration of her pregnancy, but when the baby was born with jet-black hair and an olive complexion, he walked out of the delivery room and never returned. I’m gathering she got more than a free holiday and a tan when they vacationed in Hawaii.
My mother has been here since yesterday, with her minions in tow, to direct the workman. I could tell she was in her element. We’ve virtually given her free rein. The only thing that’s important to us is the exchanging of vows. Words that will bond us for the rest of our lives.
When our company finally arrives, it’s awkward, to say the least. Delilah acts like she’s happy to see them, and maybe she is. Me? Not so much. I can tolerate Mrs St. James, but the other two …
After she hugs the three of them and introduces them to my mother, Delilah makes a beeline for the pram where her new baby nephew lays, wrapped up in blankets like a tiny burrito.
“Oh, look how little he is,” she coos. “Can I hold him?” she tentatively asks her sister.
“No,” Abigail barks in reply as her narrowed eyes move around the expansive foyer of my estate.
“Abigail,” her mother chastises.
“Fine, whatever,” she retorts with a flick of her hand. I hear my mother clear her throat from beside me. “Is this where you live?” Abigail asks Delilah.
“This is their weekend home?” my mother answers, and I love that she said their.
“Weekend home? Where do you live during the week?”
“In Spencer’s penthouse. It overlooks Sydney Harbour,” Delilah replies with a shrug. “It’s close to his office.”
“In a penthouse that overlooks Sydney Harbour,” Abigail mocks under her breath, and she’s already grating on my last nerve.
Green is not a good colour on her.
Delilah ignores her as she gently scoops up the baby and nestles him in her arms. And I loathe that these people think it’s okay to treat her so abysmally. Seeing her holding that child in her arms, though, looking down at him so lovingly, has something inside my chest cracking wide open.
She loves so freely … so openly. These people don’t deserve her.
Delilah never went to the hospital when the baby was born. She wanted to, but wasn’t sure if she’d be welcome and didn’t want to upset anyone with her presence. She sent some flowers and a gift for her nephew; she is thoughtful and caring like that.
“I have all your rooms ready,” Delilah says to her family. “I bought a brand-new cot and change table to put in your room, Abigail.”
Abigail’s face rears back like she’s been slapped. I kind of wish she had been. “You did?”
“I wanted my nephew to be comfortable.”
“That was very sweet of you, Lilah,” her mother praises.
The green-eyed monster mumbles something incoherent under her breath.
Delilah moves to stand beside me as her eyes flicker from the baby to me. “Isn’t he just the cutest little thing?”
I look down at the tiny infant’s chubby cherub face and smile. “He is,” I agree, which is surprising since he spawned from the womb of the She-Devil herself.
Delilah’s gaze moves back to her family. “Would you like me to show you to your rooms so you can freshen up? Dinner will be served on the back patio in an hour.”
“That would be lovely, Delilah. Thank you,” her mother answers.
Delilah places her lips softly against the baby’s cheek before gently placing him back in the pram. When she moves towards the staircase, I reach for the suitcase in her mother’s hand. “I’ll take that for you, Mrs St. James.”
“That’s very kind of you. Thank you, Spencer.”
When I hear her husband grunt behind me, I have to bite my tongue. Just the thought of sharing a meal with these people is enough to give me indigestion.
Delilah is rushing around in the kitchen like a chook with her head cut off, doing a hundred things at once. “You should’ve let me get tonight catered for,” I tell her.
She looks up from whatever she’s stirring in the pot and blows a wayward strand of hair out of her face. “I wanted to cook for everyone.”
“I know you did, sweetheart,” I say, coming up behind her and wrapping my arms around her tiny waist as I rest my chin on her shoulder. “It’s the night before your big day. You should be relaxing or getting pampered.”
“I’ll let you rub my feet later.”
“Gladly. What can I do to help?”
She hands me the spoon she’s holding. “Can you continue stirring the gravy while I grab the chicken out of the oven?”
“I can do that.”
“Make sure the spoon touches the bottom of the pan while you’re stirring so it doesn’t get all lumpy down the bottom.”
“I think I can manage this, Delilah.”
“Says the man who ruined my bechamel sauce last time he tried to help.”
I bark out a laugh. “I was an amateur back then … I’m a pro now.”
Her eyebrows spring up near her hairline, but she doesn’t call me out on my bullshit.
Tonight is important to her, I can tell. She wants to impress her family, but I’d be surprised if any of them even appreciate the effort she’s gone to.
“Something smells nice,” her mother says, entering the kitchen.
“I’m trying to recreate your roast chicken. I know it’s one of Dad’s favourites.”
“Oh, let’s see,” she replies, stepping up to the oven to peer inside. “That looks wonderful, Lilah.” And now I feel like an arsehole for always thinking the worst of these people. She eyes me by the stovetop. “It’s nice to see you helping in the kitchen. My husband could take a leaf out of your book.”
“Hmm,” I hum under my breath.
“Where is Dad?” Delilah asks.
“He and Abby have taken the baby for a walk outside.” I glance in her direction and notice the smile on her face doesn’t quite reach her eyes. It hurts her to know she’ll never have that type of relationship with her father. I get it, I do. I’ve never been close with my dad, but I also never had to witness him bond with another sibling. “You don’t mind if they walk around the property, do you?”
“Of course not,” Delilah replies. “I want you guys to feel comfortable while you’re here.”
Not too comfortable.
The sooner these people leave, the better.
“It’s so beautiful here,” her mother says.
“Isn’t it? We occasionally see platypus swimming in the stream and have kangaroos on the property often.”
