“We’ll be fine,” she assures him.
He gives her a small smile, then follows the petite woman, leaving me alone with Claire for the first time since Boston.
Earlier this morning, I didn’t think I’d ever hear from her again, let aloneseeher.
And now we’re sitting mere inches away from each other in a darkened restaurant overlooking an idyllic lake.
Claire purposefully avoids looking at me, directing her attention out the windows as she fidgets with her hands. The hum of the restaurant fills the awkward silence —clinking silverware, soft holiday music, the murmur of nearby conversations.
I hate everything about it.
When I can’t take the tension anymore, I murmur, “Claire.”
“Declan,” she says at the same time.
We both laugh nervously. God, that laugh. I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear it until now.
I gesture toward her with a smile. “Go ahead.”
She lifts her chin, a hint of the Claire I saw in Boston returning. “I didn’t know who you were that night. If I had…” She trails off, exhaling hard. “It never would’ve happened.”
“I didn’t know who you were, either,” I respond, then chuckle under my breath. “In fact, the reason I was even in that bar is because I’d just found out about Joshua and I needed something to help me take my mind off the fact that I had a son I never knew about.”
“And that was me.”
“That was you.” I meet her gaze, low and even. “I’m glad it was you. That night… I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”
A blush blooms on her cheeks, and she bites her lower lip to reel in her smile. God, what I wouldn’t give to bite that lip like I did in Boston.
But this isn’t like Boston.
I know who she is now.
She’s my son’s friend.
A woman he very well could have slept with.
Who he once had romantic feelings for.
There are some lines even I won’t cross.
And this is one of them.
So instead of allowing myself to be drawn into her, I clear my throat and drag my eyes back to my drink.
“Regardless of how incredible that night was or how I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, it’s probably for the best if we don’t tell him.”
She straightens, blinking repeatedly before averting her gaze. “Right. Of course.”
“I want to try to build something with him,” I explain. “I don’t want to risk that by him finding out about us.”
Claire is quiet for a long beat, her expression completely unreadable. Finally, she looks my way and forces a smile.
“As far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing for him to find out. It was just one night. We can pretend it never happened.”
“Exactly.” I swallow hard, hearing those words leave her mouth harder than I thought it would be. “We’ll just pretend it never happened.”
Although, I get a feeling that’s easier said than done.
