by Nadia Lee
Ivy laughs a little, and I sense Declan moving toward us. Time to shock and delight her!
Grinning mischievously, I tilt my head in Declan’s direction. “Guess who’s here?”
Ivy’s eyes follow the direction of my head jerk, then widen. “Oh my God. Is that…?”
“Yup. Declan Winters, in the flesh. Declan, this is my soul sister Ivy.”
Declan smiles. “Nice to meet you. And congratulations.”
Ivy squeals a little, her cheeks red. “Thank you.”
“I want to see the babies better!” Kim’s barely restrained as she comes out of the bathroom. “And take pictures! And hold them! I’m clean now!”
Tony laughs. “Fine, fine. Meet Sebastian and Katherine.” His grin is so wide, so full of joy, that my heart flutters.
Evie moves closest to Ivy. “Oh my goodness, they’re gorgeous,” she says softly, her eyes on the twins. “Is it okay if I hold them?”
“Sure,” Ivy says.
Then it’s everyone trying to line up to hold the twins. Since I already held Sebastian, I cuddle with Katherine before anybody else.
She’s tiny—smaller and lighter than her twin brother. I think my hands put together are bigger than she is. I look at her and Sebastian. They barely open their eyes, like they can’t seem to get used to the brightness or all the sound around them. I’m sure it’s nothing like how it was in Ivy’s womb, where it was warm and dark and safe.
Don’t worry. I’m going to keep you safe, too. They’re Ivy’s children, so that makes them mine to take care of, too. I have huge plans to pamper them.
“They’re so cute. Are they supposed to be this small?” Edgar says.
“They’re twins,” Ivy says. “So yes.”
“But they have everything they’re supposed to,” Jo says, getting teary. “Ten little fingers and ten little toes.”
“They’re the most perfect babies ever. Who came out first?” I ask.
“Sebastian,” Tony says.
“He’s handsome, like me,” Ryder says.
“It’s my kid,” Tony says.
“Yeah, but he’s handsome. Like me.”
I laugh when Ryder waggles his eyebrows. It’s so like him, but then he is surreally good looking.
“And I got them something to make them even more handsome, again like me.” He pulls out two gorgeous deep navy and silver boxes. “Ankle bracelets with their names. Made with pure white gold to avoid any metal allergies. Custom designed and crafted in Italy, baby.” He grins at the twins. “When you have an awesome godfather like me, you can get all the nice things in the world.” He makes weird baby noises as he puts the shiny jewelry around their tiny ankles.
I watch enviously because I wish I could give them something nice too. Except my accounts are still frozen. Damn Eugene.
“Who says you’re going to be their godfather?” Tony jokes.
“Who else is deserving of that title, huh?”
Ryder and Tony bicker while I admire the anklets. They’re simply gorgeous. I also love the little diamond accents on each side of their names.
Ivy yawns, her eyelids drooping. Tony rubs her shoulder gently, love shining in his green eyes.
I look at my soul sister and what she has—a doting husband, two amazing babies. Even though the room’s full of people, their love binds them into a special unit. It’s what enables them to fight everything together, endure every hardship together, and share every bit of joy with each other.
It’s exactly what I want to have. A longing pierces my heart until it feels ready to burst with happiness for her and envy for what she has. And the fact that I’m jealous at all makes me feel pathetic and small. I should only feel happiness for her. Ivy fought so, so hard for what she has.
I wish I could stay longer, but Ivy’s clearly exhausted. And Evie and Jo must be tired, too.
We exchange hugs and cast more adoring looks at the twins, then leave the family of four behind.
“Do you need a ride?” Nate asks as we pour out into the hall.
“I can drop her off,” Declan says before I can respond.
Great minds think alike. I was hoping to go with him. “What he said.”
“It’s no problem,” Court says.
“I have some stuff to discuss with her,” Declan adds.
“Okay, then. See you later, Yuna,” Court says.
“See you.”
