“But then, Finola told me. She said it could happen.”
He slowed his step as they reached the doorway. “Finola? My grandmother?”
“Yes, she was here yesterday.”
Gramma Finnie had been here? While Declan processed that, Max released his grip on Declan’s arm and crossed the room to a massive four-poster, taking off his slippers and easing his body onto the bed.
“She’s a fine-looking woman, that Finnie Kilcannon.”
Declan gave a quick laugh. “She’s…something.” Including a little deceptive. He’d handed her a bag of croissants a few hours ago and told her that Evie was coming to see the dog. She’d never said a word about being here yesterday.
Of course she’d understand all the emotions of this house, but it was unlike his grandmother not to at least offer up her best Irish saying to fit the situation. Instead, she’d shared a few secret looks with her partner-in-crime, Yiayia.
What the hell was she up to? Sending him to the bakery and…
“So, let me guess,” Declan said as it all started to make sense. “You and my grandmother both had a sudden need for raspberry croissants at exactly the same time this morning.”
He lifted his gray brows and took his time getting situated in the bed. “And what if we did?”
Declan smiled, helping him pull up the covers as he fell back on a few propped-up pillows. “Then I’d say you were both very…optimistic.”
“What else is there when you’re staring down the barrel of one hundred years old?”
There’s minding your own business. But he didn’t have the heart to say that. “Well, I’m not exactly sure what you think will come of this, but—”
“A baby.”
Declan jerked back. “Excuse me?”
“A baby could come of this.”
“A…” He couldn’t even say the word.
“Oh, I know Finnie wants hearts, flowers, and a big ol’ wedding, and that’s fine…or not. But there is one thing my granddaughter needs, and only one thing to make her—and me, if I have to be honest—happy.”
A baby? Declan stared at the old man.
“Good idea, huh?” Max gave a grin, obviously misinterpreting Declan’s stunned response. “You could do that, right?”
He didn’t even take the time to let that idea settle, instead deciding to explain something to the old man. “I know this might seem like science-fiction to you, sir, but the world is different today. If Evie wants a child, then she is quite capable of doing that by herself. With medical assistance, obviously.” Or she could adopt.
Max barked out a laugh. “It doesn’t seem like science-fiction, son. It seems like balderdash. Why would she go to some clinic and have a stranger’s kid with no guarantee that she’s swimming in a good gene pool? You’re a known quantity. Good family. Nice bones. Decent brain. Fine heart.” He tapered his eyes to slits. “And I don’t imagine it would kill anyone to try.”
“Oh, Max.” He shook his head, if for no other reason than to clear it. “That’s not something you…offer up like…a piece of candy.”
He made a face, pulling up the blankets and comforter. “Then let her be the last of one of the greatest family lines that ever lived,” he murmured.
Seriously? “She doesn’t have to be if—”
“She’s forty,” he said gruffly. “I don’t know if she ever went to some fancy doctor to store up for a rainy day. Probably thought her whole damn life she’d marry…” He shot an accusatory gaze at Declan. “Someone.”
The word pressed on his chest, but Declan stood stone-still, because the old guy probably wasn’t wrong about that.
Max gave the comforter a good pat. “I’m all set now, son. Thank you for your time.”
Declan took one step back, still processing. This was more than your run-of-the-mill, granny-induced romance intervention. Everyone in his family knew the two matriarchs fancied themselves as matchmakers, but this? This was way bigger than an arranged date.
“Yes?” Max asked when Declan didn’t leave. “You have more to say on the subject?”
So much more. “Max, I could never…do that and not want to be part of…everything.”
“That’s what Finnie said. ‘He’s an honorable lad,’” he mimicked. “Fine. Be honorable, then. That beautiful woman downstairs was born to be a mother.”
He honestly couldn’t argue with that. Evie was a natural nurturer, but she’d funneled all that into animals. Was he wrong in thinking that was enough?
“And Finnie said you’ve done nothing but act like a father for half your life.” He lifted his straggly brows. “Maybe it’s time you be one for a change.”
Did he really think that was something two people could just do? Didn’t he realize the monumental responsibility involved?
“So.” Max dragged the single syllable out. “Time’s a-wastin’, young Mahoney. And I’m gonna kick the bucket any day.” He closed his eyes. “Tell Evie I’m not hungry. And maybe bring Judah up. I think he’ll be good company. Thank you, Declan.”
This time, he couldn’t deny the dismissal as Max closed his eyes. But had his silence meant agreement to this old man? Because he sure as hell wasn’t…
A baby?
That would be insane. Impossible. Life-changing and rule-breaking and not the way things were done. Not to mention the fact that Evie really didn’t need him in the scheme of things. And he sure as hell didn’t need…
Hell. He didn’t know what he needed. In the space of a few hours, his whole life had tilted sideways.
Max started snoring, so Declan walked out, so dazed he practically walked into Evie carrying a tray.
“He went to sleep,” he told her.
“Of course he did. Well, I’ll put this by his bed, and then we can finish getting Judah set up.”
“He asked that we bring Judah up here.” Among other strange requests.
