Feel Me: An O'Brien Family Novel (The O'Brien Family)

by Cecy Robson

  “How’s your evening?” he asks her.

  “Awesome,” she says. “Ma’s already asking when I’m popping out our first kid.”

  He grins, guiding her inside. “Perhaps we should assure her we can’t wait to start.”

  “Don’t tell her that,” she says, laughing. “I swear she thinks my ovaries will turn to stone or some shit.”

  Finn turns around. “Evan wants a ton of kids,” he nudges me. “Wanna bet they give Curran and Tess a run for their money?”

  His good humor dwindles as a pang of hurt fills my chest. Declan and I are never this affectionate in public. He’ll hold my hand, certainly, and open the car door for me. Occasionally, he’ll even kiss my cheek. But he’s never this open and free. Wren and Evan can’t seem to keep their hands off each other. And here, Declan hasn’t even spoken to me since he left the kitchen.

  “You all right?” Finn asks.

  I’m ready to lie and assure him that I am when Declan steps out. His stare locks on me, and how I’m holding Fiona, sleeping against me. “Dinner’s ready,” he says.

  Finn frowns at him, placing his arm around me when I don’t move right away. “Come on, Melissa. The food’s not going to eat itself.”

  Declan steps in front of Finn. “Do you mind?” he asks, fixing on the way his arm rests on my shoulders.

  “What the fuck, Deck?” Finn counters, his arms slipping from my shoulders.

  “Finn?”

  A small voice has us turning in the direction of the walkway. A young woman, edges forward. She’s beautiful, despite that it’s clear she’s been crying. “Is everything okay?”

  Finn jets down the steps, gathering her to him. She falls into his embrace, clutching him. “I’m sorry I’m late,” she stammers.

  He whispers something I don’t quite here. “That’s Sol. His fiancée,” Declan says. “Let’s give them a moment.”

  He’s speaking to me, but looking at them as if his heart is splintering. I step forward, pulling his attention away. “Declan, what’s wrong?” I ask him.

  “Nothing,” he says, averting his gaze.

  “I don’t believe you.” I adjust my hold on Fiona to stroke his arm. “What’s wrong, love?”

  The way he withdraws tells me I couldn’t have picked a worst choice of words. “Let’s just get inside,” he says, refusing to meet my gaze. “It’s like the damn Arctic out here.”

  For a moment I can’t even move, stunned by how upset he seems. But he’s not moving either. He waits for me to step forward, placing his hand on my back so carefully, I almost don’t feel him. I think in touching me, he’s trying to close the distance prying us apart. Yet the moment we’re greeted by the warmth from the foyer, he drops his hand and he pulls further away.

  I pause in the foyer as Curran hurries forward, offering his thanks when he lifts Fiona from my arms. I barely hear him, too distracted by the noise and by the way Declan stands stiffly beside me.

  I don’t know what’s happening, or why he’s keeping me at arm’s length.

  I only know that it’s killing me.

  CHAPTER 18

  Melissa

  Declan stays unusually quiet through most of dinner, barely saying anything to anyone. I wish I can say that the O’Briens don’t notice, but even though they maintain their animated chatter, I don’t miss the looks tossed my way. Even Sol, who seemed so upset when she arrived, tosses a worried glance my way. She nestles against Finn, who seems scared to let her go, whereas Declan I’m sure already has.

  When Killian and Sofia say their goodnights to have dessert with her family, I use it as an excuse to leave, too.

  “Dad’s tired,” I say. “Could you take us home?”

  Declan nods. “Of course.”

  We walk my father into his house in silence and settle him in despite his insistence that he’s fine. My hope is that Declan will tell me what’s troubling him when we’re alone. But that hope is quickly crushed.

  He’s barely speaking to me. “We’re staying at your place?” I ask when he passes the road that leads to my apartment. It’s not a ridiculous question. By now, I’m not even sure he wants me in the same car as him.

  “That’s what we planned,” he says, keeping his focus on the road.

