Man's Best Friend (The Dogmothers Book 6)

by Roxanne St Claire

  “I knew it in the mountains that morning when I woke up,” he whispered. “I knew I loved you and that we’d always…” His throat grew thick, and she quieted him with a kiss.

  “I knew it, too,” she murmured against his mouth. “Always you, only you.”

  They got lost in another kiss, while everything in the world faded away.

  “So, last time. Protection?” he asked when they parted.

  “I have all the protection I need right here in my arms.”

  “Then let me love you, E.”

  Declan was as tender and gentle as he’d been the night she’d given him her virginity. Every touch, every stroke, every delicate exploration was done with the sole purpose of making sure Evie felt safe and pleasured.

  Of course they laughed and whispered, like they had on that blanket under the stars. And he slid the rest of her clothes off with the same crazy-slow care he’d used on her jeans that first time, pressing his lips to her as if every new inch of exposed skin was a glorious discovery that he had to taste and inhale and explore.

  He let her finish undressing him, then eased them both under the covers with the same confidence he’d rolled out that sleeping bag and cocooned with her inside it.

  He left her breathless with kisses, taking his time to let her whole body wind up and grow needy and tense as they rolled and rocked and touched and teased.

  “I’m having déjà vu,” she whispered into his mouth.

  “If you make a pun now…”

  She laughed, turning them over so she was on top for a moment. “I’m serious. I keep thinking of that night in the mountains.” She planted a few kisses on his chest, letting the hair there tickle her lips. “Only you have more muscles now.”

  “And I bet I can last longer than two minutes.”

  “That was only the first time.” She looked up and smiled as she slid farther down his body. “Plus, it was the best two minutes of my life.” She closed her hand over him and drew her tongue along his abs. “Until tonight.”

  He groaned as she stroked him, then pulled her up and turned her on her back, kissing her until she could barely breathe, holding her with those big strong hands. “It was worth the wait,” he said. “Worth every minute of twenty years for right now.”

  She wrapped her legs around his hips, so ready to feel him inside her. “Declan.”

  “Evie.”

  “Now?”

  He touched her lightly, making her hips rise, feeling how ready she was. “Now.”

  He held her gaze, then lowered to kiss her, connecting their mouths as their bodies did the same, a sweet trick that made her whole being quiver with pleasure.

  He moved slowly at first, making her writhe and moan, then they found a perfect rhythm that seemed to match her heartbeat, increasing every second, pleasure lapping at her body, tightening her limbs, but making her feel utterly boneless and lost.

  She forgot about the world, the past, the icy years. There was only right now, this very minute, this blissful, intense, perfect connection of two people who had never known anything but love for each other.

  New and remembered sensations zinged over her body, hot sparks when he caressed her skin, dreamy waves of pleasure rolling inside her, and tight knots of need that threatened to unravel with each stroke.

  He seemed to somehow hold her poised between the most beautiful elevation and a crashing out-of-control spiral that made her giddy and dizzy and free.

  And just like that, he kissed her again, held still for two or three heartbeats, and her body gave in. She clung to him, pressing her lips against his powerful shoulder, squeezing her eyes shut as she quaked with satisfaction. She’d barely caught the next breath when he took the same ride, murmuring her name over and over again as he lost every shred of some rather impressive control.

  With one last groan, he fell against her, their bodies damp and shaky and sticky and spent.

  “So, are you supposed to lie really still or put up your legs or something?” he asked after a moment.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I’ve never tried getting pregnant this way.”

  He laughed a little. “How’d you like this new, conventional method?”

  “You’re no nurse with a syringe, Mahoney, but you’ll do.”

  He managed to lean up on one elbow to look down at her. “Was this the right time of the month?”

  “Close enough.”

  “But we’ll still have to try again.” He kissed her. “And again. And…”

  She put her hand on his cheek, stopping the next kiss. “I don’t care, Declan.”

  He searched her face, a frown forming. “Did you change your mind?”