“Really? Huh.” She nodded as she went into the room and quietly set the tray on a table near the bed. While Declan stood in the doorway, she smoothed Max’s comforter and tucked it around him, suddenly looking very…maternal.
Good God, was it really Declan’s fault she didn’t have her own family?
“Judah here with you? You’re full of good ideas, Granddaddy,” she whispered, leaning over to kiss him on the forehead.
He was full of ideas, that was for sure. Good, crazy, laughable, and balderdash, whatever the hell that was.
She stood, took a minute to adjust the shutters to darken the room, then joined Declan at the door.
“Don’t even think about it,” she said with a raised, teasing brow.
That was the terrifying thing. He was. Might not think about anything else. “Think about…”
“Leaving without telling me what he wanted to talk to you about.” She tugged on his T-shirt sleeve, pulling him into the hall. “I won’t rest until I know.”
She wouldn’t rest if she did.
* * *
It was the house. It had to be. What else could have made Declan change from the easygoing, warm, present man he’d been all day, to the one who suddenly seemed…distant?
“I guess bringing him here was a mistake,” Evie said when the last of the supplies were unloaded.
“Because he needs bags of food the size of a football field?” He lowered the sack of dry food to the laundry room floor. “I doubt he’ll eat it, anyway.”
“I can make him plain chicken,” she said. “No dog turns down chicken, and he needs to eat. And that’s another reason I didn’t want him crying in a crate. He’ll eat once he gets comfortable here.”
“You think he can?”
“Eventually.” She eyed him as she leaned against the washing machine, trying to decide if honesty would make him disappear for twenty years again. Because even when he got quiet and cool, she didn’t want Declan far away. “But I didn’t mean him being here was a mistake. I meant you.”
His broad shoulders rose and fell with a sigh. “I’m fine,”
he said.
Really? Because he’d changed so dramatically in the last half hour. “I guess this can’t be easy for you.”
“No, no, it’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
He leaned over to pick up some kibble that had fallen from the top of the bag, suddenly preoccupied with cleaning up the laundry room. “Just trying to…” He blew out a breath. “Anyway, I better get back to Waterford, or I’ll miss dinner completely,” he said.
“You can have dinner here.”
He looked at her, a storm she didn’t understand brewing behind his eyes. “That’s okay. You have enough to worry about.”
“You can’t leave until you tell me why Granddaddy wanted privacy,” she said playfully, trying to lighten the mood. “He goes on these crazy kicks about things he wants to give people in his will. It won’t upset me if he mentioned dying, because he says that all the time. Did he offer you his prized fishing rod or something?”
“Something,” he said vaguely, looking at his watch.
“Okay, then.” She pushed off the washer, the sting of his rebuff zinging up her spine as she turned to walk out. “I guess we’re back to chilly exchanges and brick walls for us. Fun while it lasted, though.” As she started out the door, his fingers clamped on her arm, stopping her.
“Evie.”
She turned, meeting his gaze, which was…tortured. Why? The house? Granddaddy? Her? What could make him look so utterly torn? “What is it?”
“My grandmother was here.”
The non sequitur—or what seemed like one—threw her. “I know. I let her in, along with her friend Yiayia.”
“Do you know why?”
“Um, actually, I do. The Greek lady spilled the beans, and I understand there’s some underhanded matchmaking going on.”
“To say the least.”
“And that’s what’s bothering you?” For some reason, her heart hitched. Was the very idea of them together the thing that put such torment in his eyes?
“Your grandfather and my grandmother both had a sudden craving for croissants at precisely the same time,” he said.
She gave a soft laugh. “They enlisted his help? I don’t know, Declan, it’s kind of sweet.”
“Sweet? Evie, there’s more—”
She put her hand to his lips, the warm shock to her fingertips a small price to pay to end his obvious misery. She got it. He hated the idea.
“Well, don’t worry about that,” she said with false brightness. “It’s nothing but octogenarian foolishness. I’m not interested.”
“You’re not?”
“Of course not, Declan.”
His gaze moved over her face with a questioning look. “You’re…not?”
“You need it in writing?” she asked, but as soon as the words came out, she regretted them. Did he remember—
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “I thought you should know what they’re up to.”
“I knew.”
“And never mentioned it to me?”
She bit back a soft laugh. “We just ran into each other this morning, and we’ve been a little busy with Judah. But jeez, Dec, you don’t have to act like the idea is…toxic.”
“It’s kind of huge, don’t you think?”
She stood still for a moment, torn about how best to respond. Was the idea of them together again so freaking awful that he had to look pained by the idea?
Well, she had to remember the history. It would always be there, like a cloud hanging over them, stealing sunshine.
“I better go check on Judah.” She slipped out of the laundry room before he could stop her again, trying to will her heart to settle.
Which had no place being unsettled. She hadn’t seriously entertained any thoughts of rekindling anything with Declan, had she? Sure, she ogled his muscles and enjoyed his company and spent an extra minute or two studying his sexy lips and thinking about a friendship from long ago.
But did he have to flip out at the idea that people who loved them both wanted them to be happy? Did he have to…shut down? Of course he did. That, apparently, was Declan’s MO.