We say all goodbye to one another. Nate and Edgar whisk Evie and Jo away pretty quickly. Kim and Wyatt leave hurriedly too, since they have a small kid and a sitter waiting at home. Court walks off with Pascal. And Ryder follows them out.
I walk down the hospital corridor slowly, realizing that all I have to go back to is an empty mansion. My knees feel like jelly after all the tension. It’s happened a few times before. Although this lightheadedness is new.
Declan looks at me. “You okay?”
“Yeah. The day couldn’t have ended better.”
“I wasn’t asking about the day. You look tired. And pale.”
“It’s just late.” I look up at him. Staying up has put lines around his gorgeous eyes, too. “Thank you. Really. It was nice of you to stay.”
“My pleasure. You want to grab something to eat?” he asks.
I should probably go home instead of taking up more of his time. But I don’t want to be alone just yet. Not after what I saw in the recovery room. Besides, Declan needs to eat, too. “Sure,” I say.
“What are you in the mood for?”
“Pizza, maybe? Is there anything open this late, though? Or do they deliver when it’s after eleven?”
“Are you kidding? This is L.A. Delivery at my place good?”
“Sure.” It means I won’t have to go home. I’ll be going to Declan’s home and spending more time with him.
Ooh, a young woman and a young man together, alone, late at night, an excited voice that sounds suspiciously like Ivy says in my head.
I’m not going to jump him over a pizza. But it sounds unconvincing even to me, as my mind is already replaying the kiss we had. Since then, though, we haven’t done anything. And I’m not sure if I’m ready to go further than that with Declan.
I’ll split a bottle of wine with him before I make up my mind. As happy as I am for Ivy and Tony, I want some alcohol to soothe the weird emptiness that’s settled over me. Maybe it’s just low blood sugar. Or maybe it’s a feeling of sadness that I’m nowhere near close to having a perfect family like they have. I really don’t want a cold future like my brother has, where the husband sends lawyers to deal with a car accident his wife is involved in, without a single warm word for the wife. The loving marriage my parents have is pretty rare among chaebol. I know that. But still…
I shake myself mentally. I’m not thinking straight. Food should pull me out of this weird funk. So that way, if we repeat the kiss—or take things further—it won’t be because I’m lonely. Declan deserves a woman who wants him, not an emotional bandage.
Declan drives. The streets are relatively empty. I look out the windows, and everything seems to go blurry. The next thing I know, Declan’s pulling into his home in Malibu.
“Yuna, we’re here,” he says gently.
“I know. I’m awake now.” I try to blink the sleep away. I wish I could have coffee. But it’s too late, and I don’t want to stay up all night.
“You must be really tired.”
“I feel bad because you were driving.” I’m supposed to be his assistant, but right now I feel like he’s the one doing the assistant’s job. And being a chauffeur.
“I can operate on little sleep. Besides, I don’t mind a quiet drive.”
“Okay.” My head is still slightly foggy. Once I’m out of the car, I feel better as I breathe in the cool night air coming off the Pacific.
We start to walk toward his home, and the pizza arrives. Declan gives me the keys to unlock his house while he deals with the delivery guy.
I open the door, and he carries the still-hot pizz
a into the kitchen. My stomach growls loudly.
“Hungry?” he says.
“Yeah.” I sigh with appreciation. “Who knew a bunch of carbs and grease could smell like heaven?” My belly makes another noise.
Declan laughs. “Your stomach, apparently.”
I giggle. “Sorry. I can’t make it shut up.”
“Sure you can. Just eat some of what’s in the box.”
I put his keys on the kitchen counter, and he grabs everything we need for our meal. Just as I sit down…another embarrassingly loud growl.
“How come yours is so quiet?” I eye his midsection suspiciously.
He puffs his chest out. “Because I’m a man. The strong, silent type.”
I laugh. “Strong, okay. I’ve seen you work out. Don’t know about silent. Did you eat something behind my back?”
“Nope.” He moves so that he’s directly, conspicuously opposite me and smiles. “I’ve been very careful to eat right in front of you.” He places a huge slice on my plate and passes it over, then gives himself one. “I’m an up-front kind of guy.”
