Read Dating Delaney for Free Online

Jake” but my gut says stay.
    “Well?” she pushes.
    “I can stay if it’s really okay with you.” Gut wins.
    “It’s fine. I just need to finish the cornbread.” She
smiles.
     
    I follow her into the kitchen and sit at the island as I
watch her move effortlessly around getting the cornbread mixed and into the
oven. She’s at ease in her kitchen. There’s a small radio playing the oldies
station softly and for a moment I get lost in the sway of her hips as she moves
around. She’s stunning.
     
    “Claire, why don't you set the table,” she calls out to the
living room. Claire comes bounding in complaining about having to do everything
herself.
    “Just take these and set the table,” Delaney says sternly.
Another silent exchange passes between them through eye contact only. “Fine,”
Claire pouts and stomps off with our bowls and silverware.
    “Sorry about that,” Delaney apologizes.
    “Why?”
    “Because she shouldn't behave that way in front of guests,”
she says.
    “It’s okay. She’s cute,” I say.
    “Ha! She is…some days,” she says and winks at me. She winked
at me. Maybe she doesn’t hate me after all.
     
    We sit down to dinner ten minutes later. As we start eating,
Delaney asks Claire how her weekend was and what she did and then moves on to
me, asking how my day was. It felt strangely intimate sitting at the table with
the two of them talking about our days over dinner. And dinner, wow. The chili
was amazing. I actually groaned when I swallowed my first bite. I don't often
cook for myself anymore and frozen food isn't the same as a home-cooked meal,
but I didn't share this with Delaney. I don’t need to hang all my dirty
single-life laundry out there.
     
    “That was great.” I pat my belly when I finish the last
bite.
    “Told you!” Claire says as she collects our bowls from the
table and carries them to the kitchen.
    “Wow, she clears the table?” I ask in astonishment.
    “Yeah, she’s a good kid,” she beams.
    “I’d say so. How old is she?” I question.
    “Seven.”
    “Must have been tough,” I say, thinking about how hard it
would be to raise a kid alone and be so young.
    “What?” she prompts.
    “Having her so young,” I state. She stares at me then
wrinkles her nose. Adorable.
    “I wasn't that young. Twenty-six isn't old but it’s
not young either for babies,” she explains.
    “Wait, how old are you?” I ask, stunned. I thought she was
thirty, tops. She laughs at me.
    “Twenty plus,” she jokes.
    “Twenty plus what?” I ask.
    “Wouldn't you like to know?” she laughs and waggles her
brows at me, making me smirk.
    “Clever, Delaney, very clever,” I chuckle.
    “Please stop calling me that. It’s just Laney. Only my
parents use Delaney.”
    “Okay. So? Are you going to tell me?” I ask.
    “And risk you thinking I’m not some spring chicken?! No way!
How old are you?” she tries to distract me.
    “Thirty-six,” I say. Her eyes go wide and her mouth opens
then snaps closed.
    “What?” I ask, curious now at what she’s thinking.
    “I just…I don’t know, that sounds old, but you don't look
old,” she blurts. My lips twitch and I feel my laughter bubbling to the
surface. I try and stifle it but it comes out loud.
    “So then, you aren't thirty-six, I take it,” I tease.
    “No, I’m younger than you...but not by much, really,” she
gives in.
    “You really aren't going to tell me, are you?” I ask in mock
astonishment.
    There’s a mischievous glint in her eyes. “No, I don't think
I will. Although it shouldn't be hard to calculate, knowing Claire’s age,” she
chuckles.
     
    Jesus, Jake, you really are an idiot. Of course she told you
how old she was when she had her…and how old Claire is now. My idiocy must have
shown on my face because Laney burst out laughing. Quickly I do the math in my
head.
    “Thirty-three!” I say triumphantly.
    She shrugs her shoulders, winks, and says, “I’ll never
tell.”

 
    Delaney
    I