Erasing the hurt in her eyes with the truth was even more vital. Screw the rest.
“Listen to me,” Declan said, capturing her wide-eyed stare with his and holding fast. “You could not be a better mother to your son, Tess. I happen to be an authority on the subject.”
“You do.” Her brows arched up, her mettle flashing just enough to kick at his pulse, and he nodded.
“You see, I was raised by an excellent single mother, so I know one when I see one. And I see one right in front of me. Your boy is loved, and he knows it. That’s all that matters.”
Tess’s mettle turned into a soft smile that did things to Declan’s heart and cock simultaneously. “Thank you.”
He realized, then, how close they stood, with less than a foot separating his chest from hers. He should step back, give her space—fuck, he hadn’t meant to crowd her.
But then she leaned in toward him, as if she wanted him close, and stepping back was the last thing he had the power to do.
“What of you, then?” he asked, and Christ, even the way her forehead creased in confusion was pretty.
“What of me, what?”
“You care for Jackson. You care for your patients. Who cares for you?”
“Oh.” Her reply was more exhale than word, combining to form some sound Declan had no name for. “Well, I guess I care for me, too.”
This time, he leaned toward her, cutting the space between them so close, he felt the catch of her breath as much as he heard it.
“Not tonight.”
He slanted his mouth over hers slowly, partly to savor the moment, but also to give her room to pull away if she chose to.
She didn’t. Instead, she pressed against him until their bodies were flush, her lips parting as she kissed him back, and that was when Declan realized how much trouble he was in.
Tess might taste hungry, but he was fucking starving for her.
Cupping her chin between his thumb and fingers, he held her close, stroking his way into her mouth with a sweep of his tongue. She met him evenly—ah, of course she did—her tongue darting out for a taste, then another, her chest pressed firmly against his. Declan gave her everything she wanted to take, then returned the attention she’d paid him twofold, kissing her so hard and so deep he was sure he’d never have enough. Her fingers found purchase on his shoulder, the blunt edges of her fingertips digging in with just enough pressure to make his cock throb, and he broke from her mouth with a groan. Tess blinked up at him, her face flushed with pleasure and her gaze glinting with want of more, and fuck, he wanted nothing more than to give it until she screamed.
“Tess,” he grated, lowering his hands to her hips, gripping hard. “D’you have any idea how crazy you’re making me?”
She responded with an impatient moan that said yes, she most certainly did. “Less talking, Irish.”
Happy to oblige, Declan slid his hands from her hips to her ass, using his height and weight advantage to lift her off her bar stool. “Better?”
Tess wrapped her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist, the contact driving him mad in the best possible way. “Good start.”
Swinging her around, he moved to the closest flat surface, which turned out to be the slim stretch of space between the alcove where they’d been sitting and the kitchen, proper. Declan angled her shoulders against the wall, then lowered her with care, kissing a path down the column of her neck as he went. Her pulse beat wildly under his tongue, fluttering faster still when her hands slid beneath his shirt to lift the cotton up and over his head.
“Holy shit,” she murmured, her gaze traveling the length of his bare torso. Her fingers followed, and Declan allowed himself one single, selfish moment of her touch before the need to touch her more took over.
“My turn.” He hooked his fingers in the hem of her T-shirt and pulled it off with a single swift tug. Tess’s smooth, unmarked skin was a stark contrast to all of his ink, her curves so pretty against the hard, unyielding lines of his own body that he wanted to memorize every one with his hands and lips and tongue.
He trailed one finger along the edge of her plain, cream-colored bra, his cock jerking to full attention behind his fly at the outline of her nipple straining against the fabric.
“So pretty. Christ, I can’t wait to taste you.”
Tess arched into his touch, the noise in the back of her throat desperate. “Please.”
Taking his time had merit, Declan knew. But no force in the universe was going to keep him from fulfilling the need riding out on her voice. Dropping his mouth to her neck, he wound a hand between her shoulder blades, searching for the clasp on her bra with the full intent of stripping her naked and making her come right there in her kitchen. But then a sound—what was that sound?—broke through the haze of lust clouding his vision.