  This is the part where most women would start screaming, and maybe I should. But I’m so hurt right now the best I can do is not cry. My overnight bag and keys are at his place. I don’t want to fight with him. That doesn’t mean I’m spending the night seeing how he’s spent most of this one ignoring me.

  We drive to his place in total quiet. When he parks in front of his apartment building I don’t wait to see if he’ll come to the door and open it for me like he always does. Mostly because I’m certain he won’t.

  He slows his pace when he sees that I don’t wait for him and slip out of the car. I walk past him, standing in front of the double doors leading into the building, my focus burning a hole through the clear glass.

  He doesn’t say anything, and I keep my attention ahead as he hits the security code into his building. I stiffen when he places his arm around my waist and leads me forward. It’s something he does whenever we arrive at his place after dinner out, or when I follow him home after work, those other times he didn’t disregard me.

  This time, the way he holds me is different. I can feel it just as I can no longer excuse it. Not after everything I’ve risked for him.

  Instead of allowing the contact and leaning into him, I step away and ahead.

  “Mel?” he says.

  I hit the button to the elevator. A few tenants he knows hurry in from the cold and rush into the lobby as I idly watch the numbers along the screen count down the floors, sparing me from having to formulate some kind of response. The large group piles into the elevator with us, two of them stepping off on the same floor as us.

  The tension pushes us further apart. The moment he unlocks the door to his apartment and throws it open, I hurry in and into the bedroom, my eyes burning as I gather my toiletries from the bathroom.

  Declan steps into the bedroom still wearing his coat, pausing when he sees what I’m doing. “You’re leaving?” he asks, his deep voice curt.

  I don’t answer. Instead I carry out my small bag and shove it into my travel suitcase, my heels tapping against the wood floor as I storm out.

  Heavy footsteps stomp behind me. I’m almost to the kitchen when Declan grabs the handle, keeping me in place. “What are you doing?” he asks.

  It’s a standoff, me staring at the wall, his stare fixed on me, and neither of us budging from out spots. “Don’t go,” he bites out.

  I whirl around. “Why did you invite me to Thanksgiving?” There are lots of questions I could ask, lots of things I can say, but this is the one I need to know.

  He doesn’t answer, slipping his fingers from the handle of my suitcase just as I release it. It falls with a thump against the wood floor, causing something within it to break, not that I care.

  The weight of what I’m feeling makes it hard to face him. I hate being so weak and vulnerable, but I’m not so weak that I’ll let him get off this easy. “I didn’t have to be there,” I say. “But I did it for you, and for us, and all you did was embarrass me.”

  He lifts his chin. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

  “But you did,” I remind him. “The way you ignored me, it’s as if you were trying to warn your family not to get too close, that you didn’t plan on keeping me around.”

  He doesn’t deny it, and right now, that hurts more than anything he could have said. Tears roll down my cheeks. “If you don’t want me, just tell me. But don’t you dare stay with me because you think my father is dying, or because you feel sorry for me. I deserve better than that.”

  I swipe my suitcase off the floor. There’s more to pack, but I don’t bother. He can keep it around for the next girl he brings to his bed. I hurry away, snagging my keys off the counter.

  Declan tears down the hall. “Mel―Meli
ssa.”

  My heart sinks at the sound of his voice. I don’t stop, tears blurring the view of the front door. He slams it shut with his palm when I try to open it, his chest pressing hard against my back. “I’m sorry,” he says.

  His breaths are ragged with what I can only determine is anger. I ram my eyes shut, trying to hold in the disappointment that’s been fighting its way out all night. He releases the door, his hand sliding down my arm and to my waist.

  He bends to kiss my shoulder. “I’m sorry I hurt you,” he says.

  For a moment I don’t move. I hate to cry. It only shows those who hurt me exactly how deep my wounds go.

  I gather my strength so I don’t break down sobbing. “Why did you?” I ask. He doesn’t answer. I turn around, needing to see his face. “I don’t understand what I did wrong.”

