“You know, if I’d had this conversation with Connor, it probably would’ve sounded a lot different,” Declan finally said, prompting Harlow to laugh.
“It probably would’ve involved a lot less talking about your feelings and a lot more pastry. I love him, I really do, but the man’s affinity for baked goods knows no bounds.” Growing serious, she added, “I’m sorry you couldn’t talk things through with him. God knows you two are much closer. I do hope this helped at least a little bit, though?”
“You know what?” Declan smiled, a plan already taking shape in his mind. “It really did.”
From the minute they’d met, literally, Tess had been the one helping him.
It was time to turn the tables, consequences be damned.
14
Tess made it through her shift on a wing and a prayer and a whole shitload of caffeine. Thankfully, the hospital’s chief of staff, Dr. Keith Langston, had decided to use his powers for good (what could Tess say—he might be an amazeballs surgeon, but sometimes the guy was a stickler and a half) and let her go an hour early. It would give her enough time to ensure that Jackson got a proper bath after dinner, at least. Provided that she could actually create something semi-nutritious for said dinner with the shamefully few items in her fridge. And provided that she didn’t die of extreme embarrassment the instant she ran into Declan.
Then again, she’d spilled a highly personal story that showcased her flaws, then begged him to have sex with her when he’d kissed her out of what had very likely been pity. For Chrissake, she’d even used the word please.
Yep. Dying of embarrassment was looking more and more desirable by the second.
Stuffing down the (hot…hot…sooooo hot) memory, Tess focused on what was in front of her. She had a kid to feed, kiss be damned.
“Okay, little man,” she said to Jackson as she took him out of his car seat. “Let’s go see what’s what upstairs in the kitchen, shall we?”
He babbled back in response, all noises and cooing and extreme cuteness, and she let the sound soothe her as she made her way inside the building. Okay, so she might’ve had a seriously vulnerable moment last night with Declan that had involved both yammering about her shortcomings as a parent and an attempt to climb him like a nine-foot ladder. But she’d survived much worse—her mother’s scrutiny, labor pains, and performing endless rectal exams as an intern all came to mind, in that order. An awkward night of dodging her husband/roommate? Piece of fucking cake.
Or it would’ve been, if Declan wasn’t standing in the middle of her spotless condo, wearing—
“Oh, my God. Is that an apron?”
“Hey,” he said, looking down at the swath of black material draped over the front of his jeans and T-shirt. “Yeah. Not normally my thing, but I figured it was the best way not to have to do more laundry while I made dinner.”
As if on cue, Tess registered the utterly delicious smell drifting out of her kitchen, and okay, that was it. This had to be some sort of joke.
“You did laundry…and made dinner.”
“After I went grocery shopping.” At the noise of shock Tess made, he added, “Didn’t have a choice, really. Your cupboards were tragic. Do you eat anything other than Cheerios, or are you on some sort of very strange, quite unnecessary fad diet I don’t know about?”
The unexpected joke made her laugh, scattering the tension she’d been primed to feel walking in the door. “Those are Jackson’s. I usually go grocery shopping on my day off, but…well, yesterday was kind of busy.”
She put the baby down in the middle of the living room—which was vastly tidier than she’d left it, thank you very much—kissing his head and grabbing a handful of toys from his nearby Pack n’ Play to keep him occupied. Declan didn’t move, save to make eye contact with Jackson and give up a little wave, waiting for her to get the baby settled before saying, “I didn’t mean to overstep. It’s just that I haven’t really thanked you.”
“For what?” Tess asked, thoroughly confused.
“Marryin’ me, for starters.”
The suggestion of a smile that accompanied the words did things to Tess she did not want to contemplate. “We’ve already been over this. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“We might not have done it for the same reasons as most, but it still means something to me. So, thank you.”
Her gut panged—Jesus, he was so sincere—and she busied herself by spinning a gaze around the condo. “You’re welcome, but you really didn’t have to clean my whole condo.”
