by Melody Grace
He was at the door in three seconds flat. Declan flung it open, and there she was, just approaching down the hallway, wearing a light trench coat belted at her waist and a flirty smile.
And suddenly, he wasn’t tired at all.
* * *
“Hey.”
Paige took a deep breath and tried to look casual. Carefree. It wasn’t easy when she was practically naked under her trench coat. The whole drive down, she’d been struck with panic, imagining getting into a freak car wreck and greeting the ambulance drivers in all her trussed-up, lingerie-wearing glory.
But one look at Declan—even more naked than she was, dripping wet in that towel—and her nerves melted away.
He was magnificent.
“It’s not too late to come by?” she asked, noticing the shadows under his eyes.
He shook his head immediately and tugged her against him. “It’s never too late for this,” he said, lowering his lips to hers.
Paige melted into the kiss, hot and slow and damp, there in his arms. He drew away and playfully tugged at the belt on her coat.
“Are you wearing what I think you’re wearing?” he asked, mischief lighting his blue eyes.
“That depends . . .” Paige gave a flirty smile and walked past him into the apartment. “It’s more what I’m not wearing.”
She paused, looking around. The condo was shockingly neat and clean, with modern furniture looking like something out of a magazine, not a real home. Someone like Declan, she’d expected things to be a little rough around the edges—OK, messy—but this looked like he barely set foot here at all. “Wow,” she said, taken aback. “It’s so . . . clean.”
“Well, thank you. I think.” Declan smiled and followed her to the windows, where there was an incredible view of the dark bay, lights glittering on the curve of the horizon. “It’s just a crash pad, really. I like to keep things simple, less hassle.”
“No strings, no fuss,” Paige said slowly, echoing his comments about how he liked to keep his relationships. Not just them, either, by the looks of things. Declan’s life was the definition of low-maintenance, and if she hadn’t seen him in the kitchen—obsessing over every detail—she would think he liked to keep everything frictionless and stress-free.
Easy to leave.
Paige shook her head. What was she doing? She’d come over to have fun tonight, another bold, reckless adventure, not to stew over deep thoughts about the future.
The plan was not to think at all.
She reached for the belt tie and sent Declan a saucy grin. “I was working on something new, and I thought you might want a special preview.”
“Always,” he said immediately. “By the way, have I told you how much I love your job? Because I love your job.”
Paige laughed, relaxing again. “A client wanted something a little . . . wilder than usual. I figured I should road-test the design first. Just to be sure it had the desired effect.”
“And what effect is that?” Declan asked, moving closer.
Paige unknotted the belt and let her trench coat slip to the floor.
Declan’s jaw dropped.
“That one,” she said, her heart already racing faster. She felt his gaze on her like it was fire: his eyes sweeping slowly over every inch of her as she stood before him in deep violet silk, and daring, wicked lace.
“I . . .” Declan stopped. He looked lost for words, and Paige felt a thrill of victory. For years, men had looked at her kindly, adoring, even. But none of them had watched her with the raw, naked desire she saw in Declan’s eyes.
It made her bold. It made her feel invincible.
“I mean . . .” Declan was still struggling to speak, so Paige cut him off with a kiss, coming up on her tiptoes to press her lips to his. This time, she was the one setting the pace: breathless and eager, slipping her tongue deep to taste and tease him, as her body arched closer and Declan groaned into her mouth.
“Paige . . .” He made a sound that was halfway between agony and delight, and she took that as her cue: gently tracing her fingertips over his bare torso and resting them at the top of his towel. She tugged.
“You’re overdressed,” she whispered, and Declan smiled against her.
“My bad.”
He took her waist and walked them back towards the bedroom, kissing her the whole way. His mouth caressed her neck, her chest, and Paige moaned aloud at the sensation.
This was too good to spoil with thoughts of the future. This was too good to do anything except surrender to the pleasure, drumming hot in her veins.
She pulled his towel away as they stumbled back into the bedroom, landing on his bed. She touched him hungrily, recklessly, wanting to feel and taste every inch. Paige kissed her way across the bronzed planes of his body, loving the way his skin leapt to her touch.
She closed her mouth around him and lost herself in the rush. The power and precious thrill, how her body was a livewire now, electric and taut. Declan groaned with pleasure beneath her, but it wasn’t long before he was hauling her to meet his mouth again, kissing her hard and hot until they both were gasping. He stripped off her bra and panties, covering her skin with searing kisses as he went.
She couldn’t get enough of him, not if she had a hundred nights just like this to savor.
Declan rolled away for a moment, reaching for the nightstand, but then he was back, covering her body with the broad, thick weight of him, slipping his hands between them and making her gasp, pleasure white-hot in his fingertips.
“Declan . . .” she moaned his name aloud, and she felt how his breath hitched to hear it. “I need you.”
“God, Paige . . .”
His voice was ragged, and he quickly took the condom and sheathed himself. “Fuck, I don’t think I can hold back,” he said, bracing himself above her.
“So don’t.” Paige slid her hands over his back, urging him on. “Don’t hold back. I want it all.”
He thrust inside her, and Paige forgot her own name.
Oh my God.
