Page 17 of Stealing Forever (Bridge Point Bears Baseball #1)

“Goddammit,” Declan curses at the exact moment I steer Sailor out of the bathroom.

He’s wrestling the pull-out couch, wiggling the metal frame while he tugs. His grip is so tight that the veins in his forearm bulge while he fights against the resistance it’s giving him.

“What’s wrong?” I ask as I scoop Sailor into my arms and deposit her on the bed. She gets comfortable sitting crisscross-applesauce, grabs the worn copy of The Little Mouse, the Red Ripe Strawberry, and the Big Hungry Bear, and starts flipping through the pages.

Walking over to Declan, he glances up at me and wipes at his brow. “Can’t get it to open.”

“Can I try?” I’m sure I won’t get it either, but maybe it’ll be like a jar of peanut butter. Those always open when the second person gives it a go.

He steps aside, letting go of the metal handle, and grunts. Clearly, he’s frustrated, so I don’t take his sudden flat tone personally.

After a few tugs on my end, it’s easy to conclude I’m not having any more luck than he did. Letting go of the handle, I shrug. “It was worth a shot.”

This earns me a small laugh, and he gives it another try, putting all of his strength behind it.

When it doesn’t budge, he lets out an exasperated breath of air. “Fuck. Of course, the pull-out is broken. Is there anything this hotel can do right? I’m going to call the front desk.”

I’m not sure what they’ll do with no other rooms available, but I keep my mouth shut and join Sailor on the bed, mimicking her posture.

“Yes, this is Declan Lane in room twelve-fifty-six. I’m calling because the sleeper sofa won’t pull out.”

His back is to me, but it’s not difficult to see how tense he is as he listens to the person on the other end of the line.

“Yeah, I’ve tried that. It’s jammed.”

Scooting behind Sailor, I start braiding her damp hair.

“We can’t just get a replacement brought in?” His hand flies into the air. “Look, we’ve already had our hotel room messed up because someone overbooked, and now we can’t get the pull-out bed to open. We need a minimum of two beds, and you put us in a King Suite with a sleeper sofa.”

He looks at it, then his eyes meet mine. Keeping the phone cradled between his head and his shoulder, he fists his hair and shakes his head at me.

Then he hangs up without another word to the person at the front desk.

“There’s nothing they can do,” he grumbles, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m so sorry, Hailey.” His eyes shut, and a guilt settles over me, like I’m trying to take it from him. It’s not his fault, but he feels like it is. And that makes me feel awful, too.

Neither of us will fit on the couch—only Sailor will.

There’s a slight tremble in my hand as I tie off her braid with an elastic and lift my chin, trying to exude far more confidence than I feel.

“It’s fine,” I tell Declan. “We can share the bed.”

His eyes snap open. “What?”

I shrug. “We can share it. It’s not a big deal. Sailor will fit perfectly on the couch, and the bed is a king. Plenty of room for us to each take a side.”

My heart thunders with every word, but I somehow make it through that suggestion with a steady tone.

Declan doesn’t have a chance to respond. He only narrows his eyes as though he can’t quite believe what I said and is trying to fully process it, before there’s a knock at the door.

In three strides, he yanks it open and is greeted by room service. I jump to my feet and rush to my wallet to tip them, but Declan beats me to it, shoving a bill into the guy's hand before sending him on his way.

He practically slams the door, irritation still rolling off him in waves, and pushes the room service cart further into the room.

“Tip was supposed to be on me.” I smile softly, trying to lighten his mood.

“As if I’d let you pay for anything, Hailey.”

“Hey, now. I’m a strong, independent woman,” I tease, and watch him set Sailor’s dinner up at the desk.

“Didn’t say you weren’t, sweetheart. I just said you aren’t paying for anything.”

“So chivalrous,” I quip, pulling the top off the other two serving plates. Our burgers look amazing, and my stomach rumbles in appreciation.

Declan grunts, then walks over to me and swipes a French fry, popping it into his mouth. Before he reaches for his food again, though, he goes and arranges the cushions back on the couch so we have somewhere to sit.

When I finally bite into my burger a few minutes later, I stifle a moan.

It’s divine. I didn’t realize room service could be so delicious, or maybe I’m just that hungry.

Moaning into my burger again, I realize Declan’s eyes are on me.

They dip to my lips before meeting my gaze, and he swallows hard.

“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, Hailey. ”

My head cocks in confusion. “Why would I be uncomfortable?”

“Sleeping in the same bed as me.”

“Oh,” I say quietly, lowering my burger back to the plate. “Declan, we’re both adults. It’s not that big of a deal.”