  “No, I don’t care if I get pregnant or not. I only care about you right now. About us. About finding our way back to each other and not letting anything ever get in the way of us again.”

  A shadow crossed his expression, fast and gone before anyone who didn’t know him as well as she did would ever have noticed. “There’s going to be an us?” he asked.

  “There is an us.”

  “What about…life? And where we live? And how we live?”

  “Can we figure that out as we go along?” she asked. “I’m drunk on Declan and can’t think straight.”

  That made him smile. “E.” He whispered the single letter, tracing her lips with his finger. “E is for everything. Excellent. Electrifying.”

  “Big D,” she teased. “For delicious and darling and…” She bit her lip. “Daddy.”

  With a moan that sounded like it came from somewhere deep inside, he squeezed her in a full-body embrace. “I can’t remember the last time I was this happy.”

  “I remember it. I just remembered every moment of it.”

  He closed his eyes and rested, wrapped together, not moving for a long, long time. And Evie finally, finally felt as if twenty years had never passed.

  * * *

  Something wet and heavy scraped Declan’s face. Hot breath puffed against his ear. And a hairy paw landed on his chest, making him grunt and open his eyes.

  “Whoa…” He groaned the word, eyeballing the dog trying to get onto the bed.

  Next to him, Evie stirred, flipping her head on the pillow and opening sleepy blue eyes. She gasped and popped up. “Judah! No.” In a flash, she was out from under the covers and rolling over Declan and using both hands to keep Judah down. “I know you feel good, honey, but you can’t climb onto beds yet.”

  Judah let himself be eased back to the ground, his brown eyes locked on Evie’s bare breasts.

  “Annnnd I’m naked,” she said, sliding a slightly shy look at Declan.

  “And the problem with that is…” Smiling and not able to take his gaze from her, Declan reached down to the floor and grabbed the first article of clothing he found. “Fine. But she looks good without her fur, right, Judah?”

  He barked twice.

  “What’d he say, Dolittle?”

  “He said you’re a dirty dog.” She pulled the top over her head, which was a waste of time since he’d have it off in a minute anyway. Like he had last night when they’d slipped into the kitchen at midnight to devour hoagies and potato chips and each other up against the counter.

  As soon as she scrambled back under the covers, Declan wrapped himself around her. “God, you’re the best thing I’ve ever opened my eyes to see first thing in the morning.”

  She kissed him lightly, then pulled back. “What time is it?”

  Declan slid deeper into the bed, rolling onto his side to line up their bodies, curling his leg over her bare thigh. “Time to try again.”

  “Mmm.” She bent into his body, warm and silky. “But I have to get Granddaddy’s breakfast at seven. Is it past seven?”

  He eased back to break the news. “It’s past eight.”

  “Dang it.” The covers flipped again. “He’ll be starving. Where’s my phone? I need to check to see if he’s still in bed. Oh, and Nellie Shaker’s coming over at noon with some of th
e ladies from the Historical Society, but I invited your sister and cousins and mom and the grannies to come at eleven.”

  He drew back, confused. “Why?”

  “To pick out some dresses for the Founder’s Day Living Museum party. I want your family to have the first choices. And this afternoon, I have some patients to see at Molly’s after I take Judah over to Vestal Valley for a session with Christine. What are you doing today?”

  “I thought I was making a baby, but it seems that Mom is way too involved in other stuff.”

  She smiled as if the name had given her a genuine kick of pleasure. “Then rest today and store up for a big night.”

  “Nope. We’re going to baby-make before anyone shows up before eleven.” He pushed out of the bed. “You stay here, and I’ll get Max’s breakfast.”

  “And explain your presence how?”

  Snagging his boxers, he threw her a look. “First of all, if he knew the truth, he’d dance down those stairs and throw a party. Second, I could have shown up here to work. Or to check on Judah. Or to see you. Do I need a reason for being here?”

  “I guess not. But I can take him tea and applesauce and avoid the whole discussion altogether.”