Someone was crying.
Tess stilled, but only for a split second before whispering, “Jackson,” at the same time Declan realized the cries were coming from down the hall. She’d ducked from beneath his embrace with frightening speed, her shirt back in place and her expression unreadable before he’d even fully registered that she’d moved.
“Declan, I’m sorry, I—”
“No apologizing,” he said, reaching for her forearm. “I’ll wait.”
Tess shook her head, her already disheveled hair fluttering around her face. “No, don’t. I, ah. I don’t know how long I’ll be, and anyway, this was probably…” She paused to motion between them, then exhale. “A bad idea. You should get some sleep.”
Oh, hell no. Impulsive, maybe, but a bad idea? “Tess, wait.”
“I can’t,” she said, her gaze darting down the hallway, then back to his. “Look, this is on me. I shouldn’t have gotten so personal. I crossed the line, and I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
For one dark, impulsive second, Declan opened his mouth, primed to argue. He wanted to tell her those kisses had been the polar opposite of a bad idea, that tonight had been the first time in fucking years that he’d felt truly, purely good. As if, when she’d put her arms around him and leaned in to his touch, just for that moment, he was exactly where he belonged.
The realization slammed into him full-force, pinning the words into place, unspoken.
No matter how good he’d felt, no matter how much he wanted her, whatever happened with Tess could not be about hope.
There’d be no coming back from it.
And so Declan did the only thing he could.
He stepped back and watched her walk away.
It took all of seven hours for Declan to realize he was a screaming idiot. The screaming, of course, was figurative. In fact, he’d been as still as possible when he’d heard Tess wake about an hour ago, her footsteps padding with soft purpose through the condo and her voice low and quiet as she’d spoken to Jackson and gotten him ready for their day. If Dec had been asleep like a normal person who’d been up ’til all hours, he might’ve even missed the way she’d legged it through her morning routine—water shushing through the pipes, the smell of strong coffee—then hustled herself and her son out the door.
A normal person. Ha. What a joke. He hadn’t slept peacefully through the night since the Air Force had shown him the door.
And he hadn’t kissed anyone like he’d kissed Tess in…well, ever. Then he’d topped it all off by letting her call it a mistake and walk away, without giving her so much as a word?
Screaming idiot might be undercutting it.
Throwing the covers from his legs, Declan let his feet hit the floor. He put himself through the paces of get-up, get-ready fast enough, moving down the hallway on silent feet even though he knew Tess and Jackson had gone. Beside the coffeepot—which she’d left on with an oversized mug and a banana next to it—she’d placed a key. No note, and a quick check of his cell brought no text, confirming what Declan had already known.
He’d gone and fucked up the one decent thing that’d happened to him since his diagnosis.
“Damn it,” he muttered beneath his breath, tapping the app to test his blood sugar with the new monitor. He wasn’t jumping through all these hoops with Dr. Gupta just to skimp on his wellness, so he did the song and dance with the testing even though he never failed to hate how helpless it made him feel. Normally, when he got too far into his own head, he’d go to the gym, hitting the weight room or the treadmill until he’d proven to himself that his body hadn’t failed him completely. But the unease he felt today was different, borne not of what he couldn’t do, but what he hadn’t said. What he should’ve said.
He needed to fix this. Now. Before he couldn’t.
Palming his cell phone yet again, Declan pulled up the address to the clinic. He downed the banana along with a cup of coffee (he’d been dumb enough already in the last dozen hours. Leaving the house without caffeinating? Not happening) and grabbed the key, tapping out a request for an Uber on his way downstairs. The trip downtown didn’t take long, thanks to the mid-morning lull in traffic, and he found himself on the sunny street corner in front of the clinic where Connor worked less than a half an hour after he knew he’d even leave Tess’s condo.