It was heat, and fire, and sweet, thick friction. It was a need like nothing she’d ever known. She arched up against him, driving to meet every stroke as he thrust into her again, and the world contracted to just their bodies, and labored breath, and the sound of him groaning her name.
Paige couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but hold on for dear life, chasing the ache that twisted brighter, burned higher, sending her hurtling to the edge. Declan rolled them suddenly, bringing her down hard astride his lap, and Paige cried out as the pleasure took on a new angle, a new sweet, deep stroke. He guided her into the wild rhythm, his mouth finding one breast as Paige took over, rocking into him as her world began to shift and splinter, almost too good to bear. She was shuddering there on the precipice, ready to fall.
And then Declan glanced up, his eyes searching. Paige was caught in his gaze. It felt like he could see right to the heart of her, every last breath. The parts of herself she’d never been brave enough to show. The secrets she kept, that restless voice in the back of her head, wanting more. He saw them all, and he wanted her all the more for it. She couldn’t hide, and she didn’t want to.
With him, she was free.
Declan reached to brush back a strand of hair from her face, and the tenderness of that one gesture broke her wide open. She came apart with a cry, collapsing against him as the pleasure took her over. But Declan held her fast, pinning her in place, thrusting over and over until she couldn’t help but break again, feeling his body arch and roar against her, as he exploded in her arms, pulling her under, weightless in his arms.
Paige gasped for air, reeling from the pleasure, her body bright and alive with the vivid hum. But even as she clung to him, she knew there was no going back.
Now that she’d tasted what true release felt like, how would she ever settle for anything less?
15
Declan woke at dawn. Paige was sleeping soundly beside him, curled up in the sheets. For a
moment, he felt a swell of pride, remembering how she’d gasped and moaned beneath him. Every time he took her over the edge, it felt like a miracle. Every time he lost himself in her sweetness, he only wanted more.
She belonged to him.
Declan froze. He didn’t get possessive, and he sure as hell didn’t sit up, stroking a woman’s hair as she slept. But Paige felt so right in his arms, it was intoxicating. A taste of something simple, a memory of a flavor he’d been chasing, like he already knew her by heart.
He needed to get some breathing room.
Declan slipped out of bed, trying not to wake her. Paige rolled over and made a noise of protest.
“Shh, I’m just going for a surf,” he whispered, soothing her. “I’ll be back.”
She murmured again, still sleeping. She looked angelic with her hair splayed around her head on the pillow, one arm draped in the space where he’d just been laying.
Leaving her naked in his bed seemed unthinkable, but Declan had a restless itch in his veins now. He couldn’t think straight when she was around; he wanted her too much for that. Not just her body, but the other moments, too: the way her eyes lit up when she talked about her designs, that infectious laugh, and the glimpses she was slowly showing him of the woman she kept hidden out of sight.
He pulled on his wetsuit and grabbed his board from the hallway. It was a short walk across the shore road and down to the sand, so early that he was alone on the beach with the sun still rising on the horizon.
Surfing always centered him. The restaurant could get crazy sometimes, but out here, none of that mattered. It was just him, the board, and the waves—and a few gulls circling overhead. Declan braced himself against the cold water and waded in, ducking under a wave and surfacing with a gasp. The water was perfect today, the breaks rolling in steady swells, and it took no time for him to catch his first perfect ride.
Declan lived for this: the rush that came when his body and the ocean and the wind all were in perfect balance, speeding over the water like he was weightless, at one with the world. Cal teased him sometimes about going all hippy-dippy over his mornings on the board, but what could he say? There was nothing quite like it.
Except his nights with Paige.
Declan sighed. He was used to being alone, bobbing gently on the dawn tide with nobody around for miles. The women he spent time with always knew to be gone before he got back, letting themselves out with a flirty note and a promise to maybe hang out again sometime. But he could already picture Paige snuggled up beneath the covers, and dammit if he didn’t want to cut things short and get back to her, slide into bed and wake her with a slow, deep kiss.
Whatever happened to no strings, no mess, no drama?
He’d broken his own damn rules, that’s what happened. He’d always stayed away from good girls because he thought he would only break their hearts, but it turned out, one had gotten a hold of his, instead. And now . . .
Now he felt an unfamiliar conflict, tearing him in two very different directions. Out to the solitary horizon, or back into Paige’s arms. But it wasn’t just about this morning, either. Rich’s offer was bigger than that. Travel. Ambition. Hell, the way he pitched it, they wouldn’t be settling for anything less than global culinary domination. Declan would never have thought twice before jumping at an opportunity like that.
Until her.
His jaw tightened. It was way too soon to be feeling this way. He shouldn’t be feeling it at all. He didn’t let women affect him like this. Sure, he had some fun, between the restaurant and friends and travel. But you couldn’t just turn around one day and build a whole world around someone.
Could he?
Declan shook away the thought. He’d always known what he wanted. He had his life figured out. No friction holding him back, no adventure out of reach. It was just him and his knife kit, remember? Hopping a plane on a whim to go soak on a beach somewhere. Heading out on a Friday night for drinks and winding up halfway across the country in a dive bar with half a NASCAR team. He knew from his childhood that all the best intentions in the world wouldn’t keep you rooted. It was better to just accept that everything changed. Embrace it and learn to thrive on the risk.
