He chuckles against my hand, then kisses my palm, pressing it against his face.
“Go on.”
“You want more?”
“Hell yes, I want more.”
“No.” His eyes widen a bit with surprise. I’ve challenged him. He doesn’t smile, but the eyes stay intrigued. “Your turn,” I add.
A long pause. Too long. The room feels so small, so warm as I’m under his scrutiny, my request feeling like a gauntlet thrown on the ground too hard.
And then:
“You make me think about my life beyond the date, the kiss, the sex, the ride home.”
He stands abruptly, eyes filled with more emotion that I can’t interpret. In a flash, I’m in his arms, his mouth on mine, the taste of wine on his lips, his tongue, making my head spin even more. My hands slip around his waist and untuck his shirt, reaching up to feel his bare skin.
Declan pulls back, our mouths an inch from each other. “When I look at you I can see my future roll out in one long laugh, like a red carpet of fun and intelligence and hope. A ripple of joy that stretches into the horizon until it disappears. Not because it ceases to exist, but because it’s infinite.”
My heart presses directly against his, and the two beat in sync. Our foreheads touch and his eyes blur as my vision goes hazy. I close my eyes, his words, oh, those words…
“I know who I am in the world, Shannon. I don’t need you to define me. What I need from you is what I can’t find on my own. And right here”—he lifts my chin, his eyes loving and warm—“right here.” His hand slides between us and settles on my heart. “Is where you redefine me.”
He kisses me gently.
A slow shake of his head makes me blink over and over, signals confusing and overwhelming. My knees tingle and his arms are the only thing pinning me to earth. “I don’t talk like this with the women I date. I’m not even quite sure where these words are coming from.” He smiles like he’s asking me to translate, but my heart is on edge, waiting for me. “My heart, I guess.”
Mine stands up like it’s doing the wave in a giant stadium filled with all the heartbreak I’ve experienced until now. And yes, it feels like it fills a stadium.
“I don’t feel this way with the women I date. But you’re nothing like the typical women in my life, and this is anything but a typical relationship.”
Our kiss deepens and I reach down, cupping his tight ass. Which buzzes suddenly. I jump and move my hand away.
He sighs. “I’ve been ignoring that for the past twenty minutes, but…”
I pull the phone out of his back pocket and give him an extra squeeze. He groans. I shrug. He looks at his phone and groans extra loud.
“Damn it. I have to call Grace.”
“I understand. She’s the ‘Other Woman.’” My turn to use finger quotes. They feel as stupid as they seem.
He cocks one eyebrow and stares me down.
“I’m joking.”
“I know you are, because Grace is old enough to be my grandmother and is married to a rugby player.”
I laugh. “He’d kill you if you made a move.”
“She.”
“She what?”
“Grace’s wife. Seventy-three-year-old female rugby player.”
Leaving me with that interesting tidbit, he turns away and speaks into the phone. I take the opportunity to check my own phone.
Twenty-seven messages. Nine from Steve:
What the hell, Shannon?
He’s such an ass**le.
Are you safe?
I think he’s an emotional abuser.
Your car’s still here.
Should I call the police?
I texted your mother.
Thank him for paying.
Ask him what he thinks about Canford Industries and whether it’s a good stock buy.
Delete. I repeat it nine times. Go ahead, Steve. Call the police. The fact that you texted my mother means…
Yep.
Nine messages from her:
You ditched Steve for Declan? Good girl. Aim higher. Shall I start booking a spring 2015 spot at Farmington?
I don’t even read the other eight. Delete times nine.
Eight from Amanda:
Your mother is texting me. You ditched Steve?
Is Declan being emotionally abusive? Steve’s saying yes.
Steve is on Twitter creating hashtags about you.
Huh? I stop reading and call her, furious.
“What the hell is going on?” I hiss into the phone. Declan’s back is still turned, his shirt tail hanging out over that hot, tight ass I just had in my hands. Now I’m spewing invective at my best friend about my arrogant ex. Something is very wrong with this picture. The candles still burn, the room is still filled with sex and promise, and I’m—venting about Steve?
“Steve’s been calling and texting your mom and me about how Declan appeared and made you leave. How scared and vulnerable you looked. How he thinks you’re being emotionally abused.”
I just had the most mind-blowing sex of my life while straddling Declan in a limo and I have to deal with an ex who is acting like a middle school gossip girl?
“He WHAT?” I ask. A little too loudly, too, because Declan frowns and walks toward me.
“What’s wrong?” Declan asks. I can’t wiggle out of this one.
“Nothing,” I say with a chirp. I’m turning into Amanda. There’s no way I’m telling her what Declan just said to me, his heartfelt confession, because I can’t even wrap my head and heart around the words. He said everything I feel, except with clarity. When I think the same words they just come out like unintelligible babble. “Just a…work problem.”
“Not with an Anterdec property?”
“No, no…just a pest control issue,” I hiss. I motion for him to go back to his call and suddenly, the room feels cold. Broken. Lost.
Or maybe it’s just me.
I hear a decidedly masculine voice on the other end of Declan’s call, the dissonance between my assumption it was Grace and the male voice confusing. “Declan?” the voice says. “Just because you don’t like what I have to say about her doesn’t mean you should ignore me.”
I know that voice. It’s James, his father.
Declan frowns at his screen and shows me his back. Hmmm. “Her”? Does his father not like me? Or are they talking about some other woman? Of course they are. I’m being silly and self-centered. Why would James McCormick 1) not like me? That’s akin to not liking a golden retriever. I’m the epitome of nice and 2) even bother with me. He only noticed me because Declan pointed me out in that business meeting a few weeks ago, and almost bailed on a business trip to swing by my office, and saved my life…