Page 30 of Free to Judge (Amaryllis Heritage #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

He appears inside my home without warning. I’m curled up on the couch working on a brief I need to file in Connecticut Superior Court to protect Amaryllis Events against a bride who is trying to sue us over the fact she walked in on her fiancé cheating on her with her maid of honor.

Really, it takes all kinds.

When I look up, Declan’s there with his hands fisted at his side. I press my hand against my heart. “Jesus. You scared the crap out of me!”

“You should be scared.” His voice is low and tight like he’s holding back from shouting. “You told your father you were planning on telling your mother if he didn’t? What the hell, Kalie? Are you trying to get your family hurt?”

I fling my laptop aside and surge to my feet.

“You don’t get it, do you? You may be buried up to your eyeballs in this op.

You may be able to snap your fingers and have people’s sentences set aside in a second.

You may be able to dictate law and order between chop houses, strip clubs, bodegas or whatever the hell else the Byrnes and Tiberis have you drafting up legal documentation for this week, but you don’t get to control me.

Nor do you get a say when it pertains to my family. ”

He sends an infuriated glare in my direction before wearing a path back and forth in my carpet. “You don’t appreciate who your father’s dealing with.”

“He explained it to me.”

Ignoring my response, he plows on, “The minute your mother starts asking questions, the moment anyone in your family does—”

“They’re smarter than that. I’m smarter than that. You think keeping all of this a secret is the best way to handle this?”

“It isn’t your choice!”

“It’s my life! And that’s what I told my father to talk to my mother about.”

“You can’t do that without…”

“I can.”

He walks over to my couch and grabs a pillow. Holding it to his face, he screams into it, releasing days, months, years of fury. When he finally pulls it away, his face is awash with tears. I approach him, but he steps back. “No.”

I refuse to let him wound me. “Then walk away, Declan. Walk away from me if you don’t want me to care. As for me? It’s too late for that.”

He completely misunderstands. “You’re damn right I want to get away from them!”

“Why?” I challenge.

“I don’t want them near you!” he shouts.

“You don’t want them near me? Why is that so important to you?”

He freezes mid-pace. His head turns slowly, as if it’s about to start spiraling counterclockwise like The Exorcist. Then, without warning, his shoulders slump in defeat. “Kalie, what will I do if something happens to you?”

I open my mouth, but no sound comes out.

Nothing, because what can I say?

Instead, it’s Declan’s words that cause a seismic rift to open between us when he declares, “I can’t do this between us right now.”

Stepping back, I clench my fingers into a fist. “What? This? Us?”

“Yes. To all of it.” His jaw clenches. “I can’t have a bunch of civilians screwing up what I’ve worked so hard for.”

His words infuriate me. “I’m giving you some grace. Despite knowing some of my family, you don’t know all of us.”

“I know enough from the stories I’ve heard.”

I try to explain differently “You don’t get it. If the family finds out I knew and didn’t say anything, they’ll never forgive me. That’s not who we are. We shoulder burdens together.”

“This isn’t just about your family. This is about drawing a line with people who don’t have a need to know.”

“They do.”

“They don’t.”

My voice doesn’t waver. “We really do. Why? So that this time, instead of being caught off guard, we’ll be prepared. This time we won’t be blindsided, and we’ll have people we trust at our backs.”

He stares deep into my eyes, then finally admits, “I don’t know how to protect you from this.”

“You don’t have to,” I whisper, my throat tight. “That’s not your job.”

He steps closer, our bodies brushing against one another. “Then why does it feel like it is?”

I don’t back away. Neither does he. Silence stretches between us again, heavy and thick. When Declan finally speaks, his voice is like gravel—worn down, stripped bare. “Why am I dreaming of you?”

His words cause my lips to part on a gasp. But he’s not done. “I dream of you, and when I do, for the first time in years, I sleep.”