“I didn’t. Clean the whole place, I mean,” Declan clarified. “I stayed out of your room. Privacy, and all. Anyway, we’d already agreed on the laundry.”
Okay, they had, but… “You’ve done more than that.” She peered at the floor more closely. “For God’s sake, even my baseboards are clean!”
“They weren’t that bad to start.”
“That’s not really the point,” Tess said.
“You’re right.” Declan nodded, and was there no limit to the amount of times the man could surprise her in one go? “The point is, you’ve done a lot for me, and I’d like to do the same for you.”
Heat flooded her face. First, the kiss last night, and now this? “You don’t owe me anything. I helped you because I wanted to, but I don’t expect anything in return.”
His soft laugh echoed in the space between them, shifting the warmth on her face to other, more southerly parts. “I can’t imagine you ever doing something you didn’t choose. But I didn’t tidy your place because I felt obligated to, or to repay a debt, or even to earn my keep, really.”
Tess’s brows slid upward. “Why did you do it, then?”
“Don’t friends help one another out from time to time?”
Her heart slapped at her rib cage, but she forced her voice into pure steadiness. “You want us to be friends?”
“I do,” Declan said. “But that’s not just up to me.”
Tess realized, then, that he hadn’t moved since she’d walked through the door, purposely staying on the perimeter of the room, close to the entryway to the kitchen. She’d have thought he was trying to keep his distance—after she’d thrown herself at him so shamelessly last night, who could blame the guy? But in that moment, it struck her that he wasn’t steering clear of her at all.
He was giving her space.
Tess pressed her lips together, but her smile slipped free anyway. “Oh, please, Irish. You had me at the baseboards.”
“Good to know,” he said over a smile of his own. “Friends?”
“Yes. Friends.”
“Grand. That means you and Jackson can come help me with the last-minute dinner prep.” Declan turned toward the kitchen, missing the full force of Tess’s pop of laughter.
“You want Jackson to come help get dinner ready?”
Declan stopped just shy of the kitchen, looking at her over one broad, strong shoulder. “No. I want you ta come help get dinner ready. But Jackson makes for good company, and I know you’ve probably missed him after being at work all day.”
“Oh,” Tess said as her ovaries exploded. “Well, I guess that makes more sense.”
Scooping Jackson up, she bitch-slapped her libido back into place and headed into the kitchen. Jackson settled into his high chair easily enough, and Tess went to the pantry, the irony of the fact that she was in search of the Cheerios not lost on her.
“Wow. You really stocked up,” she said, grabbing the familiar yellow box and offering Jackson a small handful of the cereal as hanger management. Like pretty much all near-toddlers, he could go from zero to meltdown in an impressively short span if she didn’t time things just right.
“I didn’t know what to get the lad, so I sort of improvised,” Declan said. “Think I startled the poor woman in the baby food aisle when I asked for her advice, though.”
Tess bit her tongue so she wouldn’t snort. Ridiculously hot guy asking for help in the baby food aisle? The woman probably hadn’t been as startled as sh
e’d been overheated. “That’s okay. The food you got is great. You’ll have to let me pay you back for my and Jackson’s share, though.”
Declan looked like he wanted to argue, his dark brows gathered and his sinful mouth pressed into a frown. Instead, he said, “Okay. You can take it out of my rent, if that’s easier.”
Touché, Tattoo Boy. He had to know full well that Tess intended to charge him peanuts for rent. Still, she’d agreed to the whole rent/laundry thing, so she had no choice but to grumble out a “fine” as she grabbed two plates from the cupboard by the sink.
“Whatever you’re making smells delicious,” she said, partly to change the subject of rent and partly because it was so true.
Declan gestured to the pan he’d taken from the oven. “Ah, it’s just chicken Parmesan.”
“Just,” Tess scoffed. “I guarantee that if I’d made chicken Parm, it would’ve taken hours. And it probably wouldn’t look or smell nearly as good as this.”
“Hmmm.” Declan gestured to the plates, which Tess handed over before moving to grab silverware. “Let me ask you this. What was the last procedure you did today in the ED, before you left for home?”
