Page 78 of The Havenport Collection

Astrid

I was feeling better. The party last night had been fun, and Declan and I seemed to get over the weirdness between us.

I was worried that it would be awkward, but it wasn’t.

We had fun together, despite the lingering sexual tension.

I enjoyed being around him. His quiet strength and his steady countenance calmed me.

I didn’t feel the need to fill silences with him. We enjoyed them together.

But I was still feeling uneasy. The memory of that kiss after the Christmas Tree Burn haunted me.

I’d had more than a few sexy dreams about him since.

He conveyed so much with his lips and his hands I couldn’t help but want more.

For someone who used to be able to go years without sex, I was now obsessed.

I had never experienced this kind of want, this kind of physical longing before.

I found myself staring at his lips or his big, strong hands without even realizing it.

But we both knew this was pretend. And the more time I spent with him, the more I appreciated his friendship.

Despite his grumpy exterior and intimidating presence, he was a big softie who loved his dog and his home.

I saw him go out of his way to help his brothers and his parents.

He was truly one of the good ones, wrapped in a sexy, broody, tattooed package.

And I knew I was lucky to have him in my life, even if he remained fully clothed at all times.

“What’s this?” I asked.

Declan handed me a card and gestured to a large, strangely shaped wrapped gift next to the couch.

“You got me a Valentine?”

He shrugged and looked at his feet. I could tell he was uncomfortable. It was cute. He was so rugged and masculine that this hint of bashfulness was such a turn-on. As was his Binnacle Brewing T-shirt, which was hugging his chest and shoulders in all the right places.

I wondered if he had chest hair. I wanted to rip that shirt off and find out for myself. Focus, Astrid. Focus.

My approach to relationships had always been fairly cautious and boring.

I had only slept with a few people, and it was usually after several dates and a lot of time spent figuring out if we were compatible.

I had never felt this way with any of the guys I had dated or slept with.

I never found myself daydreaming about a man’s body or wanting to rip their clothes off.

Declan inspired a curiosity in me that made me feel giddy and embarrassed.

“I feel terrible. I didn’t get you anything.

” Was I supposed to get a Valentine’s Day gift for my fake boyfriend?

I had no idea. He was so thoughtful and kind.

I was a shitty fake girlfriend. If we were really dating, I would just put out to distract him from my lack of a gift, but that was obviously not in the cards given the fake nature of our relationship.

We had maintained our rules since the slipup at the Christmas Tree Burn, and I was not going to be the one to screw this up.

“I don’t care. I just saw this and thought of you. Valentine’s Day was just an excuse to give it to you.”

I opened the card. It had roses on the front and was blank inside, and he had written his own message.

Happy Valentine’s Day. Our relationship may be fake, but your beauty, smarts, and incredible ass are all real.

xoxo Declan

I looked up at him and felt a blush creep across my cheeks.

I had never been given a Valentine as an adult.

He wrote me a message, and it was so cute.

And he thought I had a nice ass? I felt giddy and a little bit dizzy.

I wanted to throw my arms around him and kiss the hell out of him again, but I had to keep my hormones under control.

He was so kind and thoughtful. I couldn’t ruin this all by sticking my tongue down his throat like a horny teenager.

What did this mean? I wanted to sit down with a notebook and analyze this like a tricky contractual provision. I loved riddles and solving complex problems, so it seemed natural to do a full due diligence on this Valentine. Stop being crazy and open your present.

“Open your gift.”

I went to grab the gift, and it was insanely heavy. “What is this thing?”

I sat on the floor and began to unwrap the floral paper. My hands were shaking slightly. I didn’t often receive gifts, so this felt special, significant somehow.

I tore all the paper away and stared. “What? Is this…a sledgehammer?” It was fancy looking, with a beautiful, polished wood handle.

My name was engraved on the top in fancy script.

It must have weighed at least ten pounds.

I was really confused. What on earth did I need an admittedly very fancy sledgehammer for?

“Yup. I have a surprise for you. Grab your coat.”

“What are we doing here?”

“You’ll see.”

Declan had driven us down through town to the headquarters of Quinn Fisheries.

It was a massive shipyard with equipment and machinery everywhere.

There was an enormous building with industrial garage doors on one side.

I had never been to this part of town. It was much more commercial looking, and large fishing boats bobbed up and down in the water for what looked like miles.

It was chilly, but bright and sunny, a brisk winter day and I was glad I’d worn my heavy coat.

He parked in front and grabbed my gift out of the back. He slung it over his shoulder and led me over to an area where there was debris and equipment lying around.

“Here, I made this for you.” He gestured to a massive structure made of wooden shipping pallets. “We have had these and this other junk lying around. So I collected it all for you.”

I stared at him. I wasn’t sure what was going on. So there was a bunch of scrap wood and other stuff. Were we going to burn it?

He handed me a pair of safety glasses. “Here. To protect your eyes.” I took them and put them on. They wrapped around the side of my face and reminded me of chemistry lab in high school.

We stood in silence. He was smiling at me, with his infuriatingly handsome face. Did he want me to sledgehammer? What would that accomplish? Surely we could put all this crap in one of the many dumpsters on the edge of the property?

He nodded toward the pile. “Get to work.”

“So you just want me to what? Smash all this?”

He crossed his arms and smiled. “Yup.”

“Why?”

“Because you can. Trust me, that is a great reason.”

