Page 6 of Stealing Forever (Bridge Point Bears Baseball #1)

“I like to read,” I continue, shrugging, as I think about what else. “Spending time with family and friends before I moved away. Believe it or not, I’m actually a pretty good baker.”

“Oh, I believe it. You made cookies, remember?” He smirks, and it sends a spark through my body that ignites instantly under his stare.

A little swoop in my belly tells me the playful glint in his eye is absolutely intentional, and he’s remembering what I said last week.

Is he…flirting?

I think so.

It’s been so long since a man flirted with me, that I take a long drink of my sparkling water, averting my eyes.

It’s easy to take the focus off him and shift my attention to Sailor, who chose the seat next to me.

She’s done well with everything on her plate, but I take the fork from her tiny hand and move everything into tight piles so it’s easier for her to scoop her remaining bites.

I can feel Declan watching us, and without looking at him, I put the ball back in his court, my tone playful. “What do you like to do for fun?”

From my peripheral, he shifts in his seat, leaning back with his arms folded over his chest and a smirk on his face.

Once I’m done tending to his daughter, I sneak a glance.

“Well, these days I don’t have much time for myself. If my focus isn’t on the team, it’s on Sailor.”

“What about before adult life took over?”

“I played a lot of ball.”

My nose scrunches at the clear-cut answer, and I quirk a brow, draping my arm over the back of Sailor’s chair. My face must reflect my thought of wanting more of an answer than he just gave me. I want more of his flirtatiousness, in fact I’m craving it now, and I want to get to know him .

Declan sighs, rubbing his trimmed beard as he fights a smile. “Fine. you want to know what I really enjoy but haven’t had the time lately to do?”

“Let me guess. Something criminal?” My voice is dry as I tease him.

“You caught me.” He laughs, and I swear I feel the vibration of it deep in my core. I catch myself leaning forward, my elbow pressing against the table.

“My idea of a fun Saturday afternoon used to be volunteering at the local animal shelter.”

For a brief moment I wonder if I heard him correctly.

Immediately my mind conjures an image of Declan sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of a dog’s kennel at the shelter, with cats and dogs smothering him with love.

Inside I’m giddy and swooning over this man, but I can’t make an ass out of myself in front of him again, so I force myself to remain cool as a cucumber.

And on the exterior, I simply smile. “Do you like animals?”

The idiotic question rolls off my tongue before I can stop it. Clearly, my brain has stopped functioning. Obviously, he likes animals, Hailey.

“Not really, it was part of my court-ordered community service requirements.” He smirks, teasing me as my cheeks grow pink. “I love animals. I just don’t have time to own one.”

“What’s your favorite kind of animal?”

We sneak in bites of our dinner, engaging between content moments where we’re simply eating.

“I’m a big dog person, the bigger the better. Although, there’s something about a senior cat that’s hard to resist. They used to be my favorite to visit at the shelter. On the outside they’re grumpy, and standoffish, but gain their trust and they turn into complete puddles of purring mush.”

“Stop! So sweet. You should adopt one, Declan. I’ll help you take care of it.”

“You’d do that?”

“Of course! Cats are pretty low maintenance, anyway. I wouldn’t mind.”

“I’ll take that into consideration.” Declan pauses, staring at me quietly. His eyes search mine so deeply, it seizes the breath from my lungs. Then, his next question wipes the smile right off my face. “So, what types of books do you read?”

How do I explain to him that my favorite type of books are the ones where the heroine gets railed at least forty percent of the book—I’m talking filthy, explicit smut—and that shadow daddies make me wish men in books weren’t fictional.

I swear, all men—real life and otherwise—should be written by women. “Uhh, romance.”

“You’re blushing,” he observes. His eyes narrow playfully as he props his elbow on the back of the chair, getting comfortable.

But I feel embarrassment creeping back in and I’m ready to hightail it out of here.

“Am I?” Nervous laughter bubbles up. “Anyway, thanks for the invitation to dinner. I was a little surprised.”

“It was overdue,” he rasps, his voice going gravelly as he drums his fingers against the table.

“Well, it’s appreciated.” I hold my fork with another bite up in the air near my mouth. “Your meat is delicious. Now I’m gonna want it all the time.”

Oh, fuck my life, not again.

His eyebrow skyrockets up his forehead as my words resonate, but this time he doesn’t laugh or crack a smile. Instead, he leans forward. “Maybe we can strike a deal then.”

All the air squeezes from my lungs, and thundering doesn’t even begin to describe what my heart is doing. It’s morphed into a ping pong ball in my chest, and a sheen of sweat lines my forehead.

“Daddy, I’m all done,” Sailor interrupts, but Declan keeps his attention focused on me.

“Okay, baby, go play.”

Moments tick by slowly, the second hand on the clock on the wall seemingly the only noise in the room.

Sliding from her chair, Sailor skips out of the kitchen, leaving us alone.

The second she’s out of earshot, Declan resumes.

“Like I was saying. Maybe we can strike a deal. You do a lot around here. What if I prep the meat for meals, as time allows on the weekends, and you just handle the side dishes for a while?” He takes a bite, like he didn’t just make me think this conversation was about to head in a completely different direction.

Despite the innocence of his suggestion, the underlying flirtatiousness—and alternate version my mind came up with—sends a zing of arousal straight to my core.

I swallow thickly, nodding. “That sounds like a deal.”

I’m already doing all of the cooking—that was negotiated within my salary, knowing his hours would be unpredictable. It was important to him that Sailor didn’t have leftovers every single night. And I really don’t mind. A girl’s gotta eat too.

“Great. So, what else should I know about you, Hailey?”

Well, for starters my pulse is through the roof because of you, sir.

“There’s really not that much to tell, and I’m horrible at talking about myself. I’m much better with rapid fire questions.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Play twenty questions?”