Okay, not what she was expecting, but… “I did a thoracostomy to treat a pleural effusion.”
“Is that even English?” he asked, making Tess laugh.
“Sorry. Occupational hazard of hanging out with medical professionals 24/7. I inserted a tube into a patient’s chest to drain some fluid buildup that was making it hard for him to breathe.”
Declan filled both plates, placing them on the table. “You did that, and you think you’d screw up chicken Parmesan?”
Tess stopped halfway to the pantry. “To be fair, I had six years of training before I learned how to place my first chest tube.”
“All the more reason you’d likely be fine with a recipe,” Declan teased. “I can show you how to make this, if you like. It’s honestly not difficult once you get the hang of it.”
“I’m surprised you cook,” she said, her pulse giving up a start as she heard the implication embedded in her words. “Not that you’re able to cook, but it’s just not something most young, single guys have on their skills list. Not at this level, anyway.”
Declan waited for her to take two jars of baby food from the pantry, then return to the table before saying, “I have to be so careful about my diet that I didn’t really have a choice. Doesn’t help that I actually don’t mind being in the kitchen, though.”
“Well, I, for one, am very, very glad you don’t.”
They fell into quiet that surprised Tess by not being awkward, with Declan testing his glucose levels and her starting to feed Jackson, who ate like a ravenous bear. Tess had to insist three times that Declan start to eat without her—she hadn’t married him to get him into that trial only to have him keel over due to manners, after all—and finally, she set Jackson up with some banana slices so she could dig in.
“Oh, my Goddddddd,” she mumbled past the hearty, cheese-and-tomato-covered goodness she was eating far too fast.
Declan laughed. “It’s good, then?”
“It’s magic.”
“I don’t mind bein’ in charge of dinner most nights that I’m here. As long as you don’t,” he added with a shrug.
Tess paused. “You want to cook and keep this place neat?”
“I want to stay busy,” he corrected. “And I’ll probably schedule a handful of relatively local trips to go do modeling shoots in between appointments with Gupta. I’ve still got ta earn a living, bum kidney or no.”
“Right, of course.” Tess nodded, trying as hard as she could not to think of him shirtless and brooding for the camera.
“But when I’m here—which will be most of the time, I’d wager—I can manage dinner.”
That same emotion that had flashed through Declan’s stare last night when she’d thanked him for watching Jackson made a repeat performance, only this time, it lingered just long enough for Tess to name it.
Need. Whether it stemmed from not wanting to be the recipient of all of the overdone sympathy that usually accompanied a chronic disease, or the fact that he was just as iron-willed as she was, Tess couldn’t be sure. But Declan was looking for a purpose, however small.
And she could give it to him.
She didn’t even hesitate.
“Dinners sound great to me,” Tess said, tacking on, “as long as you’ll genuinely tell me if there’s a night when you don’t feel up to it. Oh, and you’ll make good on that promise to teach me how to make this on my own, because when I said magic? I so wasn’t exaggerating.”
A smile kicked at the edge of his lips. “You drive a hard bargain.”
“You shouldn’t be shocked that I do,” Tess flipped back, along with a grin that felt far better than it should. “But if you want to go all Gordon Ramsay in my kitchen every night, far be it for me to stand in your way. After all, what are friends for?”
15
“Okay, Irish. I’m just going to say it. That was more fun than should be allowed in a grocery store.”
Tess’s smile hit Declan head-on, but he did his best to keep his poker face firmly in place as he swung the last reusable bag full of food to the kitchen counter. “Hmmm. This from a woman who called the place—what was it? Ah, right. Satan’s handiwork.”
“To be fair, you’ve never had to navigate a grocery store on a Saturday afternoon with a screaming baby,” she pointed out, and hell, she had him there.
“True. But the lad was just fine today.” Declan paused to send a glance through the open-concept kitchen and into the living room, where Jackson sat in his playpen, watching some cartoon with colorful baby guppies singing about lunchtime.