My chest feels like it does when I’m entering the stadium after a medal race—like I’m sucking in air because I’m in an emotional chokehold. I can’t say anything because I’m afraid anything I’ll say will be wrong.

He lifts his hand and brushes his fingers against my cheek. “If you got hurt…”

“I won’t.”

“You don’t know that.” His voice rasps against my nerve endings. He shakes his head. “The man I’ve needed to become isn’t worthy of someone like you.”

“Isn’t that for me to decide?”

His fingers tangle in my hair even as his eyes bore into mine. In them I see regret, guilt, want. Then, his lids droop and when he lifts his gaze to mine, there’s something else there.

Surrender.

I lift my chin, my pulse hammering, and lay my free hand against his chest. “Declan. Are you yelling at me because you’re angry or because you’re scared?”

“Both,” he rasps. His hands slide out of my hair before they come up to cup my face. His fingers brush under my cheekbones until they rest gently against my jaw.

I lean in. Our breath mingles together.

“You’re not the only one scared.”

With that admission, he slides one hand into my hair and wraps the other around my waist. Pulling me up, he stares deep into my eyes as his head dips. My heart goes into overdrive. My breathing becomes ragged as I determine if he wants this—me.

When his lips touch mine, I willingly accept them.

It isn’t soft. It isn’t slow. It’s raw, desperate, and consuming.

It’s every emotion Declan’s been holding inside.

They reveal the inner storm that Declan has been fighting.

His lips are proof that the gods want us to absorb the strength of lightning and thunder and remain standing.

I return his kiss with a hunger I never expected existed. I wrap my arms around his neck, drowning with the pleasure he floods my system with. Declan’s energy is overwhelming and the thought of resistance is nonexistent.

Not that I would. I’ve never wanted a man like this. His kiss causes a flood of lust to rush through my body, causing liquid heat to pool at the apex of my legs. It’s taking everything inside of me not to climb him like a tree and demand he give me more.

That he gives me everything.

His hands roam my back, pressing my hips against his rock hardness. I let out a low moan that I can’t keep in.

Which turns out to be a mistake. A huge one.

He freezes, his lips still pressed against mine. Slowly, almost reverently, he releases me. Then he steps back—one, two, three steps. I’m not certain if it’s the silence or the physical distance Declan places between us that makes my soul ache.

Then I realize it’s neither when he takes a sledgehammer to my heart. “This can’t happen again.”

My body stiffens. “No? It sure felt like it could when you had your tongue…”

“Kalie!” he snaps.

I back away before flopping back on the couch. Giving him the once-over, I notice his dick is impressive behind his dress slacks. Licking my lips to keep the drool in place, I murmur, “I wasn’t the one who kissed you first.”

“Let’s just chalk it up to bad judgment.”

I snort out a laugh. “Every girl’s dream.”

His brow scrunches together in confusion, so I educate him. “To be called someone’s ‘bad judgment’ after the single hottest kiss of their life.”

His countenance softens. Yeah, buddy. I don’t think so. I look down and pick at my nail polish. “But don’t worry about it. I’ll do a true comparison after my next date.”

Ooh, he doesn’t like that. That is if the way the flash of heat in his cheekbones is any indicator. Too bad, so sad. I fake a yawn. “If you’re done lecturing me about my family and my ability to kiss, you can see yourself out.”

He glares at me. “This isn’t a game, Kalie. I shouldn’t have gone there.”

“Maybe. But since you didn’t break a law, I don’t need to report either of us. After all, there’s no sanction against two consenting adults kissing.”

“I’m leaving.”

I wiggle my fingers at him. He starts to slip out the back slider when I call out, “Let’s see who initiates our second kiss before you call it a mistake.”

It isn’t until after he slams the slider that I let out a frustrated sigh. My world seems to be tilting on its axis. But while the lawyer in me wants to dot every I and cross every T, the woman in me knows I don’t need all the answers right now.

I just need a chance.

Hopefully, he’s willing to give us one of those.