  As much as his tone and words suggested his apology is sincere, his features are severe, angry. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he tells me. “If you want the truth, you’ve done everything right.”

  My brow knits tight. I have no idea what he means. “I wanted to give us a try,” he continues. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you, or wondering what it would be like to kiss you, to touch you. So I did. I just never expected to feel this way.”

  “And what do you feel?” I ask, even though I’m afraid to know.

  “That I might be in love with you.”

  I don’t swoon, go weak in the knees, or fall all over him like I’m supposed to. Not when he whispers these words like they’re a bad thing and not when he stands so rigid against me.

  I simply wait unmoving, wishing he’d make sense so I know whether I need to walk away, or wrap my arms around him like I very much want to.

  “I didn’t expect things to get serious especially this fast,” he admits. “You met my mother tonight, Mel. The last girl she met was on prom night my senior year of high school.”

  “I only met her because you asked me to be there,” I remind him. My gaze searches his face for any sign that can tell me what he’s thinking. “But it’s like you’re punishing me for agreeing to go with you. Did you want me to say no? Is that what you were hoping for?”

  “No. I wanted you with me,” he says.

  His stare is so intense I can barely find my words. “Then why are you making me feel like I’ve forced you into a corner, or somehow manipulated you?” I speak slowly, struggling to understand what he’s doing. “You didn’t have to introduce me to your family, no one needed to know we were together. You did this, Declan. You. I never put any pressure on you, so don’t stand here acting like I did.”

  “That’s not what I’m saying” he says, his voice rising. “But I need you to be honest with me. Did you expect us to be where we are? We’ve been together what? ―Just over two months, and we’ve barely known a night apart.”

  “No,” I confess. “I never expected this.”

  “Neither did I,” he repeats. “I wasn’t ready for any of it.”

  My chest tightens. I’m so emotionally battered, all I want to do is lie down. But I can’t. Not yet.

  “Do you think this was a good time for me to fall in love?” My eyes well when he turns his head away in pain. “It’s not,” I choke, my tears falling. “My dad isn’t getting better, Declan. In another few months, I’m probably going to walk away from a career that I love to take care of him in his final days.”

  “Mel,” he begins.

  I shake my head, cutting him off. “You came and made everything better by being with me, and I’m grateful to you because of it. No matter how scared I was that I was in over my head, I loved every moment of it. Until tonight.”

  I reach for my suitcase. Declan sweeps me into his arms before I can grip the handle and presses me against the wall.

  His kiss is deep, branding me with everything he’s feeling. At first I try to pull away, but his insistence and the way his hands drag along my body reignites the tenderness I experience every time his bare flesh touches mine.

  “Don’t go,” he says between breaths. “Please . . . don’t leave me.”

  My arms link around his neck as he lifts me and carries me to the couch. As our passion surges, I expect him to peel away my clothes and for his hand to disappear between my legs. Instead he sits, keeping me on his lap and holding me close.

  “I don’t believe in love,” he says, breaking away. “And I’ve never wanted to settle down.”

  Despite how I told him I wasn’t asking him for anything, his words sting. I lower my chin. He says he doesn’t want to hurt me, but he’s doing one hell of a job.

  “But with you,” he says, appearing torn. “It’s like I have to.”

  “I don’t understand,” I tell him truthfully.

  He doesn’t seem to either, but tries to explain. “When we arrived and my family came up to you, it’s like right away, you belonged. With the exception of Sofia who she’s known since she was a little girl, Tess who’s an ivy league grad and the mother of her grandchildren, and Sol who brought Finn back from edge, my mother never considered anyone good enough for her sons—and don’t get me started on Wren. Evan’s company makes billions, but it’s what he did for Wren that proved his worth.”

  “She asked you to call her Mama,” he points out. “She immediately knew, what I’ve known all along, that you’re the best thing to ever walk into my life.”

