“See what I mean? I better get her home before the bad man comes to get her. I’m sorry to have wasted your time, sir.” He tossed her back over his shoulder and walked away, toward the town square like he had attempted just before her fit.
“Wait, but that’s not me. I mean it looks like me, but, it’s not me, that’s Emily, well I’m Emily, but I’m not really…”
Declan turned to the deputy sheriff and added one final thought to get off his radar, “Thank you for your service, sir. It’s a down right honorable and selfless job you do.”
Since she couldn’t shut up, Lydia continued her tirade, “Oh please…in a town like this? He’s basically a security guard.”
Playing along and taking every opportunity she gave him, Declan slapped her ass and said, “Now don’t go being rude, Emily. I think you need to stick to root beer.”
The sheriff wandered in to the bar when they got to their car, and Declan set her down, opening her door for her. “Get in, now.”
With one arm crossed and the other upright while she inspected her nails, she firmly stated, “No.”
He gritted his teeth, “Lydia, I am not playing around.”
She laughed and tossed her head back, enjoying his torture, “Lydia? Don’t you mean, Emily? What’s your name again? Oh, right…Decker?”
“For Christ sake, Emily, Lydia, whoever the hell you are…get in!”
“You’re not the boss of me, you know!” That even sounded childish to her, if children slurred and swayed in alcohol induced tantrums.
The roaring timbre of his voice quaked through her, getting her attention. “Quit acting like a spoiled brat and get in the fucking car, or I’ll be forced to…I don’t know…put your ass in the trunk, but not until after I give it a good spanking.”
“You’re such a bully,” she said, getting in the final word before climbing into her seat.
“And you’re a pampered princess. There, we’re even!” He walked to the driver side of the car and got in, speeding out of town before they drew any more negative attention to themselves. At that hour, when it was dark, and few people were around, they were sitting ducks. He’d kindly remind her of that when she was sober.
There was a part of her that wanted to hold out for that spanking he promised, but she thought better of it and did what he said, mostly because she was starting to see two of him.
The ride home was long and quiet, even though only lasting five or so minutes.
Angry at Declan for humiliating her as he did, she found herself more embarrassed by her own behavior. She went straight to her room, when they got back to the cottage, and slammed her door for dramatic effect while he grabbed a beer and went to the back deck to cool off and unwind.
The soothing sounds of nature’s night time hosts always calmed him down. It didn’t matter where he was; there wasn’t a place that didn’t have its own unique night life of creatures. Staring off into the clear night’s sky, he was getting ready to go back inside and call it a night when Lydia joined him on the deck, just an hour or so later.
She plopped down on the bench swing next to him, avoiding eye contact. With her hands in her lap, she stared straight ahead, fidgeting as she stared off for a moment before finally looking down at her hands. She looked defeated.
He noticed that she had showered and changed, seemed a bit more sober than she was.
With glassy eyes, she looked at him and asked, “Do you like me?”
Baffled, he tilted his head and gave her a confused look, not sure how to approach that question. Honesty would mean breaking all of his own rules because his truth was one long nights of passion and talks about forever were born of. And he wasn’t a forever kind of guy.
If he answered as a professional to avoid blurred lines, he could hurt her, and she had been hurt plenty. Truth was, he liked her – a lot – more than he should and not just as friends. How the hell was he supposed to say all of that without crossing boundaries?
“I mean in general. I know tonight, I was…I was an ass. I’m sorry.”
She was staring off again after a long pause. For the first time, he noticed just how insecure she was and how incredibly vulnerable that made her. Her red rimmed glassy eyes threatened to spill over – she had been crying.
He went with safe; find out what she really wanted to know so he didn’t reveal too much. “Where is all of this coming from?”
“My life – up to this point – it hasn’t meant anything. I died, and my husband, our friends, and all of the other people who should have been at my funeral weren’t. My own parents barely made it – it was just for show.” Her confession was pained and all true. The tears finally fell over.
“It’s a weird situation, Lydee. You can’t measure your worth or your legacy by people who care about money, power, and their own image above all else,” he started. “They may be at the top of the Forbes list, but they live like bottom feeders.”
“Weird or not – I didn’t mean anything to many people. The nanny cared more than my own husband,” she said. “What have I done with my life, Dec? Look at me – I have no direction, no purpose.”
Shaking his head, he was almost angry that she said such things about herself. It couldn’t be further from the truth. “You couldn’t be more wrong, Lyd. You brought a little boy into the world – you’re a great mom – that’s part of your purpose right there. Getting through this so you can figure out who you want to be – that’s purpose. Putting away a bad man and saving lives by doing so – that’s purpose, and it’s selfless.”
There was comfort in his words and truth that made her shake with emotion because there was more. “My marriage was over a long time ago. Honestly, I don’t know what I was hanging on to. Why I was trying so hard – what I was hoping for. I married a man who didn’t want to be married.”
This was getting to a topic that made Declan uncomfortable and shift in his seat. Being glad that she was realizing this left him feeling guilty, but it also made him feel less guilty for pining for a married woman. “You’re loyal, honest, and wanted to do right by the man you thought was good and worthy of you. He wasn’t, Lydia, not by a long shot.”
