“No,” I say instantly, shaking my head. “No, this is your parents’ place. I will. We can’t both sleep in the single bed.”
“Says who?” he asked and turned to head back into the bedroom.
I heard the sounds of fire making and headed that way, following him like a moth to a flame.
The bedroom was already warming up, the new fire crackling cheerfully in the stone fireplace. Declan was now climbing back into the narrow bed, holding the covers up invitingly. In the flickering firelight, he looked like every fantasy I’d ever had made flesh—broad shoulders and lean muscle and blue eyes that tracked my every movement.
“Holly,” he said quietly. “Whatever you’re overthinking right now, can it wait until morning? I promise we’ll talk about everything. But right now, I just want to hold you while the storm does its thing.”
The simple honesty in his voice made something in my chest loosen. Maybe he was right. Maybe I didn’t need to solve every complication tonight. Maybe I could just let myself have this—one night of feeling wanted and safe and completely present in the moment.
I shrugged off my coat and kicked off my boots, climbing into the bed beside him. The mattress was so small that there was no way to maintain any kind of distance. I ended up with my back pressed against his chest.
“Better?”
“Better,” I replied, though my mind was still racing with unspoken confessions and unanswered questions.
We lay in comfortable silence for a while, listening to the fire crackle and the storm howl outside, and I felt Declan’s breathing gradually even out again as sleep claimed him. The man was exhausted. Whatever brought him back to Everdale Falls was weighing heavily on him. His arm was slung across my waist, anchoring me against him, and I could feel his heartbeat steady and strong against my back.
I should have felt peaceful. Safe. Content in the aftermath of incredible sex with a man who’d just proven he could make my body do things no one else ever had.
Instead, I stared at the dancing shadows the fire cast on the rough-hewn walls and tried to untangle the mess I’d created.
The Chicago interview was in five days. Five days to prepare, to research the company, to craft the perfect answers that would convince them I was exactly what they needed. Five days during which I also had to coordinate the final festival preparations, manage vendor logistics, and apparently navigate whatever this thing with Declan had become.
And I still hadn’t told him.
The worst part was that I didn’t even know what I wanted anymore. A few days ago, the answer would have been simple—get the hell out of Everdale Falls, resurrect my career, prove to everyone who’d doubted me that I could succeed on my own terms. Chicago represented everything I’d lost when Derek and Patricia had systematically destroyed my life between them.
But now there was Declan, there was this. And somehow, we had to figure whateverthiswas out, and soon.
Twenty-Three
DECLAN
Morning After Logistics
I wokeup to the sound of Holly muttering what sounded like a creative string of profanity from the main room. Sunlight was streaming through the bedroom windows, revealing a world transformed into a winter wonderland that looked like a Christmas card and probably meant we were completely screwed transportation-wise.
“Everything okay out there?” I called, stretching in the narrow bed and immediately missing the warmth of Holly’s body pressed against mine.
“Define okay,” Holly called back, her voice carrying a note of barely contained hysteria. “Because if okay means we’re trapped in a cabin with no food, no coffee, and enough snow outside to build an igloo village, then sure. Everything’s peachy.”
Coffee. Right. I should have thought about provisions yesterday, but I’d been somewhat distracted by the woman who was currently pacing around the main room like a caged tiger. A very attractive caged tiger who’d done incredible things tomy body a few hours ago and was now apparently experiencing some morning-after regret.
I pulled on my clothes and walked out to find Holly now standing at the front window, her hair a beautiful mess that reminded me exactly how it had gotten that way.
“How bad is it?” I asked, moving to stand beside her.
“See for yourself,” she said, gesturing at the window with the dramatic flair of someone announcing the apocalypse.
I looked out and immediately understood her concern. The snow had continued falling all night, leaving at least two feet of fresh powder on top of what had already been on the ground. My rental was buried up to the door handles, looking like a small snow mountain that might have once been a vehicle.
“Well,” I said carefully, “that’s definitely more snow than expected.”
“More snow than expected,” Holly repeated in a tone that suggested she was questioning my observational skills. “Declan, your car looks like it’s been claimed by the Arctic. We’re going to need a helicopter to get out of here.”
“Or shovels,” I said pragmatically. “And coffee. Definitely coffee.”
