As Declan made himself comfortable in her kitchen, he had a brief worry that this felt a bit too comfortable, too casual. Were they overstepping some kind of boundary here? Or did this sort of amicable relationship just naturally happen when two people spent a lot of time together in an emotionally charged situation?
He pushed the thought from his head as Kate headed to the cabinet where she kept the glasses, which was right where he was working. “Sorry, I just need to reach up to that shelf,” she said, pointing to the cabinet in question.
“Oh, right,” he acknowledged a bit awkwardly as he tried to step back from where he had been cutting vegetables for a salad. He moved enough so Kate could wedge her way in, and the small corner space forced their two bodies together.
“Um, sorry,” she said quickly as her arm brushed Declan’s. “The one awkward area of this kitchen,” she gave by way of an explanation. “Greg and I always said that if we’d designed this room, we would never have put in an island. Too cramped.” Her face had turned bright red.
Declan smiled. “How long had you been married when you moved here?” A flash of something crossed her face then and he added, “I’m sorry, it’s none of my business. You don’t have to—”
“No, really, it’s fine,” answered Kate. “I can talk about it. And it’s good for me to talk about it. It’s my life, it happened. Really, it’s OK and I’m OK. We were married for eight years when we moved here. Times were great and for that, I’m thankful. Maybe my marriage didn’t last as long as I thought it would, but there were definitely way more good memories than bad.” She wore a smile and this time Declan was pleased to see that it reached her eyes. “What about you? Been down that road yourself?”
He chuckled. “No. I came close, though. I was engaged to a girl from Dublin a few years ago. But it didn’t work out.” He hoped his voice didn’t sound bitter. He’d been heartbroken at the time, but he definitely didn’t wish his ex-fiancée any ill will.
“So what happened?” she asked. He turned to face her and as he met her gaze he realized she was blushing. “It’s just...you know so much about me.” She smiled nervously and was it just him or had something definitely shifted between them today?
Declan tried to fight the growing worry that he might be crossing a boundary here. “Well, there isn’t much to tell,” he said honestly. “She pretty much decided that small-town life wasn’t what she wanted. And that wasn’t good, considering I’m a small-town kind of guy.”
Kate rolled her eyes playfully. “Yet the small-town guy can cook. Where did you learn that?”
Turning back to the stovetop in an effort to finish with the food, Declan replied, “My mother is a great cook. Interestingly, her skills passed on to me, but not to Alison. God love her, she wouldn’t even know what this room is used for. Now, voilà, lunch is served. Eat up.”
The pair dug into their pasta and fell into a comfortable line of banter. Declan had broken bread with many clients in the past, but he had to admit that none of his business lunches or dinners ever felt this comfortable.
It was friendly. And he liked how easily their conversation seemed to flow. For the first time ever, they weren’t talking about Rosie’s case. They were simply two ordinary people discussing their day-to-day lives. It gave him a better picture of who Kate was when she wasn’t wrapped in stress, worry and sadness.
And he couldn’t deny that he liked it.
“That, Mr. Roe, was absolutely delicious,” complimented Kate as she swallowed her last bite of pasta. “Oh, my goodness, I’m so full I think I’m about to fall asleep after it.”
Chuckling, he replied, “I’m not going to fall for that—you’re cleaning up.”
“And I will—right after I get back from the hospital.”
“Aww, hell, now you’ve got me feeling guilty. Go on away, woman, and I’ll look after this. You look after Rosie. I can let myself out after.” Then realizing this might have sounded too familiar, he added, “If that’s OK?”
“Of course it is. And...thank you. I can’t remember the last time I had such a nice meal. And I definitely can’t remember the last time anyone cooked for me...”
The pair looked at each other then as the words hung in the air. Something had definitely shifted.
“I...I’d better go,” Kate said, looking terrified.
“Of course. But first, let me give you those papers I wanted you to sign. They’re in the car. You can take them with you and I’ll get them back whenever.” He swallowed hard and forced himself to not seem weird. Kate was his client. She was going through a hard time. They had talked—ventured a bit too far into the personal maybe, but it was all OK.
“Great. Will do.”
Kate collected her things and Declan headed out front with her to his Volvo to get the documents.
“Take care and say hello to Rosie for me,” he said, handing them to her. “We’ll have to celebrate properly when she comes home.”
Kate smiled then, tears in her eyes, and, almost without thinking, Declan closed the space between the two of them and gave her a hug.
He felt her arms go around him, squeezing him softly as she returned the contact.
“Thank you,” she said quietly, emotion thick in her voice, before breaking the embrace and getting into the car.
Declan watched her leave, his mind suddenly a maelstrom of thoughts he hadn’t the first clue how to process.
34
