I’m already sitting down and examining what food we have. “Sorry, Brielle wanted to remind me that life can be puppies, babies, and sunshine.” Looking up, I see that Declan has a confused expression on his face, as he should. “Ignore me. I’m late and starving.”
He indicates for me to lift the cover of the tray, and I do so eagerly to find a burger and fries. “Figured you’ll burn a ton of calories, so I’d better go all out.”
A fry lands in my mouth and tastes heavenly. “I totally skipped breakfast this morning by accident. A bride was waiting at my door because she was eloping at the courthouse and forgot about flowers, then Brielle came by, and hell, I’m not even sure I’m caffeinated today.” I shake the ketchup bottle because hunger is taking over my words and body.
“I’m a little scared what Monday-you looks like on coffee now.” Declan sits down in front of me and removes the cover on his plate and reveals a BLT sandwich. “It’s okay, I need to eat too. I’m training a group of ten-year-olds at 2:30, and something tells me that I need energy for that. I need a relaxing de-stressor too, but I think that’s why you’re here.”
I throw a fry at him, but I can’t help but beam at his humor. “I think you kind of enjoy helping at camp. Is it the first time that you’re on the ice since the season ended?”
His face turns soft as he pauses for a moment. “I guess it is. It’s slightly different, but maybe I didn’t notice since playing hockey comes naturally.” Declan flexes his jaw side to side and seems to be at peace with his realization.
“Kind of cool that you get to do something else with hockey now.”
“I think everyone is waiting for me to fail.” He laughs.
I take a break from chomping on my food and study him for a second. “Curse of a family name or…?”
“Nobody wants the rich guy to succeed. In truth, the whole owning-a-hockey-team thing leaves a lot of room for error. I’m not used to all these business meetings. It’s kind of a relief this week being in Lake Spark and back on the ice.”
I prop my head in my hand and appreciate his honesty on the topic. He notices that I’m staring, and his lips twist. “I feel like hockey players take on projects once they retire. When Ford retired, it was full-on Operation Win Back Brielle, and then family and the sports complex, it all keeps him busy. I guess owning a hockey team is your project?” I flash him an odd look. Partly because, for some reason deep within, it doesn’t feel like he is convinced of his next chapter.
A sound escapes him, and our eyes lock for a thick moment. “You maybe have a point. It’s going to be hard not to bring up Ford in conversation, isn’t it?”
“Probably.” I sigh.
“How did you end up as a florist?” Declan asks before grabbing a bottle of water.
I set my burger down, no qualms that I can eat like it’s a night at home chillaxing. “After college, I wanted to start a business, and I’ve always loved flowers. I was never great at sports, but I did join a sorority, which might be the reasoning for some of my tendencies.” I tilt my head to the side in contemplation.
“That’s how you know Charlotte? From your sorority?” He looks at me, purely entertained.
“For sure. Anyway, despite the epic Friday-night parties, we had quite a lot of rules, including a promise to volunteer in the community. I volunteered to be a big sister to a girl in high school, Phoebe. She has Down Syndrome, and she loves flowers—tulips, in particular. Our weekly meetings were always at the botanical gardens, visiting florists, or planting flowers at her house. Her family moved to Vermont, but every year, I send her tulip bulbs to plant so in the spring she has them blooming. So anyway, after college and one business loan with Ford’s help later, I put down roots here in Lake Spark.”
Declan leans back in his chair, with his eyes surveying me, up and down, but in a way that feels almost captivated, and it sends a wave a warmth through me. I guess I forgot what it feels like to be the object of someone’s sole attention; I’m always the one there for everyone else.
“I’m trying to figure out your flaw. Everything you say makes it difficult for me to believe that you have any, except we all have one.”
I sigh. “Trust me, we all have cracks, even if you don’t see them.” I look away because I can’t handle his eyes on me, maybe because now I feel that he is watching me closer.
“You’re right. Just sometimes we manage to keep it to ourselves.” His voice is gentle almost, and I swear I hear vulnerability, or maybe I wish for it because then I would feel even in this conversation.
“I’m pretty sure that I didn’t come here for a burger and small talk.” I smile nervously because it’s best if I attempt to move us on to other matters.
“You’re right. Stand up.” I’m surprised how his tone switched to an order. Returning my gaze to him, I’m faced with his determination.
Wiping my hands quickly with the napkin, I stand up, very much aware that this man has no problem with dominance, but the playful smirk on the corner of his mouth is inviting and relaxed.
I slowly walk a few steps then plop myself onto the edge of the bed, sitting up straight like a polite woman would. “I believe you mentioned something about de-stressing.” My eyes drift down to my finger where I’m tracing the lines of the duvet pattern. Nonetheless, I sense Declan vacate his chair, causing my chest to flutter.
The mattress dips when he sits down next to me, and when his hand lands on my thigh, I nearly shiver from his touch. An unbearable aching ignites between my legs, and I feel my nipples tighten. All of this because he placed his hand on my oh, so sensitive inner thigh.
My breath catches when I feel the pads of his fingers slide up my skin, taunting me of his impending touch between my legs.
Declan leans in to whisper near the shell of my ear. “Do you want to know a secret, Vi?”
“Yes.” My breath feels heavy.
“All morning, you’ve been on my mind and how I want to touch you. I’m trying to be a good guy and let you have your lunch, but I don’t want to be the good guy anymore.” Declan’s lips trail down my neck until he finds my collarbone that he traces with his tongue.
