by Jody Holford
“Am I the collectible here?”
Shit. He stepped back and let out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t have the words yet. But I will. I’m rushing because I know you have to meet with that guy. I don’t know how to make you understand that I want to explore what’s between us. I won’t lie to you. Ever. So yeah, the pregnancy freaks me out a bit. I mean, I’m already next door to crazy about you, and we haven’t even gone on a date. I want to see this through to know it’s more than just heat. The idea of not doing that scares me more than the idea of a baby.”
“Babies can be scary,” she admitted, making his heart clench hard and fast.
“I don’t want you to be scared. See? It’s that right there. The fact that I care less about my being scared and more about if you’re okay. About you knowing you’re not alone. I don’t have all the answers.” He ran a hand through his hair, fighting the urge to pull her close. “I miss you, Sophe. The house is too quiet without you. Have dinner with me tonight. I just want to spend some time with you.”
She took a deep breath, her eyes hard to read. “I do owe you lasagna.”
“You owe me nothing, but I’ll take it.”
She started to say something, then stopped. “I’m not sure—”
He cut her off, putting hands on her shoulders. He didn’t want to hear her say she wasn’t in the right place again. They were standing here together, and he wanted to see where that could take them. He hurried to get the rest of it out. “I feel like being with you matters more than every other treasure or collectible I’ve ever chased. Fuck. I’m totally messing this up. You’re not a possession. I don’t mean it like that. I just mean…”
She set the binder down and closed the space between them. Sophia put her hands on his cheeks, and he turned into one, breathing her in.
“You are seriously so sweet. I have no idea if what you said was romantic or a little frightening. But you practically swallowed your tongue when I said I was pregnant. Even if I could really wrap my head around the idea that you’re giving up your player lifestyle, a kid is more of a commitment than a relationship, Dec.”
Declan frowned and stepped back. “Go have your meeting.” Frustration and anger turned in his chest like heavy, rusted cogs.
Sophia tipped her head to the side. “You’re mad?”
He put his hands on his hips and dropped his head to give himself a second to think. He wasn’t doing so well with the words. When he looked back up, he saw the sadness and confusion in her eyes.
“Your parents only see you one way, right? Their little girl who didn’t conform. You’re still that little girl to them, right?”
She glanced at her watch then back up at him. “Yes.”
“Are you still the same person you were when you left?”
“No. Of course not.”
He stepped closer, leaned down. “Neither am I. You need to wrap your pretty head around that.”
Her mouth dropped open. He nudged it closed with his fingers and walked to his desk, giving her the out they both needed. When she left the room, he sighed and sank into his chair. Give him a motorcycle or a Lego set and he could put it together or take it apart, piece by piece. Blindfolded. Without instructions. Up until Sophia, he would have said he knew his way around a woman. Maybe the toy analogy hadn’t been his best. Maybe? Because there are women out there who want to be compared to the fucking Death Star?
He put his feet up on his desk, crossing his ankles. Sophia was rendering him speechless and stealing his game. He’d never had trouble talking to women. Ever. His mother said he came into the world ready to flirt with her OB. Being the owner of a bar made chatting with women easy. He never gave it any thought. More than that, he’d never been worried about where things would end up. A woman didn’t want to hook up? It didn’t bug him. If he took a woman out to eat and the conversation lagged? No worries: the next date would be better.
With the one woman who suddenly mattered to him, he was talking to her like a bumbling fool and acting like he’d never had a date in his life. Speaking of dates, you might want to ask her on one. Or ask her brother if he’s cool with it.
He dropped his feet. “Damn.” He had absolutely no training ground for the situation he was in. He wanted to more-than-date a good friend’s pregnant sister. And Marcus wasn’t talking to either of them. Which was bullshit. Marcus had sent a text to say the tasting would have to wait but wouldn’t answer Dec’s calls. He didn’t want everything on hold. Everything was tangled like a box of old Christmas lights. Yet, he couldn’t imagine backing away from Sophia. Standing up, he muttered, “This is what they mean by go big or go home, I guess.”