“That’s true.” And it’s nice to be around a man whose motives I don’t have to guess at, like I do at times because of the money I have, the connections and network I can access and my family’s position in society. I take a bite of the pizza. Yum. It tastes amazing. “This is great.”
“You could be having a kale and brussels sprout salad and probably say the same.” He bites into his slice.
“No, my stomach’s never that desperate. It’s the pizza. They put some kind of magical crack on it.”
“It’s called not eating anything for almost half a day. Whets the appetite.” Declan sighs with contentment. “Something to drink?”
“In a minute. I don’t want to distract myself from this.”
He grunts in agreement.
After we polish off our first slices, Declan gives me the option of rosé or iced tea. I choose the wine, and we share half a bottle. The alcohol’s good, just enough to mellow me out some, especially combined with the carb rush I’m getting from the pizza.
“Those babies were really cute,” he says.
“Oh my God, they’re adorable. I’m so happy for her.” I sigh, half with longing and half with happiness myself. But then I decide I’m mostly content. Even if I don’t have what Ivy has right now, it’s enough that things are good for her and the twins are healthy.
“You like kids,” he says.
“Yeah, as long as they’re civilized.”
“Civilized?”
I laugh a little. “Of course. You can’t spoil out-of-control kids because they’re already spoiled rotten, and what they need is discipline. Anyway, I’m the awesomest aunt ever.”
A small smile curves his lips. “How many nephews and nieces do you have?”
“One in Korea and now two here. You just saw them tonight. I love buying gifts for them. It’s the best part of being an aunt. I want their rooms to be stuffed full of things I’ve bought for them.” Mentioning my nephew in Korea makes me wonder if Minho’s doing okay. His mom should’ve been discharged and everything should be back to normal by now. Still, something about Eugene’s tone during that call bugs me. He didn’t have to sound so unsympathetic. Hopefully he faked it better in front of his son and wife.
“What did you send your nephew in Korea?”
“Well, nothing on this trip, since my accounts are still frozen.” I sigh glumly. Damn Eugene. It’s all his fault Minho’s without a gift from his auntie. And how am I going to spoil Sebastian and Katherine? I want to go shopping and get them something as nice as what Ryder bought for them.
Declan looks bemused. “How can your brother have that much power over your finances? Isn’t your money under your control? You have your own bank accounts and stuff, right?”
I make a face. It’s embarrassing to have to admit how naïve I’ve been. “I was stupid enough not to ask for my own separate stuff. My family has a huge trust that we can draw money from. It’s never been a problem before, but I should’ve realized they could block it to force me to do something if they wanted. I just never expected that anything like that would happen.” Traitors.
Declan shrugs. “If you want, I can give you my card and you can put your nephew’s gifts on it. I don’t mind. Honest.”
I stare at him in surprise. I routinely offer to buy things for people, but that’s because I have the money, and I like doing it for people I love. But the idea of taking someone else’s money to spend just feels weird. Other than my family and really close friends, the people I know don’t offer to give me anything. They tend to want things—usually favors that involve hooking them up with business opportunities through my network.
And I’m feeling vaguely flustered that Declan’s trying to give me a credit card for my personal use, when he knows I can’t give him anything in return. My family isn’t involved in Hollywood, and it’s not like he needs money.
“Thanks, but I can’t do that,” I say, running my suddenly damp hands down my dress.
“It’s no big deal. I’d like to do it for you.” He adds, “If it bugs you that much, you can pay me back later.”
“It isn’t that. I’m just not used to accepting money from people in general.”
“You take money from your family.”
“Family isn’t ‘people in general.’”
He is getting a stubborn gleam in his eyes. “I’m not ‘people in general,’ either. Besides, I like spending money on people I care about.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You don’t know my nephews and niece well enough to say that.”
“I wasn’t talking about them.” His voice is soft as he levels his gaze on mine.