Wrong. It’s actually a huge deal, but I’m not going to tell him that. I’m going to be mature about this, and in a little while, I’ll crawl under the covers on my own side of the bed. I’ll read my book, then fall asleep like I do every other night.

The only difference is that there will be a man on the other side of the mattress.

A gorgeous, older man I’m feeling way too many things for, but he doesn’t need to know that.

Wanting to prove to him how unbothered I am by the situation—because hot and bothered is not the same as unbothered—I purse my lips, pretending to think critically, then with all the seriousness I can muster, I say, “We can build a pillow wall.”

He nearly chokes on a bite of his burger with a hearty laugh. “Afraid you’ll end up on my side, sweetheart?”

Yes.

“No.” But my blush deceives me. I feel the heat rise up my neck, giving me away.

Declan smirks and keeps eating.

And I can’t stop staring at him as he does.

My thoughts shift to a very, very, inappropriate place. I’ve never thought of eating to be erotic, but the way Declan’s lips curve around the bun, and the way his tongue jets out between his lips after each bite, have me squeezing my legs together.

Suddenly, I’m not so sure if sharing a bed with him is the best idea after all.

I have no doubt he’ll be a perfect gentleman all night—his hesitation to sleep together is written all over his face—but I , on the other hand, should probably take a break from reading the smut I’m in the middle of and switch to a thriller.

Otherwise, I’m not sure I’ll make it through the night keeping my hands off my boss.

Because we’re all in the same room, Declan lets Sailor stay up past her bedtime and watch a movie on her tablet. She’s cozy on the couch, cradling Snug-Bug while she fights against her body's instinct of sleeping, determined to continue watching another Barbie movie.

I’ve just finished taking off my makeup, ready to hop in the shower and crawl into the giant bed to get lost in the high-thread-count linens.

Kneeling on the floor, I flip open my suitcase and rifle through it, finding a fresh pair of panties and my sleep shorts, then dig around for my shirt.

Since we’re only staying two nights, I didn’t feel the need to pack multiple sets, and now that I’ve reached the bottom of my bag, I wish I had.

“Shit,” I mutter under my breath as I push a sundress with embroidered daisies to the side.

“What’s wrong?” Declan asks, not missing a beat. He’s already kicked back on his side of the bed, wearing a white T-shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants that leave little to the imagination.

I’m no better than a man, I swear.

“I guess I forgot my pajama shirt at home.” I toss a few more things to the side and sit back on my heels.

“Need to borrow something?” He’s already kicking his legs over the bed when he asks, and crosses the room to his suitcase.

“It’s fine, I can make do.” But I really can’t. My options are limited to a dress, what I wore today, and a couple of nice blouses that are adorable during the day, but would be horrific to sleep in.

I opt for a soft yellow shirt with ruffled sleeves and a V-neck, then stand back up.

“Don’t be silly. I packed an extra button-down in case the team did a nice dinner one of the nights, but I doubt that’ll happen.” He outstretches his hand with the shirt in his grasp, urging me to take it. “You can sleep in it.”

“Are you sure?” I’m hesitant, but I reach for the shirt.

Our fingers brush as I take it from him, and for a second, it feels like we get lost in each other’s orbit.

“Thank you,” I say a little too breathlessly, and quickly stand. Heat rushes through my body, and internally, I groan, knowing tonight is going to be torture. “I’m going to shower.”

Declan nods. “Sounds good.” Then he returns to the bed and picks up his phone from the nightstand.

The shower does little to ease my nerves, but the hot water feels nice against my skin and helps relieve some of the tension from my shoulders.

The water washes away the after-beach smell that I hate so much.

You know, the smell of salt water and burnt skin?

Yeah, I’m not a beach person, but seeing the joy on Sailor’s face made the excursion worth it.

I take my time drying off and dressing, then stare at myself in the mirror.

Declan’s dress shirt hugs my curves, the fabric taut on my breasts.

It hides as much of me as his sweatpants hide of him, but I remind myself that in just a few seconds, I’ll be in bed, hidden under a plush goose down comforter.

Relief hits me when I walk out of the bathroom and the lights are off, except for the soft glow of Declan’s bedside lamp.

“Sailor fell asleep,” Declan explains as I cross the room, dropping my dirty clothes into the bag beside my suitcase.

“Oh, good, she was exhausted.” Lifting the covers, I slide inside them, then lean over and plug in my phone.

I’m firing up my e-reader and settling in when Declan says, “Thanks for taking her to the beach today.”