Paige wasn’t a rolling stone like him. Even her version of changing her life meant putting down roots: signing a lease and setting up her store, making friends, and building a life somewhere. She deserved that security, and he’d known from the start he wasn’t the guy to give it to her.
Sure, they could have their fun now, but that was all it was ever supposed to be.
He just had to remember it this time.
16
Paige stretched, luxuriating in Declan’s empty bed. OK, so his decor was a little on the sparse side, but at least he didn’t scrimp on good linens. She flopped back into the pillows, feeling on top of the world.
A morning workout? She could barely think about getting up, let alone heading out into the cold ocean for a swim. But then again, Declan clearly had enough stamina to spare . . .
Paige giggled, and eventually rolled out of bed. She found a robe on the back of the door and set about retrieving her underwear from where it was scattered around the apartment to get dressed, except . . .
She didn’t have any clothes.
Paige paused. She obviously hadn’t read the guide on midnight seductions, because it would have probably mentioned bringing a spare set of clothing for the morning after. And she wasn’t going to risk heading out in just her knickers and a trench coat, not in broad daylight, anyway.
She’d just have to improvise instead.
Paige took a quick shower and found an oversized button-down in Declan’s wardrobe. It was long enough to be almost decent, so she rolled up the sleeves and belted it with the cord from her coat. There.
She padded out into the living area and looked around. The place was silent and totally still. Hmmm. If she peered over the balcony, she could just about make out Declan’s figure in the ocean, or maybe that was just a piece of driftwood, but Paige could imagine him, gliding over the waves. He would come back in dripping wet, with that mischievous look in his eyes, ready for a romantic breakfast somewhere—
Breakfast! She was no genius in the kitchen, but she could make her mom’s famous waffles with her eyes closed. She crossed to the spotless kitchen, and sure enough, there was a waffle iron in one of the cabinets under the sink. She found all the ingredients she needed stored away: eggs, flour, butter, so Paige grabbed a mixing bowl and got to sifting and stirring, filling the apartment with music from her favorite playlist.
She hummed along happily, her whole body feeling warm with morning afterglow. Last night had been amazing, and not just because of the way he touched her. Declan saw her all the way to the core, the way no man had before.
And Paige saw him too.
The reckless adventurer; the passionate, single-minded artist; the thoughtful, caring friend. She saw it all, and with every new facet, she realized that Declan had been selling himself short. There was so much more to him than just the charming player he made himself out to be.
More to love.
Paige gulped. She’d been lying to Eliza when she claimed she wasn’t falling for him.
But what was so wrong with that? Paige whisked the batter harder, sending it into airy bubbles. Declan felt something for her too, she saw it in his eyes whenever they were together. She was supposed to be taking risks, wasn’t she?
And what was love, if not the ultimate risk?
Paige finished prepping the waffles and put some bacon on to grill. He’d been out on the water for hours now, so she stepped back out into the balcony, searching the shore.
Then she noticed his truck was gone from out front.
She found her phone. Did you leave already?
Yup. Headed to Sage. Maybe see you later xo
Oh.
Paige turned off the grill, trying to ignore the disappointment in her chest. She found some clear wrap for the mixing bowl and stashed i
t in the fridge, then cleaned up. They hadn’t made plans for breakfast, she reminded herself, and of course he needed to get to work. She did too, she had the store to open, and Ingrid’s order to work on. Plus, Brooke was dropping by later to discuss her trunk show plan . . .
Have fun, xo
* * *
Paige wrote him back, then gathered her stuff and headed out, dashing up to her apartment above the store to change into something a little less naked before unlocking and flipping the sign above the door to “open.”
She went to go put on the teakettle, figuring it would be a quiet day, but to her surprise, she’d barely put the water on before the bell dinged her to attention.
“Isn’t this beautiful?” a dark-haired woman exclaimed, peeking in and looking around. “Zoey, Tegan,” she called behind her, “You have to come see!”
The women crowded in, oohing and aahing. “I have more in my studio,” Paige invited them, and soon, they were all trying on half a dozen pieces—and commissioning a dozen more. The activity continued throughout the day, until she finally flipped the sign back over at five and paused for breath.
Mackenzie hadn’t been kidding about summer tourist trade. She had taken more orders than she usually did in months!
Maybe it was time to raise her prices . . .
Paige checked her phone. There was nothing from Declan, so she typed out a quick text. How’s your day going?
There was no reply, and she could just imagine him in the kitchen, with a dozen pans going. Want to come over after your shift? she added.
She tucked her phone away and tidied up, then walked down to the market a couple of blocks away to stock up on essentials. If she was going to be entertaining midnight callers, she needed more than just grilled cheese to offer. Paige browsed the shelves, grabbing some veggies and pasta and some bunches of tulips that caught her eye. Usually, she kept things simple and could live off toast and soup when she was busy with an order, but she was shopping through Declan’s eyes now, wanting to get the freshest produce, the juiciest fruit . . .
