Star Struck

"Delilah's Tears"

The first time I ever laid eyes on Delilah, she was on the arm of another man. My brother. At their wedding.

The next time I saw Delilah was a year later, standing over my brother's open grave. Crying. Bereft. Alone.

Both times I had been granted leave to attend John's milestones. One joyous, one devastating.

When your brother is your lifelong best friend, there's nothing you wouldn't do for him. Loyalty isn't a choice, it's a fact. So, what happens when life throws you not one, but a handful of curveballs that have you questioning your ability to remain loyal in the most intimate way?

James Coury's admittedly absurd attraction to his brother's new wife is bad enough. The sudden death of John is nothing short of torture. Thrown together in grief, James vows to be there for Delilah through the devastating loss of her husband. Yet, the act of helping her heal her shattered heart places his in a crushing grip of its own. The battle to subdue his growing love and desire for Delilah sets James' morals and honor to the test—a test he's not so sure he'll pass. 

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Excerpt:

John's wide grin fills the small screen on my laptop. I shake my head. The guy is perpetually in a good mood. Nothing gets him down. Well, very little. Getting suspended in tenth grade for lighting firecrackers in the boy's bathroom, and the subsequent two-week grounding, slapped an unforgettable frown on his always gleeful face.

"James. Oh, hell, James. The one."

I can't hold in a chuckle. "What's the one? Did you finally bust a nut and buy the sweet 'Vette you've been eyeing?" All he could talk about lately was the cherry red vintage Corvette he was dying to plunk down nearly a half-year's salary for.

"Not even. Sweeter than that man. She's so damned much sweeter."

"Okay. I give. What or who are you talking about?"

"Delilah-fucking-Andrews." John's expression has taken on a dreamy appearance.

"Who's Delilah Andrews?"

"The sweetest, sexiest, smartest woman on the planet. That's who."

My freaking brother is in love. I suddenly wish I couldn't see his face and he couldn't see mine. A thin thread of jealousy loops through me. For the first time, I regret being out here in the middle of a God-forsaken desert, housed in a tent in Afghanistan with a dozen smelly, dusty, sweaty guys just like me praying we won't get blown to bits in the next twenty-four hours. All while John trolls bars, libraries or the produce section of the grocery store looking for, and likely finding, hot women. Apparently, one in particular.

"Wait until you meet her James. You'll love her." His eyes grow wide. "Let me introduce you."

"What? No, John. Not now." I panic, quickly glancing down at my appearance. He laughs and waves a photograph of the two of them in front of the screen. They're both wearing shorts, tans, and huge, adoring smiles, the wind blowing her blonde hair behind her like a sheer curtain, the Pacific Ocean rolling away behind them.

Christ, she's gorgeous. I think I'm in love.

"I proposed, James." The picture disappears and my brother's giddy face is once again in my field of vision, eyes twinkling. His words momentarily stun me.

"You what now?" Surely I didn't hear him correctly.

"I asked Delilah to marry me. She's wearing my ring, bro. I'm gonna do it, can you believe it?"

"Are you out of your mind, John? How long have you known her? Hold on. Please don't tell me you got her knocked up." This makes no sense.

"Not knocked up. Yet." The clown is still grinning, love-sick. I stare at him across the miles, speechless. He breaks the silence, his expression sobering and serious. "Look, James. I understand it's a bit of a surprise. Honestly, the minute I laid eyes on her, there was...a connection. We've been dating about six months..."

"Six months? And, I'm only now hearing about it?" I'm angry. It totally goes against our unspoken brother code for him to keep his relationship—his very serious relationship—from me. If I didn't want to hear everything, I'd disconnect the call. He sighs.

"I'm sorry. I was afraid to say anything to you. You haven't been home in eighteen months. You're over there busting your ass and risking your life every damned day. Part of me felt—feels—guilty about moving forward in life and loving every second of it. Then, there was the whole 'what if I'm terribly wrong about this' bouncing around in my head. I had to be sure. I popped the question last night, bro. Call me insecure. Call me an asshole. Call me whatever you want. Until I was certain Delilah would wear my ring, I couldn't bring myself to tell you. If she'd turned me down..." He hangs his head. Damn. My brother was afraid of failing and having to face me with that failure for the first time in ever. He's fucking head over heels in love with this woman. In this moment, I'm the jerk for making him feel bad.

"Christ, John. I'm sorry. You have to admit you'd have been shocked too if the shoe were..."

"...on the other foot. Yeah. I wanted to tell you about her for so long. I wanted my brother here to reassure me I wasn't deluding myself, that this was the real deal. I had to figure it out on my own this time." Sad eyes stare at me through the screen. "Damn, I miss you James."

All those times he had my back over the years, and I'm nowhere near close enough to have his. Fuck. Suddenly, I hate the Army. We don't even have our parents anymore to bounce big shit like this off of. Dad died of a sudden heart attack at work when we were seventeen and sixteen. Ovarian cancer took Mom three years ago. We're all each other has left.

"James?"

"Yeah?"

"Be my best man?"

I'm grinning as wide as John is. "Of course, asshole. I'd be pissed if you asked that loser pal of yours, Ryan."

He holds his hand up to the screen. I place mine over it. The thousands of miles between us melt away.

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"Delilah's Tears" is a NEW addition to my list of books on Wattpad. You can find it for FREE by going to my home page. I'll be adding new chapters regularly. And, as always, thanks for reading and voting!