  “You’ll be up there for an hour tending to his every need,” he said. “I’ll take him breakfast. You stay here and rest up for the next attempt. I’ll tell him you’re very busy with Judah.”

  Judah sat up at the mention of his name, his look hopeful.

  “And while the water’s heating up for tea, I’ll take our boy out to the back for a trip to the grass,” he added.

  “Declan,” she sighed.

  “Evie.” He mimicked her tone perfectly.

  She smiled up at him, a lock of dark hair falling over one eye, her lips pink from all that kissing. “Is this how you’d take care of me if I was pregnant?”

  “If? Think positive. Maybe you already are.”

  “Nah, they’re still swimming around on an egg hunt.” She tapped her tummy. “You can do it, guys. It’s waitin’ for you.” She smiled up at him. “Like I’ve been waiting for you, Captain.”

  He studied her for a moment, wanting to run his fingers through that hair, or brush his knuckles over her well-kissed mouth, or fold her into his arms and tell her that she would be the most pampered, protected, and loved expectant mother on earth. But he stared at her and let the moment wash over him. “I still can’t believe this.”

  “That we’re trying to get pregnant?”

  He traced a line along her jaw, careful not to move that strand of hair because it made her look so sexy. “That you forgave me,” he whispered. “That you trust me again.”

  She closed her hand over his. “Don’t dwell on what wasn’t, Dec. Think about what’s going to be. Like how loud that bell upstairs is going to be ringing any minute.”

  “On it. Wait for me. Do not move.”

  “Bathroom?”

  “In and out and back in bed so we can try one more time before your day explodes with activity.” After he pulled on his jeans and T-shirt, he bent over to kiss her again.

  She fisted his T-shirt and pulled him closer. “By the way, Declan Joseph Mahoney, you have been working on your technique for twenty years.”

  He gave a quick laugh. “Not that much.”

  “Well, last night was a-freaking-mazing.”

  “Hold that thought, E.” One last kiss. “I hear the bell.”

  He didn’t even try to wipe the smile off his face when he walked into Max’s room, carrying a tray with hot tea and applesauce, a few minutes later.

  “Room service,” he called out when he saw that Max was awake and sitting up.

  “That’s a different delivery person,” the old man said, turning to catch sight of Declan. “What are you doing here at this hour?”

  He zipped through his options and settled on Judah. “I wanted to—”

  “Oh, never mind. I can see exactly what you’ve been up to.”

  “You can?” He set the legs of the bed tray on the comforter, suddenly wondering if she’d left lipstick on him or, God, a hickey. Things had gotten a little wild in the middle of the night.

  “She could have at least told you your shirt’s inside out.”

  Declan choked a soft laugh, looking down to see the seam of his T-shirt. “My bad.”

  Max gave him a fully toothless grin, reminding Declan of one of the Kilcannon babies. “No, you’re good.” He looked down at the tray, then back up at Declan. “Thank you.”

  He nodded, uncertain if he was being thanked for breakfast…or how the shirt got inside out.

  “Will you open my drapes?” Max asked. “And maybe stay a moment?”

  As much as he wanted to get back to Evie, sympathy for the old man won out. “Sure.” Kneeling on the window seat, he slid the heavy curtains along the rod, letting morning light pour into the room. Turning, he perched on the edge, thinking how lonely it must be up here, especially without Judah.

  “Your buddy Judah’s doing great,” he said. “The biggest challenge is keeping him from being too active.”

  He nodded, spooning some of the applesauce. “He’s a good dog.”

  “A great one.”

  “He can live here with you and Evie.”

  Declan blinked at him. “Wow, you have things more figured out than we do,” he confessed.

  “I have it all figured out,” he said. “Me and the grandmothers. I might join their little matchmaking club.”

  Declan chuckled at that. “Just what they need, encouragement.”

  “That Greek one is nice-looking.” He sipped his tea. “Doesn’t mince words and plays a good game of gin rummy. And she makes a helluva cookie.”

