Page 30

Chapter 30

Hannah

I lie on the bed, all tangled up in Declan’s arms with my chest moving gently up and down against his. Our breathing is almost perfectly synced, and I can feel his heart softly thudding behind his ribs.

He’s facing me and watching me with an adoring look in his beautiful, gold-flecked eyes that makes my pulse flutter. Smiling, he reaches out to drag a fingertip all the way from my forearm up to my face, where he traces the outline of my jaw.

“Goddamn. If this is going to happen every time, maybe you should text me dirty things more often.”

I laugh. “I definitely should.”

“Oh!” He sits up abruptly, his handsome features lighting up. “I brought something over for you.”

He rolls off the bed and starts rummaging around in his clothes, but I have no idea what he’s doing or what he’s looking for. After a moment, he stands up, holding his hands behind his back as if he’s hiding something in them.

“Close your eyes,” he says as he gets closer.

It feels kind of silly, but I indulge him anyway. I hear his soft footsteps approaching, then he sets something made of a scratchy fabric on my bare stomach.

“Open them.”

My eyes flutter open, and I gaze down at what looks like a large purple thimble. There are two small cut outs on either side. I pick it up and turn it around between my fingers to try to figure out what it is, and Declan chuckles.

“It’s a hat for Ralph. It’s getting cold outside, and we don’t want her catching a cold.”

My jaw drops. I sit up to look him in the eye, holding up the hat. “Wait, you made this?”

He shrugs. “Yeah. Like I told you, I like crocheting. And it seems like she and I were bonding the other day, so I thought a little gift might seal the deal.”

“It’s adorable,” I say, my voice soft.

It’s such a little gesture in the grand scheme of things, but the fact that he’d think to do something like this for my cat—whom I love to death—means a lot to me. And I don’t even think that’s why he did it. He seems genuinely interested in Ralph, which gets to me even more. She’s not exactly the easiest cat to love.

“This is so sweet,” I murmur. “But honestly… I don’t think I’m ever going to get it on her head. She’ll probably rip my hands off just for trying.”

Declan makes a face. “Ouch. Then maybe you’d better let me do it. I’ve got thicker skin.”

“Hey, if you want to risk losing a few fingers, I won’t stop you. But don’t say I didn’t warn you if you end up bloody.”

He flashes a confident grin. “Nah, she likes me in her own way. She won’t hurt me.”

I raise my eyebrows skeptically. “If you say so,” I tell him and pass him the hat.

As if she knew we were talking about her, Ralph suddenly leaps onto the bed, startling me. Declan takes the hat from my hands and tentatively holds it out to Ralph as she creeps toward us. Her little nose plucks at the air around the hat for a few seconds before she presses it into the fabric, and Declan reaches out with his free hand to pet her head.

She pulls back at first, moving to sniff his hand, but eventually she relents and starts rubbing her face on the hat while Declan scratches her head between her ears. This is probably the fastest I’ve ever seen her warm up to someone, and it’s especially surprising because she seems to distrust men the most.

Given how messy and off-limits this thing with Declan is, I don’t know if that’s a good sign—but it’s hard to see it any other way as I watch her blink her eyes shut at him and start rubbing her head on him.

“See? I told you, she likes me,” Declan says with a smile as he keeps petting her, scratching her favorite spots on the sides of her chin.

She isn’t purring yet, but if he keeps it up, I’m sure she will be. While she’s distracted, Declan gets the hat ready, making sure it’s turned right side out. I bite my lip as I watch him start to lower the hat toward her head because I really am worried that she’s going to shred his hand as soon as he tries to put it on her, but she barely even reacts as he slips it on her and pulls her ears through.

When he’s finished, Ralph doesn’t look all that happy. She’s got that adorable but pitiful mix of sadness and grumpiness on her face as she stares back at me like she knows how cute she looks but hates it anyway and is silently begging me to take the hat off.

I can’t help snorting at her, and although she kicks at the hat a few times with one of her back paws, I get the sense she was just trying to adjust one of her ears in it because she stops and turns to look at Declan.

He chuckles and climbs back onto the bed on Ralph’s other side so that she’s between us.

“I knew this was going to look great on you, Ralph, but I think you’re ready for Paris Fashion Week,” he says and reaches out to scratch her under her chin.

She starts to purr loudly and paces in circles beside him like she’s trying to find the perfect spot. Then she curls up beside him, her back resting against his chest, and Declan keeps petting her until her purring is so loud that it fills the room.

I stare at the two of them, unsure whether I should be offended or happy.

“You little traitor,” I say with a laugh and reach to pet her too.

This is totally unusual behavior for her, both the hat and the way that she’s cuddled up next to Declan.

Maybe she’s falling for him too. It isn’t that hard to believe—because she isn’t the only one.

I move closer to the two of them, sandwiching Ralph between us, and we continue petting her until she finally gets bored and jumps out from between us to trot off the bed.

“She has intimacy issues,” I joke, and Declan laughs.

“She probably has the right idea though. I’ve lost all track of how long we’ve been in here. You hungry?”

“Yeah, I could eat.”

“Then I’ll whip something up for us. Come on.” He climbs out of bed, pulling his pants back on.

My clothes are on the floor too, but I spot his shirt first and roll out of bed to grab it and throw it over my head. When he glances over and sees me in it, a beaming smile splits his face.

“As much as I love seeing you naked, I could get used to seeing you wearing that too,” he says as he saunters over to me and pulls me into him to kiss me. I linger in it for a few seconds, feeling every inch of my body responding to his kiss and touch, but pull back before we’re tempted to tumble back into bed. Declan smirks. “Right. We’ve got dinner to make.”

