Page 12

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Cash

After Declan finished his video chat with his family, I followed him to the attached garage, where he kept his aunt’s 1962 Ford F150 pickup truck.

I ran a hand over the faded pale blue body, admiring the curves of the antique beauty. The cab was smaller than modern trucks, more rounded in design. Chrome ran across the front of the grill, surrounding each pair of headlights. It was pretty damn sweet.

An antique truck like this would most likely never survive daily driving, but in a town like Swallow Cove, you didn’t need to put all that many miles on a vehicle.

“Hop in,” Declan said, reaching for his door handle.

The door stuck, and he had to try a second time, grunting as he tugged it open. I reached for my door, ready for a battle, but it swung open easily.

“Don’t say a word,” Declan said as I slid onto the bench seat beside him. “It’s old and finnicky, but it gets the job done.”

“Hey, I think it’s cool,” I said. “I’m a little surprised you haven’t bought something newer, though.”

I’d always seen Declan as a little uptight. The kind of guy who’d take his car in for oil changes like clockwork. Who’d spend days researching the gas mileage and features before choosing a car to buy.

“I don’t drive all that much,” Declan said. “When I do, it’s usually because I need to haul something. The truck is handy.” He paused. “Besides, I learned to drive on this truck.”

“No kidding?”

Declan turned the key, and the engine rumbled to life. “Yep. I lived here for a year as a teenager.”

“How did I not know this?”

Declan worked the shifter, putting us into reverse.

“It was a long time ago.” He sent me a pointed look. “High school isn’t a recent memory for me.”

“It feels like a lifetime for me.”

“It sure does,” he agreed.

Declan hit the clutch with his left foot and seamlessly shifted into first, taking us down the bumpy path to the main road. From there, it was a few miles of curvy blacktop inland.

The store’s big red sign was visible as we rounded a corner and came up on the far side of The Grocery Spot—aka The G-Spot, as we had coined it. Dyck’s Hard , it read. The “ware” had faded away sometime ago, and the owner, Ray Dyck, said everyone found it so entertaining he decided to leave it. So now, we shopped at Dyck’s Hard when we needed tools or appliances.

Or wood.

Hard wood, that is.

I snickered as we entered through the sliding doors. Declan sighed. “You’re such a child.”

“Guilty.” I nudged him. “But it’s funny. Admit it.”

“Maybe the first time I saw it.”

“And the second and the third,” I teased.

“But not the twentieth,” he said firmly.

His lips twitched.

“Aha! I saw that.”

“Saw what?” he asked, pretending ignorance as he grabbed one of the utility carts with a big platform on the bottom and a small tray on top.

I poked the corner of his mouth. “Your lips twitched up. You were totally smiling.”

“That’s not a smile.”

“For you, it is.” I traced his lips with the tip of my finger. “It’s small and it’s almost hidden, but I see it.”

Our eyes met and held. Declan swallowed hard and stepped back. My hand fell away from his mouth.

“Sorry,” I said. “I was just?—”

“Being you,” he said. “Come on, let’s go find what we need. You have the list?”

“Yep.” I pulled my phone out of my pocket and opened the list we’d made for our first shopping trip. “We can check out the appliances first, since you’ll probably need to order what you want?”

Declan nodded. “Lead the way.”

Dyck’s didn’t have the large supply that a big-city store would, but he had several reasonable models of refrigerators, stoves, and dishwashers. Declan proved my theory about him right when he spent nearly an hour going over the pros and cons of every feature each model had.

I was gonna throttle him if I hung around to watch, so I slipped away to complete some other parts of the shopping trip. I wanted to get some wood cut to replace the rotten boards in The Roost’s floor. I’d need a hand sander and sandpaper, as well.

I’d wait on the sheetrock until I could talk to Gray, one of the new boaters at the resort. He’d helped with a few house remodels before taking the job with Swallow Adventures, and I was hoping to pick his brain—and hopefully get his help with a few of these projects.

I got what I needed and was on to the painting supplies aisle when I spotted Danny Wray on his tiptoes, stretching to reach the paint pans on a higher shelf. I left the cart at the end of the aisle and sidled up alongside him.