“Here goes nothing, I guess,” he muttered, walking through the automatic doors into the clinic’s lobby. The place was modern, with flat-screen TVs mounted on the walls and comfortable furniture placed not only to maximize the space, but also to offer patients enough personal space that they wouldn’t feel like sardines in a tin. A large intake desk stood front-and-center, and as Declan approached, he realized that the woman sitting behind it was talking to Harlow, both of them focused on a laptop screen.
The woman he didn’t recognize saw him first. “Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you come in. How can I help you?”
Harlow beat him to a reply. “Declan! It’s okay, Macie, I’ve got this.” She squeezed the woman’s shoulder, sending a smile in his direction that offset her crisp appearance with its warmth as she rounded the front of the desk to hug him. “It’s so good to see you! Are you feeling okay?”
“Yes,” he reassured, noting the tiny worry lines that had appeared behind the bridge of her glasses. “Everything’s grand, there. I was just, ah. Lookin’ fer Connor. Thought I might be able to have a word with him, if he’s free.”
“Oh. I’m so sorry,” Harlow said, her expression telling Declan she meant it. “He’s in an all-day training across the street at the hospital. He probably won’t be back until this evening.”
Damn it, Declan should’ve called before he’d impulsively left Tess’s condo. What the hell had he been thinking, anyway, coming down here half-cocked and ready to spout off about his freaking feelings?
“You know what, no worries. It was a silly thing, anyway.”
Harlow’s blond brows lifted. “Not that silly if you came down here to talk to him in person.”
Annnnd busted. “I, uh—”
“Tell you what,” she said, not giving him the chance to come up with a proper getaway. “I was just about to take a break to grab some coffee and a scone. Why don’t you keep me company? Talking about silly things completely optional.”
Declan’s gut tightened. “I wouldn’t want to keep you from work.”
“And you wouldn’t be. Macie and the rest of the staff know how to hold down the fort. Plus, I’m already going, and anyway, I’m sure you could use something to keep your blood sugar steady just like I could use some company.”
After a beat, huffed out a laugh. “You’re a total shark, aren’t you?”
“Oh, honey,” Harlow said, sliding her arm through his with an angelic smile. “You have no idea. Shall we?”
“Lead the way.”
They walked for a few blocks, trading companionable small talk. Harlow took most of the lead that Declan gave her in that regard, telling him about the clinic and some of the things she and Connor had been planning for wellness programs. Thankfully, the bakery on the corner had healthy options to go with the decadent-looking scones, doughnuts, and other pastries, and Declan was able to grab a much-needed bagel and fruit to go with Harlow’s scone/coffee combo.
“So,” Harlow said, propping her elbows on the café table between them. “What’s the matter?”
Declan’s pulse stuttered, his defenses kicking in hard. “What makes you think anything’s the matter?”
“Well, not to put too fine a point on it, but you came looking for Connor out of the blue at ten thirty on a weekday. Not that I think he’d mind, but…let’s just say you don’t strike me as the casual brunch type.”
“No,” he agreed, matching her smile with as much of one as he could muster. Harlow’s no-bones-about-it attitude put him oddly at ease. Maybe it couldn’t hurt to ask for her advice. “My health is okay. I mean, it is what it is,” he amended. “I guess I’m just having a hard time figuring Tess out, is all.”
“Ah.” Harlow took a long, contemplative sip of coffee. “Does this have anything to do with you two moving in together?”
Declan nearly choked on his bagel. “You know about that?”
Harlow’s laughter echoed through the mostly empty bakery. “Declan, please. I work with a bunch of doctors and nurses, who also happen to be my best friends. They gossip like middle schoolers. For the record, Connor’s the worst of all of them. So, yeah. I know about that.”
Dec paused. “Well, I s’pose I shouldn’t have expected it not to get around. It’s hardly a secret.”
“But?”
“Guess I should start at the beginning.”
He gave Harlow a no-frills version of how he and Tess had reached their agreement to cohabitate (“that sounds like Tess,” Harlow had laughed), then his offer to look after Jackson (“I can’t say no to watching him, either. That kid is seriously cute.”). But when he got to the rest, he proceeded with more caution.