Tess followed his gaze, her smile growing soft. “It didn’t hurt that you did most of the grocery shopping while I gave him my undivided attention and pushed the cart.”
“It makes sense for me to do most of the shopping since I’m the one cooking,” Declan said, forcing his attention back to the groceries. Carrots, cereal, anything other than the way Tess had been driving him slowly and fantastically mad over the past week since they’d agreed to be friends. “Plus, it kept him happy.”
“Fair enough,” Tess agreed. They slid into the comfortable routine they’d cultivated over the past week, with Declan getting the ingredients together for dinner and Tess going over his medication schedule and his blood sugar graphs. Their topics of conversation had ranged anywhere from the relatively ordinary (her favorite TV show turned out to be old-school Law & Order, her favorite color green, her hard-no food hot dogs, thanks to a bout of food poisoning in medical school) to the Would You Rather variety (they’d actually had a good-natured yet quite heated hour-long discussion on whether or not the ability to fly—her pick—was better than being able to breathe underwater—totally his vote). They’d swerved around anything really personal, namely his kidney disease, her ex, or anything even remotely associated with the fact that they’d shared a thermonuclear kiss only seven tiny days ago. But, in truth, their conversations had been the highlight of his days this week, making Declan feel at ease in a way he’d have sworn he never would again.
Even if he did want to kiss her again. This time, without stopping at her mouth.
“Declan?” Tess’s voice hooked him back to the reality of the kitchen, his pulse quickening as he realized she’d asked him a question he clearly hadn’t heard.
“Sorry. Must’ve gotten a bit lost up top for a second,” he said, tapping his temple with one finger.
She nodded. “I was just saying I’m kind of in the mood for Thai food, if you want to take a night off in here. There’s a great place nearby that delivers. Jonah and Nat turned me on to it last year.”
“Sure,” Declan said, brushing aside the memory of that kiss for good. He had to live here for the next two months, and that meant letting Tess take the lead if she wanted to go from friends to friends with benefits.
True to her recommendation, t
he Thai food really was great. They ate together as a trio, with Tess taking over bath and bedtime duty for Jackson after they’d stuffed themselves silly, as Declan took charge of the kitchen. Oddly, he didn’t mind the chore—it was nice to have a purpose other than all the taking it easy he was supposed to be doing. Washing dishes, drying them and stacking them back in the cupboards where they’d wait for the next meal he and Tess and Jackson shared…all of it made him feel almost normal.
Almost like he belonged.
“Hey,” Tess said, and Jesus, was he crazy? He didn’t belong anywhere, least of all here, with Tess and Jackson. This couldn’t be that. It couldn’t. “I know I said ice cream was my go-to for unwinding, but I was thinking I’d go with a glass of wine tonight instead. Interested?”
Declan paused. He’d cut out most alcohol when he’d gotten his diagnosis; it just seemed easier to clean his dietary slate rather than tease himself with a tiny taste of what he couldn’t have in full. That said, his doc at the VA had told him one drink here or there wouldn’t hurt him, and Gupta had put the same restrictions on him for the study. Hell, maybe a drink was just what he needed to get his head back to good. “Don’t s’pose you’ve got any whiskey hidden away in a liquor cabinet somewhere?” he asked, and she lifted a caramel-colored brow.
“What sort of woman do you take me for? Of course I do.” Walking over to the tallest cabinet in the kitchen, she stood on her tiptoes to unearth a bottle, mostly full. “I usually keep this for emergencies, but it’s probably smarter than pinot grigio for your sugar levels.”
“Whoa.” Declan whistled, eyeing the bottle in Tess’s hand more closely. Jameson 18 Year Limited Reserve was not for amateurs. The damn thing had probably set her back at least a hundred and fifty dollars. “That is a right nice bottle of whiskey.”
“It was my divorce present from my friends.” She gestured wordlessly to the ice maker on the front of the fridge, to which Declan shook his head. “Celebrating going back to my old name.”
Beyond Just Us (Remington Medical Book 4): A Single Parent Marriage of Convenience Romance Page 12
