Page 69 of Free to Judge

But I’m too fucking selfish for all that, despite knowing the trouble I’m certain to bring to her door if I walk through it again.

I pull out the burner phone I’ve reserved for texting her and scroll through messages. We each are so careful in how we speak to one another. It’s just another reminder of how dangerous it is to be near her.

The problem now is since I’ve been exposed to her, I can’t stay away. That is what makes this the worst decision. I’m a threat, and she doesn’t even realize it simply because I can drag blood to her doorstep just by breathing her same air.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Why I’mnervous about him coming over this time when he’s basically committed B&E every other time, I’m uncertain. Maybe it’s because this time, I’m the one who has extended the invitation. Me. Not him intruding on my space.

If I’m being honest with myself, I’ve known we’d end up right back here hashing things out since he took a sledgehammer tomy heart in the middle of my office. A pulse of anger burns inside of me. See? That’s right. You’ve been waiting for this confrontation for weeks.

So, game on, girlfriend.

Maybe it’s because, now that it’s here, I’m second guessing myself since Jon came to my office. All day I’ve been considering his words and the life Declan has been leading for the last however many years. I’m flip-flopping between wrapping my hands around his neck and choking him for his detour to the town of assholery and wrapping my arms around him and just holding him as close as I can.

Jon’s words sobered me in a way I didn’t want to look at because they forced me to consider how much Declan has slipped under my skin without my noticing.

Sitting down on the couch, I lean forward and place my head in my hands when I consider what kind of impact the life he’s leading could have on mine. It’s terrifying in a way I’ve never really considered. When my father met my mother, he was past the hands-on aspect of the undercover agent game, but Declan is neck-deep in it.

Am I strong enough to stand by his side as he dives into the murky depths, risking his life again and again?

What Jon may not realize is that my feelings for Declan have never been clear—not since that first meeting all those years ago. There are so many questions I have to ask myself.

What does he want?

What do I want knowing I could lose him?

All these questions float through my head, but they’re answered with one I can’t quite push aside—should I even try if my heart’s going to end up broken?

It takes less than a nanosecond for the answer. Even if the answer to that is yes, I have to see where this goes.

When I sent him the text earlier, something inside me broke that I hadn’t heard from him for weeks. But when I saw how quickly he replied, my heart flipped in my chest. “Damn you, Declan Conian.”

I hear his voice at the same time I hear the soft tap of his knuckles against the drywall, causing my head to snap up. “Not sure if you meant for me to hear that.”

My breath catches in my throat as he greets me with a cautious smile. “Hey, firebrand.”

“Hey, yourself.” I stand and gesture for him to join me. “Take a seat.”

He does so hesitantly, like he’s waiting for me to attack him—either verbally or physically. Which, if I’m being honest with myself, is a pretty realistic expectation on his part. I remain standing, staring down at him while gathering my thoughts when he speaks. “I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

I blink.

“For not giving you the benefit of the doubt.”

“What else are you sorry for?”

“For not letting you speak?”

“That sounds like a question, counselor. Rephrase.”

His luscious lips curve. “I acted like a jackass.”

“Damn right, you did.” I cross my arms, but my resolve softens at his words.

“Should the court object to foul language,” he teases me back.

I blink in shock. “Declan, did you just make a joke?”