“I don’t think so. I don’t miss Esteban. Not at all. I miss my sister, and missing my son is a pain I can’t describe. It feels like I really did lose them. But him? Nothing. What does that mean? What kind of person feels like that?”
After wiping her tears, she stood to head inside for the night, but before she did, she turned and said with a weak smile, “Thank you for helping me tonight.”
Before the door closed behind her, he called out, “Lydia.”
Stopping just inside the back door, she just stood there for a moment before looking over her shoulder at him. “Yeah?”
With his back still to her, he said, “I do like you.”
With a relieved smile, she continued inside, closing the door behind her.
Under his breathe, when he was sure she couldn’t hear, he whispered, “more than I should.”
Lydia woke the next morning to find a bottled water and aspirin sitting on her bedside table. There was a note, from Declan, propped against the bottled water.
Good morning,
I went for a run, be back in a bit. Thought you could use the rest today. Take the aspirin, you’ll thank me later. Don’t go anywhere without me – especially shitty bars.
-Dec
p.s. I left something for you on the back deck.
His attempt at humor left her giggling – it was obviously going to be a long time before she lived that one down. There were no words to express how grateful she was for the water and aspirin. It would be a long time before she could even look at tequila again.
Excited to see what Declan could possibly have left on the back deck, she rushed through the house to find it. It was still early. The town was likely just waking up, so what on earth could he have picked up and left outside of all places. Disappointment struck her when she stepped outside and he wasn’t there wait
ing.
It was quickly replaced, however, with an overwhelming sense of joy. This man never ceased to amaze her. Sitting in front of her favorite spot was an art easel and blank canvas. To the right sat a small table that held a variety of supplies, all that she would happily use.
A pink bakery box sat just at the corner with a note written on top. These are real food too, kind of like a smoothie. They won’t hydrate you, and they’ll give you pimples, but it’s worth it. I think they are vegan. Okay, they’re not, but we both know that doesn’t matter (remember the bar burger?) – Dec.
Nope, she definitely wasn’t going to live down her weak moment of absolute chaos anytime soon. Grabbing the biggest donut in the box, she sat at her easel and began to create. It felt good to do what she had once loved. It felt good to know there was someone who paid enough attention to know that this was exactly what she needed, when she needed it.
Her heart swelled at the thoughtful gesture. Thinking back, she realized he had to have gone out and got it the day before, prior to her bar debacle. That meant he saw her hurting and wanted to help fix it somehow. For a man of few words, who got hives from emotions, he certainly knew how to mend a broken heart.
She loved to paint but hadn’t in so long. She decided, in that moment, that she wouldn’t stop again. This was the first day of becoming the real Lydia Prescott and all that she was meant to be. She hoped Dec stuck around to help her discover exactly who that was.
Her smile wouldn’t budge, and she couldn’t find a single reason to stop when Declan walked up the back steps of the deck, the intensity of his workout obvious. His sleeveless t-shirt put his enormous biceps on display as the soaked shirt clung to his chest and abdomen, highlighting every chiseled rise and fall of a well-defined body. His sweatpants hung low on his hips and hugged his thighs, leaving her to clench her own together. Especially when her curiosity got the best of her, and she looked at how nicely they hugged his, ummm, groin.
“You like it?” he asked, causing her to choke. “Oh, my God! Are you alright?”
When he reached for her to offer a pat on the back, or something of that nature, but she stopped him where he stood by holding her hand out in front of her. If he laid a hand on her, she would be done for. “I’m good…I’m good. Um, do I like…”
“The easel and canvases. Did I get the right kind of paint?” he asked, completely unaware that she had just been molesting him with her eyes.
“Oh! The paints! Yeah…it’s all so amazing and thoughtful. I love it. I can’t believe you remembered.” Relief washed over her at the realization he was completely unaware, and she was going to keep it that way.
“Your drawings – they reminded me of your art studio. I thought this would give you something to do,” he added.
“Yeah, it’s great. I wanted someone to do – something – you know – something to do.” A palm to the face would have helped hide the embarrassment flooding her cheeks, but it would also draw attention to her current state of mind numbing obsession…a hard, and sweaty Declan.
He was headed inside to shower when he said, “Hey, do you want to get out today? There’s some sort of festival going on, and I heard they even had a beer garden as part of it.”
Her mouth salivated in an undesirable way at the sound of beer. It made her cringe. “I think I’ll pass on the beer, but getting out sounds great.”
“Alright, I won’t be long, we can grab lunch while we’re there.” He said.
“Sounds great. I’ll just finish this part and clean up.”
“Oh, and Lyd?”
She turned and smiled. “Yeah?”
“I saw you looking…” he winked and disappeared inside.
“I…it’s not what you think…Declan…” Sitting all alone now, she really did drop her face to her palm and let out a long drawn noisy sigh.
Spending the afternoon at the town’s Scandinavian themed festival wasn’t all that different from the town’s Farmers Market. The people were dressed in themed clothing, and there were more food booths that were also Scandinavian influenced, except for the one Asian noodle booth. There was always a noodle booth, no matter what type of festival it was or what town you were in – there were noodles.
