“Okay.” I smile. “It’s a date.”
His entire expression lights up, and he clutches my face in his hands, touching a kiss to my lips.
“Thank you,” he murmurs against my mouth.
Then he disappears into the bedroom, hastily dressing in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt before heading down the hallway and into the kitchen to spend time with his son.
As I watch him go, my mother’s words echo in my head once more, louder than before.
Could she be right?
Is this all just another example of me settling for whatever pieces Declan is willing to give me because I’m worried he won’t give me anything at all?
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CLAIRE
The streets glitterwith Christmas lights, wreaths strung between lampposts, every shop window glowing with holiday-themed displays. Snow dusts the rooftops, and when the wind kicks up, flakes swirl around us like something out of a snow globe.
Declan’s hand is warm around mine, his grip steady, reassuring, possessive in a way that makes me feel both safe and cherished. Each time his thumb strokes across my knuckles, a little shiver races through me, one I try to blame on the cold.
Every few steps, I catch him stealing a glance at me, as though he can’t help himself. And every time, my lips curve into a smile that refuses to leave. My cheeks ache from it, but I don’t care. There’s a lightness in him tonight, as though some invisible burden has been lifted.
I feel it, too. For once, neither of us is looking over our shoulders, worried we’ll be caught.
Tonight, we can finally be free.
Out of nowhere, he comes to an abrupt stop and tugs me against him, the sudden motion stealing my breath. Then he crashes his mouth down on mine, hot and fierce. My gut instinctis to push him away, remind him we can’t do this in public. But then I remember. Here, we can.
Tourists skirt around us, boots crunching in the snow, someone whistling low as they pass. Declan doesn’t notice, doesn’t care. His only focus is me. His tongue sensually strokes mine, and I taste mint on his lips, the heat of him a stark contrast to the chilly night air.
He kisses me like I belong to him.
Even though I know I don’t, a reckless part of me aches to.
When he finally pulls back, I’m dazed, my lips tingling.
“What was that for?” I exhale breathlessly.
His smile is pure sin, and it sends a jolt of need straight to my core. “Because I can. I like being able to kiss you whenever I want.”
The words sink deeper than they should. I tell myself not to read into them. Not to let my heart twist them into promises he’ll never be able to fulfill. But my heart never seems to listen when Declan’s around.
We reach the restaurant, its windows glowing against the night. Inside, it’s warm and intimate. Candles flicker on each table. Crystal glasses glint. Soft, ambient music plays in the background. The hostess leads us to a table by the window, where the lake glimmers dark and glassy beneath the mountains.
Declan sits across from me, his gaze never straying, his eyes raking over me like he’s trying to memorize every feature.
“You look beautiful, Claire,” he says, his voice low and husky.
Heat rushes to my cheeks. “No need to work your charms on me,” I say to cut through the tension. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m a sure bet tonight.”
He takes my hand in his, bringing it up to his lips. Almost like he can’t stop kissing or touching me.
“I can still tell you that you’re beautiful. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”
I part my lips, on the brink of insisting that’s precisely the sort of thing heshouldn’tsay. But the words die on my tongue.
Iwantto hear him call me beautiful. Want to box up his words and tuck them away somewhere safe so I can revisit this moment when I need to feel something good. Something honest. Something real.