“What do you know about her ex?” Declan asked, not wanting to unwittingly spill the depth of the personal details Tess had trusted him with last night. She always seemed so tough. Maybe she’d told him what she had about Alec in confidence.
But Harlow’s frown was evidence that she and Tess were close enough for her to at least know the score. “I’ve never met him, although, I can’t say that’s a bad thing. Tess doesn’t talk about him much, and when she does, she’s pretty tenacious, like what led to their divorce doesn’t bother her. But I know enough from Charlie and Connor to peg the guy as a complete jack wagon. I think she has good reasons to be a little jaded.”
“That might be an understatement.”
Dec sent the words through his teeth. Christ, the hurt in Tess’s eyes still made him want to smash something, even now. The fact that she’d obviously done her best to brave-face it with her friends and not show them the worst of things? That made him want to do worse than smash something.
Who cares for you?
Harlow sat back, her gaze calculating in the bright lights of the bakery around them. “Oh, my God.” She grinned. “You like her.”
Whether it was the wild tangle of emotions he’d been juggling over the past few months finally boiling over, or the freaky way Harlow was just so easy to confide in, Declan couldn’t be sure. But the next thing he knew, he heard himself saying, “I…yeah. Maybe? It’s a little complicated.”
“In that…?”
There was no helping the sarcasm that seeped into his reply. “What, you mean aside from the whole marriage of convenience thing?”
Harlow buried her smile in her coffee cup. “Fair enough. Yes, aside from that.”
“I don’t really do like, and I’m not certain Tess does, either.”
“But you both do sex.”
Declan’s heart vaulted against his breastbone. “I didn’t sleep with her.” Not that if he had, he’d kiss and tell, although, he wasn’t about to point out that little gem. He might not be relationship material, but for fuck’s sake, he had some honor.
Harlow remained quiet, giving him the space to figure out how to say the rest. “We, ah. Might’ve had a personal con
versation that ended with us kissing. The lad woke up, though, then Tess got a bit odd. Not as if she had regrets, but…” Declan tried to find the right words to explain the look on her face. “As if she thought maybe I did? I dunno. Anyway, she rushed off, and I let her, and we haven’t spoken since. I’m just not sure how to get right with her again.”
“Okay, so I guess the first thing you should ask yourself is what that really means. Do you want a friendship, or sex? Or do you want—”
“No.” Declan knew cutting her off was rude, but he couldn’t let her go there, even for a second. “I’m not going to have what you and Connor have. Not with Tess. Not with anyone.”
Funny, Harlow didn’t bat so much as a single blond lash. “Alright, so friendship, then. Or friendship with sex?”
“I, uh.” Oh, screw it. They’d passed pleasantries fifteen minutes ago. “I’d like both, but I’m not sure she doesn’t hate my guts right now for the way we left things after we kissed.”
For a minute, Harlow said nothing. Then, just when Declan was sure the silence would drive him fully mad, she gave up a wistful smile.
“So, I’m going to tell you a couple of things about Tess, and you can do with them whatever you will. She is, without a doubt, the fiercest friend I have.”
“I don’t doubt that,” Declan said. It was actually one of the things he liked best about her.
Harlow continued, “But she’s also the most vulnerable, even though she’d rather scratch out her own eyes than admit it. Her ex did a number on her, in ways I probably don’t even fully know. What I do know, though, is that if there’s one thing Tess values, it’s honesty. If you want to clear the air with her, just give it to her straight. Tell her you feel bad about how you left things, and that you want to be friends, then take the rest as it comes, if it comes.”
Ah, hell. Of course, Harlow had to go and make perfect sense. Tess had been no-bullshit, no-kidding ever since Dec had clapped eyes on her, and she was carrying a lot, with a demanding job and a young child. Not that she couldn’t handle it all on her own—she’d proved that she could every day Declan had known her. But maybe being Tess’s friend wasn’t such a bad plan. Especially if it meant helping her out for a change, the way she deserved.
Beyond Just Us (Remington Medical Book 4): A Single Parent Marriage of Convenience Romance Page 11