  I wipe my eyes, his words like daggers to my heart. “Sofia sits on Killian’s lap and all I think is, Melissa should be sitting on my lap. You swept in and out of the kitchen making food, smiling and engaging with my family like you’ve been a part of it forever. But when I saw you holding the baby, it’s like I saw the future I wasn’t supposed to have.”

  I can’t move, tears drenching my cheeks, but none that fall are happy tears. Declan isn’t happy sharing what he does. It hurts him to say it.

  “You’re always there to tell me when I’m out of line. You cook for me, you take care of me. You listen to me―when I just need to be heard, or ranting because I’m ready to punch someone’s face in. You came into my life because you were forced to, but stayed when I needed you most. You’re the one, Mel, there’s no doubt in my mind.”

  “But you’re not ready to have me,” I finish for him.

  “No,” he admits, his voice softening. “I’ve never been ready to have you.”

  This all goes back to his cheating father, who betrayed his mother and their children. I should understand, and I do. But knowing and understanding doesn’t make his words easier to take.

  Sitting on his lap the way I am, and hurting this much, I’m not the unbiased counselor I trained to be. I’m the woman who doesn’t want to lose him. Even though I think I already have.

  “I wasn’t supposed to feel this way,” he says, stroking my cheek until I meet his gaze. “And I’m not sure I want to.”

  “Why?” I ask, barely getting the word out.

  “Because I don’t believe in happily ever after. I only believe in the drive that’s taking me to the top, the hard work that’s brought me where I am, and the goals I still need to accomplish. I don’t believe in love,” he repeats, his voice splintering. “But if I did, it would be what I feel for you.”

  He waits for me to speak. When I finally do, it shatters my resolve. “Based on my past, and too many friends and lovers who have hurt me, I didn’t believe in trust. It’s not something that comes easy for me. But I took a chance and I trusted you.” My voice is shaky and I can’t stop trembling. “You didn’t want to love me, but you’re forgetting that I didn’t want to trust you.”

  I slip off his lap. He doesn’t stop me. “My father, the man who does love me is dying. He wasn’t supposed to develop cancer. He was supposed to walk me down the aisle when I found someone who could promise me forever, and I was supposed to give him grandchildren to keep him young when he was old and feeble. My dad is probably not going to walk me anywhere, and he’ll likely never hold his grandchildren here on earth. But at least he was b
rave enough to love, and someone who could value my trust.”

  Darkness shadows his features as I step away. “Mel . . .” he says. “Don’t walk out of my life.”

  My hand quivers as I pass my fingertips along my moist cheeks. “I’m not walking out of your life. We work together, Declan. I’ll still be there come Monday.”

  “That’s not what I mean!” he says charging to his feet.

  I almost say if we’re meant to be, we’ll find our way back to each other, but I don’t. Chances are, being who he is and commanding the room the way he does, he’ll move on to that perfect person I hoped to one day be for him.

  I return to the hall where I dropped my purse and keys. I lift them from the floor, not bothering with my suitcase.

  Declan circles my waist as I straighten, his head coming down to rest against my shoulder. “Don’t do this,” he whispers. “Please.”

  I start to cry all over again. I want to turn around and hold him. I want us to make love all night and wake tucked against him like I have so many times since he first kissed me. But I can’t.

  “Let me go, Declan. Give us both the space we need.”

  The words are hard to say. I don’t want to imagine my life without his arms around me, and that’s what I’m risking by walking away.

  But I can no longer trust him to be the man I needed.

  I march forward when his arms fall away from my waist. My muscles tense despite how unusually light my feet feel. Maybe he’s right, I tell myself as I reach the door. Maybe it’s better not to believe in love.

  Then I wouldn’t be hurting so badly.

  CHAPTER 19

  Declan

  My eyes sweep across the evidence spread across my desk, my stomach shriveling so painfully, I have to look away. Seventeen children all under fourteen years of age, the biggest case of child abuse this office has ever seen, and it’s up to me to figure out the next step.

  Finn. Jesus Christ, all I can think about is my little brother right now. It’s not just the images in front of me that make me want to puke. It’s more that I’m actually seeing what was done to him.