Since he couldn’t go home, he went out to the front of the bar.
Chapter Fifteen
Sophia stopped at the small grocery store that she and her sisters had walked to as children. She needed to stock up on food to repay Declan for his kindness. Declan. Just thinking of his name made a tightness settle in her chest. What the hell was she doing? She’d have to have superhuman strength to deny the pull she felt for him. Even not trusting her instincts fully anymore, she knew this was different than…anything she’d felt before. That made it scarier. Even before the baby. He hadn’t said he was totally on board with a baby, but he wasn’t backing down. How was she supposed to figure that out? Hopefully she wasn’t diving straight into another trap door.
She grabbed a basket and headed for the fruit and vegetable section. Examining apples to choose the best ones did not push Declan from her mind. As she bagged some up, she thought it would likely take a magical spell to remove that man and the way he kissed from anyone’s mind.
Sophia grabbed the ingredients she’d need to make lasagna. She couldn’t even wrap her head around the idea that he wanted to… To what? Date you? Sleep with you? Be your baby’s stand-in daddy?
Stop. It’s just two friends having dinner.
Her shoulders drooped as she stared at the cereal selection. She was a fool. Several times over, and it looked like she might never learn from the mistakes she’d already made. Even though Declan was nothing like her ex or the ones who’d come before him, he wasn’t exactly the poster boy for boyfriend material. Stop painting him into a corner. Even if you can’t see where things go, he’s obviously changed.
“Sophia?”
She turned at the sound of her name and came face to face with her sister Rosemary. Sophia almost dropped the basket. Instead, she had the forethought to set it down before she tackle-hugged her. Tears burned her eyes.
“I heard you were back,” Rosemary said against her hair, her body stiff for a noticeable beat before she hugged her back.
Sophia squeezed her tight. She’d wanted to reach out but wasn’t sure she could handle any more rejection. “I’ve missed you. I wasn’t sure you’d want to see me.”
Rosemary leaned back and dropped her hands. Her smile was careful, her gaze assessing. Rosie’s dark hair was shorter than Viola’s or even her own, but they shared the same eyes, and her sister’s were brimming with concern. Rosie was the soft one of the family. The gentlest and kindest. It made Sophia feel like a jerk.
She should have called when she’d arrived home. Of course, when they’d been kids, all the three girls had done was argue. And fight. Sometimes physically. Their parents would yell at them to knock it off and remind them of the wonders of sisterhood, and the girls would unite in their mockery of their parents’ ability to understand. Sophia smiled at the memories.
“Vi said you’re working for Declan? Papa is so upset, Sophia. You know you always have a place at the restaurant.”
Sophia sighed. I’m fine. Thanks for asking. She knew Rosie didn’t mean anything by not asking. It bothered her to think of her three siblings maybe sharing a group chat about her and how she was letting them down. “I’m sorry Papa is upset. But I’m really happy at Declan’s. I’ve missed you guys so much. You look beautiful. How are the kids?”
Just the mention of kids made Sophia yearn to open
up to her sister. Not like this. Not in a grocery store when you have so many things on your mind.
She knew she was being a coward, but she was so damn tired of being judged. Somehow, she’d smooth things over and then she’d drop the final bomb. Despite where her road had led, she was landing on her feet. With or without their help.
She saw the moment Rosie’s heart pushed aside her hesitation—most likely a side effect of split loyalty. “We’ve missed you, too. All of us. Come for dinner next week,” Rosie said. “My house. Me and Gavin and the kids. They want to see their aunt Sophia on something other than FaceTime.”
Sophia took a deep breath. An olive branch. She wanted to swing from it. “Yes. I’d love to.”
Rosie smiled. “I might go to mass tomorrow in the afternoon. You could come. It’d go a long way with Mama and Papa if you’d attend.”