This was officially the strangest gift I had ever been given. But I was intrigued. I doubted I was strong enough to swing this thing, and while busting up old pallets and junk sounded like fun, I wasn’t really connecting the dots.

“You can do it. Fuck it up, killer. Go nuts.” I smiled. I secretly loved when he called me killer. I had never been the sugar and spice and everything nice type of girl. I wore my toughness like a badge of honor, and I appreciated that he recognized that.

Declan took a few steps back and put on the other pair of goggles. “Do you want a soundtrack?” He held up his phone.

I smirked. “Do you have any Lizzo?”

“For you, I’ve got everything.”

He cued up the music, and I stared out at the tranquil ocean.

There were docks with small boats and large ships, fishing nets, a large crane, and other machines I couldn’t recognize.

It was interesting, seeing this part of Declan, getting a taste of his world.

It was so unlike the touristy downtown area of Havenport.

This felt more authentic, more real, and I was happy that he brought me here.

I appreciated seeing this side of him, this essential part of his life.

I looked at the wood. There was a ton of it. There was no way I could break all this up. I would give it a few tries and then let him have a turn. It seemed rude not to try.

I put both hands on the wooden handle of the sledgehammer and lifted it up, slamming it down on the wood. It was heavy, but easier than I thought.

Instantly the wood splintered with a satisfying crash.

Oooh. That was nice. Lizzo sang in the background, making me feel stronger and tougher than ever.

I raised it up higher, swinging it above my head and driving it down with my knees.

Yes. You’re right, Lizzo. 100%.

It was fun.

Declan had music blasting from his phone and I was laughing.

I turned around to face him. “This is great!” I yelled.

He beamed at me and gave me a thumbs-up.

I swung again, harder, and broke through one whole pallet. I had no idea I was so strong.

Again and again I swung. My arms and shoulders were getting tired, and my heart was racing. Damn, this was an incredible workout. Wood splintered in every direction, and after a few tries I found a good rhythm. If I used my abs and legs to help drive it down, I was able to get even more power.

I reached a large metal tub of some kind. This could be harder. I put down the sledgehammer, did a quick stretch, and then picked it back up.

I swung it up, brought it down, and let out a primal scream. The sledgehammer hit the metal and crushed it, folding the tub in on itself. I dropped the sledgehammer and started jumping up and down, yelling.

Declan ran up to me. “Are you having fun?”

I grabbed him by the shoulder and kissed him quickly on the mouth. “So. Much. Fun.” I was officially sweating. I peeled off my jacket and handed it to Declan and pushed up the sleeves on my sweatshirt.

I turned around and got back to work. Over and over I brought down the sledgehammer, destroying the wood, metal, and plastic that he had set up for me.

I yelled and screamed at the top of my lungs. And every time I swung, it was as though some of the tension inside me loosened. The knots of anxiety that had lived in my brain since childhood were slowly unraveling.

Declan was smiling and shouting words of encouragement. “Let it all out, Astrid. Get it all out.”

“Fuck Burns & Glenn,” I screamed as another blow came down.

Fuck those assholes who exploited my labor for six years and then turned on me.

I gave them everything I had. I cancelled vacations, I let friendships wither and die, I suppressed every desire, every dream I’d ever had just so I could chase the brass ring of partnership.

“Fuck Max Shapiro.” More crashing and destruction. He sexually harassed me and then tried to destroy my career? I brought the hammer down again, wishing it was his smug face.

“Fuck my mother and her stupid expectations.” Slam.

“Fuck being a Wentworth and all the bullshit pressure.” Slam.

“Fuck the patriarchy.” Slam.

As I swung and swung, dozens of times, I felt the pressure lessen.

That internal weight that I had been dragging along with me was getting lighter and lighter every time I swung the sledgehammer.

It was as if this pile of junk represented all my anxieties and insecurities, and I was destroying them blow by blow.

I yelled, I screamed, I cried, and it felt so good.

I didn’t even know what I was saying. I was yelling, mumbling, and sometimes screaming like a wild animal.

Poor Declan probably thought I had officially lost my mind.

But I didn’t care. Something had shifted deep inside me, and there was no going back.

I was sweating and swearing and having the time of my life. The sizable pile that Declan had made me was reduced to rubble. I doubted I would be able to lift my arms tomorrow, but I didn’t care. I felt good. I felt powerful. I felt like I could conquer the world.

I turned and saw Declan smiling at me. Thankfully, he was not running away from my crazy. I was panting and sweating and my eyes were teary. I dropped the sledgehammer, and he wrapped his arms around me. “I am so proud of you,” he said, pulling me into a hug.

He felt strong and secure and safe. He accepted me as I was and didn’t ask me to change.

He gave me this gift because he knew it would help me, it would heal me.

He made me stronger and built me up. My entire life I had been surrounded by people who took from me.

Took my time, my attention, my emotional energy.

Everyone that had ever been close to me wanted something.

Men who used me for sex or for professional connections.

All those friends in college and law school that befriended me because of who my mother was.

But not Declan. Declan cared for me and gave me his friendship and support without asking for anything in return. I had wanted him for weeks, but at that moment, I could not live without him. My body burned for him. I craved him, and I couldn’t pretend for another minute.

I grabbed his face and planted a passionate kiss on his mouth. He was stunned but quickly caught up, wrapping his strong arms around me and deepening the kiss.

“Declan,” I panted as he kissed my neck. “Declan, take me home.”

“Anything, killer. I will do anything you want.”

He knew me better than I knew myself. He knew what would help me and heal me.