It was just as lively, and charming, full of must haves and must tries. They taste tested several vendors’ offerings, sharing a plate at each so they would have room for more. It seemed Lydia was exercising selective veganism because she didn’t hesitate to eat whatever was offered, and he was one hundred percent okay with that.
They laughed and enjoyed each other’s company as they explored each booth, gathering only small trinkets and of course more fresh flowers. The flowers were becoming a staple around the house. They enjoyed a variety of pastries along with strawberry lemonade that was available at every stand.
It was a good day, and they were enjoying each other. It was a nice change in pace and would make whatever time they had left together that much easier. He still didn’t talk much, but he smiled more, and that was enough for her.
A small boy, not more than four or five, was sobbing on a street corner. Passersby stepped around him, hardly giving him a notice, but Dec did. He approached the little boy as Lydia watched from across the way – paying for her flowers. He crouched down to eye level and spoke to the boy. She was just out of earshot with all of the noise from the crowd.
Where most people only saw a spoiled child whose parents were probably nearby, Dec saw a little boy in trouble. Her heart warmed when the little guy jumped into Declan’s arms, and he carried him through the crowd with one arm while signaling Lydia with the other, indicating he needed a moment. With a smile and nod, she responded, admiring his gesture.
Forging through the crowd, he nodded and pointed, obviously talking the boy through their search and trying to figure out where he last saw his parents. Not a full city block later, they came across a frantic mother with a distraught father standing in the middle of the street with none other than the deputy sheriff from the night before.
The little boy’s face lit up, and he clapped his hands as he pointed to the crying woman, who had to be his mother. Both joy and relief had crossed over the parents’ matching expressions. Grabbing her little boy and holding him tight, all the woman could say over and over was thank you. She passed the boy to his father and pulled Declan into a rigid, tearful embrace that Declan eventually relaxed into.
After a high five from the boy and handshake from the father, Declan found his way back to Lydia. “Well, that was somethin’.”
“It was wonderful, you did such a good thing when no one else seemed to notice,” she said proudly.
“I guess he was feeding some wayward ducks behind his parents while they paid for something. Before he knew it, or they did, he had followed the birds just a few booths down, losing sight of his folks.”
“Aww. That must’ve been terrifying for him and his parents. You were so good with him, though. Where did you learn how to speak kid?” she laughed.
“I have a niece.” He shouldn’t have said that; the less she knew, the better, but today he just felt like boundaries were less important. They were building something – trust – and they needed that if they were going to get through their circumstance together.
“A niece?” she laughed, “You, with a little girl? How does that work?”
“It’s great. She’s the only kid in the family, so she’s spoiled rotten. Reagan is her name, but we call her ragin’ Reagan. She’s a redhead.”
“Ah ha. A bit sassy?”
“A lot sassy. But she’s a good kid, smart, cute as hell. She doesn’t take any crap either. My parents are from Ireland, so those roots run deep, and she has the fire,” he laughed.
Walking alongside him, she looked up, taking in every word and enjoying a glimpse into this side of him. “That’s very sweet. She’s lucky to have a doting family like that.”
“She hasn’t always been lucky. Her mom died a few years back. It destroyed my brother. We all
try to…chip in where we can. She makes it easy.” So much for boundaries. Declan wanted to tell her more, but he feared that he’d already told her too much. It was time to reign it in and get back to business.
Their fun filled afternoon stretched into a delightful evening of getting to know each other, though Declan let her do most of the talking. He wasn’t much for words, but he was a great listener and didn’t miss a single detail.
It all came to a screeching halt when Declan grabbed Lydia’s arm, abruptly stopping them where they stood in the crowd of people. His body stiffened, chest puffed out, and his expression went cold and steely. Lydia hadn’t seen this side of him for days – something was wrong and she felt the cool shiver to her core.
Following his stare, she was unable to detect what had him on high alert. Perhaps the men from the previous night’s bar brawl? Turning quickly on his heels, he pulled her behind him as they disappeared into a nearby alley and began to run at a pace she could barely manage.
“Dec,” she huffed, trying to catch her breath and keep up, “what’s wrong?”
Turning briefly, he saw the fear she was wearing and didn’t want to paralyze her with the truth, “We need to go – just hurry – we need to get to the car.”
Zig zagging from alley to alley, they bounced around from block to block until they finally reached the vehicle. They had made a wide circle on the outside of the town square, landing in the complete opposite direction from where they had stood only a moment before.
A piercing silence hovered over the thick tension that was left in the air. Declan’s jaw was clenched tight; a small muscle pulsed, matching the flex in his muscles. He was fuming, and Lydia didn’t know why.
Pulling in front of the house, Declan came to an abrupt stop, and charged out of the car, barreling straight up the front walkway and into the house. Their quick ride home had felt like an eternity due to the dead air between them. It was nearly painful, going from happy-go-lucky to an eerie distance that reeked of danger or mischief.
His demeanor had become icy and frightening as she followed him inside. He had reverted back to the emotionless body guard she originally knew him to be. Suddenly, she felt alone and afraid.
Brother's Keeper I: Declan Page 9