Sophia sighed. “No.”
Her sister’s back went rigid, and Sophia braced for the argument. She’d always been the one to balk at tradition, expectation. Declan’s words flitted through her brain. She hadn’t done anything wrong. She wouldn’t grovel or bend her life around their will to make up for being a curious kid with a heart that craved adventure and something other than this little town.
“Soon.”
Sophia smiled, so pleased that her sister didn’t push that she wrapped her arms around her once more. “Maybe.”
…
Declan texted to let her know he’d be over soon. It’s not a date. After taking a few minutes to sit and just breathe, letting her thoughts settle, she got to work on the lasagna. Sophia minced the garlic and dropped it into the sizzling oil, inhaling the scent and appreciating the fact that, unlike eggs, it didn’t make her stomach spin dangerously.
Part of her wished she could take a shot with Declan. If she weren’t pregnant, she’d take him up on his offer of… Of what? She’d definitely explore the chemistry between them. The off-the-charts, unexpectedly hot spark that made the air between them crackle. But she was pregnant. With another man’s child. A man who wanted nothing to do with her or the baby.
Everything happening in her life made her feel like she was watching from afar. She felt reasonably good and had so many things she wanted to accomplish to make sure she was ready, it was easy to focus on anything but her pregnancy. Between the confusing feelings for Declan and her family’s distance, she was feeling the reality of it more. She couldn’t date because she was going to have a baby. She couldn’t keep fighting with her family because she wanted them to know her child. She wanted them in her life, dammit. And I want Declan in it, too.
As she added the diced tomatoes to the pan, stirring, her brain tumbled back to the day she’d told Keith. He’d actually offered her money to “take care of it.” Then he’d told her to keep the money and offered more if she signed an agreement promising not to tell his wife. Who the hell fell into a relationship like that and didn’t see the signs? Not having the baby had never entered her mind. She’d always wanted children. This wasn’t how she planned it, but very few things went as she thought they would. She’d always rolled with it, adjusted, and moved forward.
Do not cook angry, dolce bambino. Tears stung Sophia’s eyes at the vivid memory of her grandmother saying those words. When she was younger and she and her father had butted heads too many times in a day, he’d send her to Nonna’s as punishment, thinking his harsh Italian mother would set his daughter straight. Instead, those moments and days were amongst Sophia’s most treasured memories.
Taking the time to steady her breathing helped to steady her hands as well. She was cooking for Declan. Not Keith. She was back in Brockton Point. Whether her family was ready to embrace her or not wasn’t the point. She hadn’t come home only for them. Sophia had come home for herself. For her baby. The irony of wanting to raise her child in the town she’d wanted to escape made her smile. Funny how age offered a bit of perspective.
Glancing around, she was able to feel good about where she’d landed. The carriage house was small, but it would be perfect for her and the baby.
In between boiling the noodles and stirring the sauce, Sophia made checklists of things she wanted and needed to do. She made two lists: a personal and professional. She needed a doctor and wondered if maybe Megan or Stella could recommend one. The professional list was easier to add to. Signage for the speed dating night, going over the marketing plan for the craft beer. Dec hadn’t asked her to do that, but she hoped he’d like her ideas. More than that, she hoped it’d help bridge a gap between both of them and Marcus.
When a knock sounded, she was so into her planning, she’d managed to not drive herself crazy with nerves. But as soon as she opened the door and saw all six foot three of him standing in the doorway, her heart took off like a runner at the starting line.
“It smells incredible in here,” he said. He handed her the clutch of daisies he held, and she wondered if he heard her heart sigh. She couldn’t remember the last time a man had given her flowers. A friend.
She took the flowers, speaking over the lump in her throat. “Thank you for these. Come in.”
She went back to the stove, setting the flowers aside for a moment and tried to calm her breathing. Using the routine task to steady her nerves, Sophia turned the noodles down and went to the sink, running hot water.