  Declan was pretty sure her grandson made those, but who was he to argue with this happy man? “Good to see you in such high spirits, sir,” Declan said, wondering if this was the right time to maybe ask a question or two, maybe dig a little deeper into the things he’d talked to Kirby Lewis about. “So, I was looking at your impressive lighter collection the other day.”

  “Oh, those things.” He lifted a bony shoulder. “I rarely even pick one up anymore. I was just thinking about the Dunhill Alduna, though. Nice piece of workmanship there.”

  Declan shifted in his seat, not quite sure he wanted to take the conversation where it could naturally go, but when would he get another chance? “I know a little bit about lighters.”

  “I guess so, in your line of work.” He sipped his tea and looked at Declan over the rim.

  “Do any of those in your collection burn at 1300 degrees? I know that’s unusual.”

  “The Ronson Whirlwind,” he said without a second’s hesitation. “There are two of them down there. One’s gold with a blank engraving spot. The other’s a petrol lighter with a map of Scotland on it. And yes, there’s another one, too. Newer model.”

  “And you remember them all?”

  “Mostly.” He tapped his temple. “My memory is the only thing left that works at full speed.” He gave in to a wide grin and looked down at his body. “Although, if I spend more time with the Greek goddess, I think a few things might come back to life.”

  Declan gave a soft snort, kind of wishing he didn’t have that particular image in his brain. “Careful what you tell Finnie, then. She’ll have you and Agnes Santorini on a honeymoon before you know what hit you.”

  He gave a throaty laugh and spooned some more applesauce. “You know who’d hit me? Penny, when I got up to the pearly gates. I’m blowing off steam. But the memory’s sharp. Go ahead, test me.”

  Shifting on the window seat, Declan thought about all the things this man might have stored in that still-functioning memory of his. Like…the truth about what happened that hot August night.

  He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “Do you remember the fire?” he asked.

  Putting down the teacup, Max let out a long sigh. “Of course I do. I remember what pajamas I was wearing. I remember what I ate for dinner that night.
And I remember that my daughter-in-law isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed and maybe shouldn’t have been allowed to play with chemicals.”

  “You know, Max, there are actually two schools of thought about what happened that night.”

  His watery old eyes suddenly looked very, very sharp. “You want to clear Evie’s mother’s name?”

  “Her name doesn’t need to be cleared,” he said. “She did everything right with those chemicals, including putting the container outside. The official report said it was a wind gust that knocked the container over.”

  “Hmmm.” Max lifted his spoon, studying the applesauce like it held the answers to life.

  “Do you have any reason not to believe that assessment?”

  “Not really.” He stared into his teacup for a minute. A long minute. Then he looked up at Declan. “Do you?” he asked.

  Declan eyed the other man. “I’m looking into it,” he said quietly. “Considering all aspects of the investigation.”

  “They closed the investigation,” Max said, a tiny bit of defiance in his voice. “Called it an accident after a good long time and a lot of money and interviews.”

  “I know that.”

  “But you don’t agree?”

  He rubbed his hands over his jeans, not entirely sure how much to share. “I met with an arson investigator who thought maybe the accelerant was lighter fluid, not combusted rags.”

  Max stared at him.

  “And it’s his opinion that the fire might have started inside the sunroom, not outside on that patio. Maybe that’s the reason my father tried to get into the sunroom, which is something no one seems to understand.”

  Max still didn’t say a word, but Declan could see something in his eyes. Hurt. Fear. Maybe regret. He didn’t know.

  “Do you have any idea why he would have done that?” Declan asked.

  “I was out in the street when the upstairs veranda collapsed.”

  “Yeah, I know. But that day? Do you remember, maybe, spilling lighter fluid when you were cleaning your collection?”

  Old gray brows drew together, and his gaze grew narrower. “You want some advice, son?” He didn’t wait for Declan’s answer, but pointed an arthritic finger at him. “You go looking for trouble, you know what’s going to happen?”