“Hey, baby.” She folded onto the floor next to Judah, grateful he was still resting, even though his eyes were open. “Those meds making you feel better? I’ll give you more when they wear off. No need for you to freak out about being in a strange place when you get sober.”
“Do you want me to carry him upstairs to your grandfather’s room?” Declan asked as he followed her into the entry hall a minute later.
“If he goes up there, I have to be sure he can navigate the steps,” she said, pushing up. “Let’s see how you handle adversity, Judah.” She couldn’t help sending a little glance at Declan to underscore her point.
If he picked it up, he wasn’t reacting. Instead, he stared up the stairs. “Long way up there for a dog with a compressed spine,” he said.
She put her hand on Judah’s head and guided him toward the stairs. “You decide, Judah. Can you do stairs, big boy?”
He made his way to the bottom, looking up as if he understood exactly what she’d said. Then he lifted one paw, looked at her, then dropped his head and began to climb. After a few steps, she turned him around to be sure he could get back down, which he did quite well.
“He really does speak English,” Declan said.
“And he’s doing great.” She led him back up, letting him stop to sniff at the top. “Probably smells all the Thads of the past,” Evie said, a few steps behind him. “It’s good to have a dog in this house, don’t you think?”
“He won’t be too far from you?” Declan asked, carrying the bed as he joined her.
“Actually, this is ideal,” she said. “Not only can they keep each other company, but there’s a small camera in the room linked to my phone.” She pointed at him. “Do not tell Granddaddy.”
“You spy on him?”
“I make sure he’s breathing in the middle of the night,” she said, ushering the dog down the hall.
“Did you listen before? When I was in there?” He actually sounded worried.
“No, I didn’t.” She headed into the room. Granddaddy was still sound asleep, wiped out from his trip down and up the grand stairs, but they set up Judah not far from the bed and closed the door.
When they were on the way downstairs, Evie resisted the urge to ask Declan to stay again. There was only so much rejection a woman could take in one day.
“I don’t know how to thank you for all this,” he said, a few steps behind her on the stairs.
“Please, I’ve missed hands-on vet work.” She turned at the bottom, watching him come down. “And if you wanted to help me get him to Vestal Valley for the MRI tomorrow, I would appreciate that.”
He stopped on the final step, his large hand landing on the newel, which of course rocked at the touch.
“Whoa.” He pulled back. “Did I break that?”
“No, it was already loose. Like so many things in this house, it needs work. I found crown molding buckling in my bedroom upstairs, and half the windows don’t open and close easily. You heard Granddaddy—that heinous red rug you’re standing on is as old as he is, and the whole house is as wobbly as that dog.”
“I could help you.”
She blinked at him. “Excuse me?”
“I’m pretty handy,” he said. “I’ve done a ton of work at my grandmother’s Victorian. It’s nothing like this, obviously, but I helped repair the basement stairs that damn near killed my sister-in-law. And I did work on some crown molding there, too. I could fix all the windows easily. I’ve been doing stuff like that for years, thanks to my strange work schedule.”
“Would you want to do that?” Since he was acting so damn weird.
He angled his head. “I just said I didn’t know how to thank you for the help with Judah, so yeah, I’d like to.”
“But…you’d be here. In this house. With me.”
He laughed softly. “You make that sound like hell.”
His smile disappeared. “Evie. Come on. We’ve got a huge bridge to cross, both of us. I would very much…” He swallowed, clearly struggling with the words. “I’d like to be friends again, despite what plots the oldsters are cooking up.”
She stared up at him, letting the statement wash over her. Friends. He was offering an olive branch, and she should take it. Maybe not the offer of her dreams, but with twenty years and a million miles between them, it was better than nothing.
“I’d like that, too,” she said.
“Friends?” He reached out his hand, holding it palm up.
She hesitated a second or two, then put her hand in his. “Friends.”
They clasped each other’s hand, and he came down the last stair, and she took a step closer, and without another word, he guided her against his chest, folding his arms around her.
As soon as she felt his heart beating against hers, she knew that, deep down, she wanted more, but probably wasn’t ever going to get it.
Chapter Seven
On his way to pick up Judah and Evie for their appointment at the college, Declan made a stop in town at Bone Appetit, the dog treat and accessory store his sister owned and ran with their mother. Judah would probably love something from Ella’s array of organic dog treats, and Declan could use…someone to talk to.
His brothers were his usual go-to for advice, but Connor and Braden weren’t exactly neutral on the subject of relationships anymore. They were both up to their eyeballs in love, and that colored everything from their perspectives. He needed to talk to someone who’d agree that the idea Max Hewitt had planted was dumber than dirt.
Not that Ella was an actual foundation of stability, but she was the only one of his siblings and cousins not yet married or involved. She was thirty-two now, ran a successful business, and her wanderlust appeared to have toned down over the years. He couldn’t remember the last time his kid sister had the sudden urge to backpack through Patagonia or go mushing in Alaska. Plus, he loved the hell out of her sassy self.
After the sleepless night he’d had, he could use the company. And coffee, and Ella always had that fancy by-the-cup stuff at the store.
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