“Sure,” I agree. “But only if I get to ask some, too.”

“That’s only fair. Favorite color?” His first question is so basic, I smirk.

“Easy. Yellow. You?”

“Red.” His eyes drift to my hair, and my breath catches. “All-time favorite movie?”

I don’t hesitate. “ The Wizard of Oz . Favorite type of music?”

“Country, or rap.”

Interesting. I smile, my pulse buzzing with delight. “Those are two very different genres.”

“They both speak to the soul.” There’s a hint of a smile pulling at the corner of his lips. “What about you? Favorite type of music?”

“Whatever is on the radio,” I quip.

“There’s many different stations.”

“You know! The mainstream stuff. Pop music.”

Wrinkling his nose, he folds his arms over his chest and leans back in his chair. “Ah, a Swifty?”

I lift my shoulders in a playful shrug. “A little. Favorite breakfast food?”

“Bacon and eggs.” He leans forward with his elbows on the table again, and having his sole focus on me spikes my nerves. He’s just so dang gorgeous. “What’s one of your bucket list items?”

“To stay in an over the water bungalow in Tahiti.” There’s no hesitation—it’s my number one bucket list goal.

His eyes twinkle, looking mischievous for a moment. “That’s a good one. I heard it’s beautiful there.”

“Do you travel often?”

“For the team, yes, but for pleasure? Not much.”

“Well, you’ll have to plan more family vacations.” I laugh, even though my thoughts linger on the word family .

Where is Sailor's mom? I don’t dare ask the question burning inside me.

Declan doesn’t mirror my playfulness, and instead, I feel the shift in his demeanor as it shifts. He takes the last bite on his plate and stands abruptly, the back of his thighs pushing the chair behind him in a shrill scuff of wood against wood.

Grasping the neck of his beer bottle, he gives it a little shake. “You sure I can’t offer you a better drink than water? I have a bottle of white zin in the fridge, too.”

Game of twenty questions done, then, I guess. Gotcha . My teeth sink into my bottom lip. Do I want a drink? “I wouldn’t want to overstay…”

He barks a laugh. “Sweetheart, at this point you live here more than I do. Overstaying shouldn’t even be a thought in your mind.”

His words make my heart flutter, like a newly emerged monarch. Looking down at the nearly empty glass of sparkling water, I swirl what’s left, barely carbonated.

My logical, professional side screams bad idea , the words flashing like a neon sign flickering with burnout, while my curious, lustful little hussy side is eager to spend more time with the hot single dad.

Bad.

Idea.

Still, I feel the grin as it radiates through my cheeks and I nod in agreement. “Yeah. A drink sounds great.”

Maybe since I already ate the alcohol won’t go to my head.

For a moment, Declan looks surprised I’ve said yes again, but then he stacks my plate onto his. “What’ll it be?”

“I’ll take a glass of wine if you don’t mind opening the bottle.”

“Not at all. I’d join you, but I’ll stick to beer tonight.” He saunters over to the sink, placing our dishes in before pouring my drink. When he hands me the stemless wine glass, our fingers brush, and for a moment it’s like time stops.

That seems to happen a lot when he’s around.

For a second, I forget how to breathe.

Our lingering stare shatters when Sailor appears at my side, holding Snug-Bug as she audibly yawns.

Wrapping my arms around Sailor's small waist, I lift her to my lap, both for my own distraction and because she’s swaying slightly. “Tired?” She immediately leans into my chest, nodding against it.

The clock shows it’s after seven, which is still a little early for bedtime, but she had a big day with lots of sun and fresh air. In the morning we ran errands and played at the park, and I’m sure she was playing in the backyard while I was gone.

“I’ll take you upstairs after I put the food away, Sail.” Declan’s husky voice pulls my attention back to him like a magnet.

“I can get her ready for bed.” With Sailor in my arms, I stand, adjusting her into an easier hold. She wraps around me like a spider monkey, resting her head on my shoulder as her thumb slips into her mouth. I don’t have to look to know her eyes are already closed.

“You don’t have to, you’re not?—“

“I want to do her routine with her, Declan. I got this, don’t stress.

” And I mean it. It took half a second for me to fall in love with Sailor.

If he asked me to, I’d probably agree to work for free, just to help him out.

I care . Probably more than I should considering I’m just temporary in their lives.

At any point Declan could meet someone who falls perfectly into the role of stepmom , or maybe Sailor's actual mom could come back into the picture.

Both thoughts make my stomach roil with every step I take, climbing the stairs to the second story.

As I reach the landing, an image as clear as a snapshot flashes through my mind of Declan and I, each holding one of Sailor's hands as we walk through a park, letting her swing between us while we lift her higher. It’s the epitome of a candid family portrait, and is as jarring as it is exhilarating.

How did I go from staying for a drink to these wild thoughts?

You need to get laid, Hailey , my sister’s voice rings through my ears. It’s exactly what she’d say if I were to call her right now. She’d laugh and chastise me, insisting that my wayward imagination is my fault because I’m the one who saw how gorgeous Declan Lane was and still took the job.

Just because someone is attractive doesn’t mean anything, right? I’ve been good and kept my thoughts, and hands , to myself.

Plus, he doesn’t even like me. The newfound flirting is a fluke. A one-off.

Just like the vision my mind just conjoined as I stare at the empty tub, of a smaller toddler splashing with Sailor as I get them both clean and ready for bed.

Shaking my head, I snap myself out of lala-land and focus on caring for Sailor.

That’s what I need to do right now. Not fall down this rabbit hole of delusion.

Picturing a whole ass life with the man I nanny for was not on my bingo card this year. But now, as I draw Sailor a bath filled with her favorite bubbles and her Scuba Barbie, more flashes of what could be overtake my thoughts.

And I… I think I like what I see.