She turned back to the stove, ready to grab the pot to drain the noodles, but he nudged her out of the way.
“Let me,” he said.
Sophia glared at him, and she knew he chose to ignore it when a smile tilted his lips.
“It’s gentlemanly, not because you’re pregnant,” he said, his back to her.
“Uh-huh.”
After he’d turned and set the pot back on the stove, he gave her a real smile—the kind that had a total body impact.
He ran a hand down her hair, toying with the ends. He definitely had a thing for her hair. And touching her. “I can’t wait to eat this. And I think you smell almost as good as the sauce.”
If he kept this up, she’d be a puddle at his feet. Maybe it was her hormones or the fact that he made her feel so good when he looked at her like she was all he could see.
“Thank you,” she said, leaning in and catching a hint of his cologne along with the smell that was uniquely, sexily Declan. “So do you.”
They stared at each other a beat. He glanced at the flowers. “Want me to put those in water? Or can I help with dinner?”
“I can do it. There’s some beer in the fridge. Why don’t you grab one?”
He nodded, looking very much like he wanted to say something. He went to the fridge and got his beer, leaning on the counter while she worked. When he glanced down at the bottle and began picking at the label, it occurred to her that he was nervous. She couldn’t help but smile, and, of course, he caught her.
“I like looking at your face,” he said in a low, husky voice that turned off all reason in her brain. “Why are you smiling like that?”
She gestured to the beer bottle as she put the lasagna together. “You’re nervous. You rarely fidget. You’re always so sure and confident.”
Declan set the bottle down, and though he didn’t move, his mere presence seemed to invade her space. The problem with that was she liked it. Too much.
“I’d say that’s normally true. But not with you. You throw me off.”
Sophia bit her lip and waited for him to continue, grateful she had something to do with her hands.
“I want to run something by you,” he said.
She met his gaze. Impulsive by nature, she forced herself to wait him out. The oven dinged to let her know it was preheated.
“I’m going to put this in to cook, and then we can sit in the living room if you want? It’ll be about a half hour.”
He nodded. “You want some ginger ale?”
It shouldn’t feel so heartwarming that he knew her preference. She nodded again, feeling oddly shy with the way he was looking at her. When she lowered her head, he nudge
d her chin up with his fingers. Touching her only there, he leaned down and brushed his mouth over hers. His lips were gone almost immediately after the feather-light kiss. She tried to remind herself of all the reasons they wouldn’t work while she slipped dinner in the oven.
She took an extra minute, knowing she’d need it, to put the flowers in water and fuss with them. They were so simple and pretty. So uncomplicated, unlike everything else in her life.
When she joined him in the living room, she started to leave some space between them, for the sake of her sanity—and her ability to concentrate—but he took her hand as she walked by and pulled her down next to him. It was hard enough not to be consumed with Declan James. But when she was practically in his lap while he looked at her like she was his favorite Star Wars collectible? How was she supposed to fight that? Besides, she was so tired of fighting for everything.
Chapter Sixteen
Declan couldn’t remember the last time he was truly nervous. Not over a woman. He hoped she’d take him seriously even though he planned to present the idea as fun. He still wasn’t sure what he wanted out of all of this, but for a man who’d spent a lifetime around women, having one pull him in so deep after no more than a kiss…he couldn’t just turn his back.
Not that he would. He’d meant what he said from day one: they were friends. And yeah, it sucked that his friendship with her brother was strained, but he couldn’t walk away.
Aside from his friendship with Marc, Declan was nervous about crossing the employee-boss line, but he’d tried to rationalize it in his head so many times in the last week, he’d decided there was a first time for everything.
Something funny happened to his pulse when she settled her eyes on him and stopped moving. For a second, she’d looked like she was going to bolt and put some space between them. He was glad she hadn’t. He’d missed being closer to her. He wanted to be a hell of a lot closer, but just holding her like this, in the quiet of her living room, was doing things to his heart he’d never felt before.