He takes my hand in his and walks me out to the kitchen where he pulls out one of the bar stools tucked under the island. He pats it. “Have a seat. I’ll take care of the food.”

“Are you sure you don’t want any help?”

“I appreciate it, but I’m good,” he says and makes his way to the fridge to check what I have on hand. I’m more than a little embarrassed to admit that it isn’t much, but I’m so busy with school and my yoga classes that I rarely have time to cook anything. I usually don’t buy much for the same reason because it all ends up going bad before I ever have the chance to cook it.

“Kind of slim pickings, isn’t it?” Declan asks with his head still in the fridge as he pushes things around looking for anything he can use.

“Yeah, it’s probably obvious, but I don’t cook much.”

“I kind of thought that might be the case. But that’s alright. I’m sure I can come up with something,” he says and walks over to the small pantry on the other side of the kitchen to open it. It’s even barer than my fridge is. I use it so infrequently that part of me is surprised bats didn’t fly out. “Aha, here we go. Can’t beat a simple spaghetti.” He reaches for the sole box of spaghetti noodles on the shelf and closes the door behind himself.

“But I don’t have any pasta sauce. Or at least not that I know of.”

Declan breaks open the box of noodles to check they haven’t gone stale, but he must be satisfied with them because he smiles and walks them over to the stove.

“No, but you do have these tomatoes that are starting to turn, so I think I can work with that,” he says and points at two tomatoes I have sitting on the windowsill above the sink. One of my yoga students brought them to me from their garden, and I’ve been meaning to use them to make some BLTs, but it just never happened.

“Good thinking.”

Declan starts opening cabinets, looking for a knife and cutting board, so I direct him where to find things then listen to the soft sound of his knife against the cutting board as he dices the tomatoes. “You have any garlic or onion hiding in here anywhere?”

“No, but I have garlic powder and onion flakes in the spice rack.”

He smirks. “That’ll have to do.”

He pulls a pan from the rack hanging on the wall and sets it on the stove, then picks up the olive oil dispenser next to it to coat the pan while it heats. When it’s ready, he uses his knife to slide the tomato chunks into the pan, and they sizzle to life. He adds good amounts of garlic powder and onion flakes, fills up a pot with water and starts it boiling, then turns to me and leans against the counter while he has a break.

“So I got an offer to give a speech at one of the high schools here,” he says. “Bear River High.”

“What, really? That’s amazing. What do they want you to talk about?”

“I think they just want me to give something motivational. You know, show the kids they can do anything if they put their minds to it. But I don’t really want to do it.”

That surprises me because it sounds exactly like the kind of thing he’d enjoy and be good at. “Why not?”

Declan laughs and shakes his head. “I fucking suck at public speaking thanks to my dyslexia. I don’t know how I’m supposed to inspire these kids by struggling to read a speech I wrote,” he says and my heart clenches in my chest. I hate hearing him talk about himself like this.

“That’s not true. You’re amazing. I mean, you’re the newest player on the best team in the NHL. That’s not nothing.”

Declan stares at me for a second like he wants to say something smart back, but the words won’t come. Instead, he turns to stir the sizzling tomatoes and check on the water. I don’t want to press him if he’s feeling uncomfortable, so I decide to change the subject.

“You’re not the only one getting extra work. The owner of the yoga studio, Patricia, wants me to take on even more classes, but there’s no way I can. I’m way too busy with school.”

“Then you should tell her that. Or maybe make a compromise that you’ll do more when the semester is over?”

“That’s not a bad idea, but I don’t know if she’ll go for it. Ugh, I wish I could just open up my own studio, then I wouldn’t have to worry about any of this. I could just do classes at times that work for me.”

Even as the words come out of my mouth, I feel silly for saying them. Whatever else happens for me, owning a yoga business isn’t likely to be in my future. It’s not like a yoga business is going to pay anywhere near as much as being a lawyer will. But even if that wasn’t the case, starting a business feels so far away, so out of reach.

“I mean, I know having my own business would be harder than just teaching classes. But I don’t have the business acumen for it anyway, so it’s a moot point.”

Declan turns away from the stove again, looking at me with a compassionate expression. “I don’t believe that for a second. You’re perfect. You can do anything you put your mind to.”

“Is that one of the lines from your speech?” I tease, and Declan smirks.

“No, but it’s a pretty good one. Maybe I should write that down for later,” he says, his smile widening as he crosses the kitchen to stop at my chair. “But seriously, I mean it. I’ve seen how many people sign up for your classes, so if you really wanted to start your own business, I bet it would do well.”

My insides feel like they’re turning to mush at his words, but I try my best not to let it get to me too much or show on my face. “You know, I could say the same thing about you. You’re just convincing yourself you can’t do something.”

Declan taps my nose with his finger. “Well, would you look at that? Seems like we have yet another thing in common,” he says and leans closer to me, his face hovering just above mine. My heart starts racing in my chest, and when he puts his arms around me to kiss me, I feel the rest of my body catch fire.

The tomatoes sizzle on the stove, almost as loud as the desire sizzling inside me, but even Declan doesn’t seem to care about the food. He spins my chair around until my legs are straddling him, and even though he’s wearing pants again, I can feel how hard he is through them.

And when he abruptly lifts me off the chair into his arms and sets me down on the counter with his cock pressed against my pussy, I realize there’s only one thing that’s going to satisfy my appetite.

Him.