My heart does a little dance, and I feel slightly lightheaded. Is he trying to say he cares about me? Maybe I shouldn’t have had the wine this late, because it’s making it hard to think.
“I just want to make sure you’re okay. And if money can do that, well, why not? That’s why I make money in the first place. To splurge on people I like.” He clears his throat and shifts a little.
I don’t respond because my sleep-deprived and sluggish brain is trying to process what he just said. I think what he feels is more than just “caring about me.” I’m pretty certain he’s saying he likes me, although that seems to make him feel slightly awkward from the way he’s clearing his throat now. He’s not used to saying things like this, is he? It’s sweet, and it makes my heart flutter.
And I think I like him, too.
“Thank you, but it’s okay,” I say. “You already did enough.”
“I did?”
“Uh-huh. You spent your entire Friday evening and night and Saturday morning with me. That means a lot.” The words slip out before I can catch myself.
“Anybody would’ve done that,” he says, his eyes soft and gentle.
“I don’t know that many who would’ve.” I glance away, wistful. Then, after a moment of looking out into the darkness, I turn back to him. “Most wouldn’t.”
I know from the way he’s frowning at me that I’m not wearing the right mask right now. My mouth is probably set in a sad line. I force myself to smile.
“Well, they’re idiots, then,” he says tersely.
My smile turns genuine. I’ve been told my needs are too clingy more than once. By Eugene. And other chaebol heiresses I hang out with. Husbands are supposed to have ambitions. And those don’t include coddling high-maintenance wives. Every second of their lives should be allocated to expanding their financial empires. Or building their careers and realizing their ambitions.
Even my parents… Well, Dad loves Mom and makes sure to take time to do things with her, but he also spends more energy on Hae Min than anything else. If I had to put it into numbers, I’d say ninety percent of his energy goes to Hae Min and the rest for Mom and us.
At least Dad wouldn’t be so cold and unfeeling if Mom were to get into an accident. But that’s setting the bar damn low.
&
nbsp; “Maybe you’re right,” I say softly.
Declan nods. “I am right. You shouldn’t let them bring you down. They aren’t worth it, and you deserve better.”
My heart grows full over how firmly and explicitly Declan tells me I deserve what I want.
I move, purely on instinct. There’s a magnetic pull between us that I can’t resist.
My lips brush against his, the touch featherlight. I do it again, our breath mingling, tickling my cheeks. But instead of making me want to giggle, it makes me hot. His mouth is firm but soft. I like the masculine texture of it, the slightly scratchy feel of his jaw against my skin.
Declan goes still for a second, then tilts his head and draws me in, pressing more firmly. His lips part. His tongue invades.
And I know I want to spend the rest of this early Saturday with him.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Declan
When Yuna brushes her lips against mine, I think I’m having another damn dream. The raunchy sex dreams I’ve been having since the first evening she came over to my place.
But it’s not a dream.
She’s too warm, too solid, too sweet. My dreams always focus on my reactions. They’re always hazy on the details of how she feels, how she sounds and smells.
The skin on her arms is smooth and warm under mine. Her lips are softer and more richly delicious than the freshest whipped cream. I lick them a few times, then slip my tongue inside. She reminds me of a fine aged whiskey—intoxicating and addictive. I want more until there’s not a drop left.
She lets out a small sound, then wraps her fingers around the back of my neck. I pull her closer until she’s straddling me. My hands roam over her, tracing the sweet, slim lines of her body underneath the dress.
All my blood seems to pool between my legs. She groans, and lust shoots through every cell in my body. She fuses her mouth harder with mine, and I devour her with my lips and tongue, lost in the heat of our kiss.
Desire pours through my veins, screaming want, want, want. Part of me knows we can go all the way right here, right now, but I don’t want our first time to be on the kitchen counter. Or in the living room.
In my dreams, we did it everywhere but the bedroom. But for our first time, I want it to be there. In bed. So I can lay her down and spend hours watching her face flush with pleasure and twist with orgasm after orgasm.