“Hey, shorty. Need some help?”

Danny sent me a glare that surprised me. “No.”

I started to raise my arm. “I can?—”

Danny pushed my arm down, hissing, “You’re ruining my plan. Just move along unless you want to be my consolation prize.”

Consolation prize?

I followed Danny’s far-from-subtle head nod toward the end of the aisle. A large, hulking man was studying packets of hardware a few feet away. His skin was smooth and dark, standing out in our whitewashed Ozarks community. But hot damn, he was gorgeous.

“Who is that?” I whispered.

“My dream man,” Danny said. “He works at the new Hot Buns Bakery.”

“Ahhh.” I’d only seen the woman who ran the front of the shop. “And Jasmine is…”

“His sister, obviously,” Danny said. “Now get out of here!”

Danny gave me a little push, then swatted my ass when I took too long to get moving.

“Okay, I’m going!” I whirled toward the end of the aisle with a laugh, right into a glowering Declan, who was standing by our cart, watching me with narrowed eyes.

“Hey, Dec. Figure out what you want yet?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” he said sharply.

“The appliances…” I winced. “Sorry for ditching you. I just couldn’t take all the analysis. I’m more the type of guy who sees what he wants and just goes for it.”

“Clearly,” he muttered, gaze shifting over my shoulder. “Are you and Danny…”

He trailed off.

I blinked at him, lost. His gaze focused on something behind me. I looked back to see the hot baker pulling down a paint pan for Danny, who was fluttering his lashes and making the big guy blush. Surely, Declan didn’t think…

“Me and Danny together?” I barked a laugh as I turned back to Declan. “No, of course not.”

“I don’t mean a relationship. I know you don’t do those.”

“I don’t?”

“I just meant, you know…hooking up?”

I tilted my head, trying to understand this baffling man. He said he didn’t want to date me because he couldn’t have the intimate relationship I would want. But he also seemed upset anytime he thought I was involved with someone else.

“No, Declan. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t hook up with people everywhere I go.”

“I didn’t mean?—”

I grasped his jaw, and strangely, he leaned into the touch, as if he craved more. I stroked my thumb along his cheek, dragging it over prickly stubble. “There’s only one man I’m interested in.”

He wet his lips. “I’m leaving though. And I can’t…”

“I know.” I dropped my hand. “Doesn’t mean I can magically move on as if my feelings for you never existed.”

“Feelings? It’s more than attraction?”

I rolled my eyes. “Of course it is, Declan. You’re totally infuriating!”

He huffed a laugh. “I’m aware.” He looked a little embarrassed. “And it’s really none of my business who you sleep with. You’re free to hook up with anyone you want.”

“Did it ever occur to you, Declan, that I might want more than sex?”

He blinked. “Uh, well…”

“I know you’re ace, and maybe it seems like the rest of us are just sex-crazed fools looking to get off. But I want a relationship too. I want love and connection. Laughter and hugs and cuddles on the couch. All that good stuff, you know?”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “You’re absolutely right. I assumed—maybe unfairly—that sex was the most important thing to you. I mean, you’ve had a lot of it.”

I started pushing the cart toward check-out, and he fell into step beside me.

“ Had being the operative word, Dec. I haven’t been having much of it at all for months now.”

“No?”

“Nope. Just me and my hand.”

“Oh.” He cleared his throat. “Uh, well, maybe I misjudged you. I admit it.”

“That’s okay. I sort of asked for it after all those visits to the B&B last year. I was…going through something, but I’m sorry it took me so long to understand why it bothered you.”

“Why do you think it bothered me?”

I sent him a smile. “Because, Declan, you’re totally into me.”

He started to sputter out a denial, and I laughed and left him behind as I rolled the cart into the line. Declan’s reaction today had told me something important. He might be planning to leave, and he might be unsure that I was relationship material, but Declan Sullivan liked me.

Hell, maybe he even more than liked me.

What exactly that meant to a guy on the ace spectrum? I wasn’t quite sure. But I intended to find out.