Yep.
Even if I didn’t fully admit it to myself, I wanted all of those things. And oh my god, did I ever get them. Stopping a couple of feet from him, I let him look his fill. The way he’s looking at me right now gives me back the equilibrium I lost when he said all those awful things to me. I know how to handle a man wanting me like this. I know sexy hooded eyes. I know want. Coming from Declan, though, it’s a revelation.
Men love me. I don’t care what the beauty ideal is. Men look at my curves, and they want. Always. It’s predictable. It’s reliable. But Declan never seemed to, not really. That hurt more than I would like to admit. What good is being stacked if you can’t attract the one man you’re starving for? Or were starving for. Okay, that’s a lie. I’m still starving.
I watch Declan watch me. Finally, his eyes rise to mine. He flushes, caught, dropping his gaze and flapping the hoodie in the air toward me. I should take it. I should pull it on and break this tension, but instead, I turn slowly, giving him my back. His choked inhale makes me smile, but he gets the idea and comes to me. He slowly pulls the sweater up my arms, his fists pulling the fabric closed at my throat.
We stand frozen, both breathing faster than we should be. I keep waiting for him to pull away, to dash to the bathroom, but he doesn’t. Instead, he steps into me, making my breath catch in my throat. I can feel all of him. The cold of his damp clothes through the sweater. The zipper of his jeans is just at the top of my ass. My head is spinning with sensation, and I’m nearly overloaded when his arms come around me, reaching for the zipper. Slowly, so slowly, he pulls it up, using his thumb between the zipper and my satin nighty, making sure it doesn’t catch.
Is he teasing me on purpose? I’ve been touched more intimately by other men, and not one of those moments generated this kind of heat. The tip of his thumb is grazing slowly up my belly, the tiniest back-and-forth motion barely noticeable. To my eye, at least. To my body, it feels like his whole hand is stroking me. I can feel his beard brushing my cheek as he looks over my shoulder. We’re both breathing, watching, feeling as he grazes the valley between my breasts. I’m either about to hyperventilate or attack the man. This tension has to break somehow.
“Colton is very sorry.” His breath rasps against my cheek. “Evie’s pissed at him. And Ransom wants you to call him.”
He pulls away, grabs his bag, and enters the bathroom without a backward glance. He places my bag outside the door and closes it firmly, not looking at me once. Meanwhile, I’m reeling, wondering if my legs are going to support me long enough to get to my phone. How can he be so unaffected?
All those insecurities are roaring back. I don’t like this version of me. The one so desperate for a scrap of his attention. It was almost easier when he was avoiding me. This though? The teasing, then walking away, hurts worse. I couldn’t have been more obvious about what I wanted, what I was offering, and he just...passed me up. Again. I am so done.
Angrily blinking away my tears, I grab my purse, pull back the covers on the bed, and drop down into the crisp white sheets, tucking my cold feet under the covers gratefully. It’s past midnight, but I dial Ransom, knowing he’ll be waiting for my call. He picks up on the second ring.
“Cara. Are you okay?”
His concern makes the tears well again. I didn’t know I’d be getting this, any of this when I took this job. I’ve never worked for anyone like these men. As soon as I became Ransom’s assistant, I got a bunch of truck-sized big brothers. The men checking on me, teasing me. Making me feel like I was part of their family, even though I’m not.
“I’m okay,” I hear the break in my voice. I know he does, too, from his quick inhale. “It’s just been a long day, and the roads were so scary.”
“Fucking Colton. I can’t believe he did this. It’s not like him to put anyone in danger like this.”
“He would never put us in danger on purpose.” It’s true. He’s overprotective to the max. He’d never put me in a dangerous situation. “But I don’t understand what he was thinking.” Ransom’s silence is telling.
“What do you know, Ran?” A shiver runs up my back. All those dumb errands he had me running today flash through my mind. Things are starting to make more sense. He was fucking in on it.
“I didn’t know he had all of this planned, I swear. We were just going to get the two of you on the plane together. That’s all. I thought it would give you a few hours to straighten things out. I didn’t know about the stop, or the car, and the rest of his stupid plan.”
He’s sorry. I can hear it. But knowing he had a part in this, in angling to get us together, hurts.
“I trusted you,” I say calmly. Evenly. It’s that, or scream at him. “You went behind my back and fucked with my life.”
“I was trying to help. I swear that’s all it was.”
“Because I’m so incapable of running my own life?”
“I know you’re not incapable.” His words are low and measured. Cautious.
“Then it must be Declan. You knew he wanted to make amends, so you wanted to give him time to do that. You betrayed me.” I think my heart is breaking a little. I thought I mattered more than this. “I guess when it comes down to it, I’m not family, and he is. I shouldn’t be surprised that you’d do what you think is best for him.”
“Fuck, Cara. That’s not it. I just want—“.
I press the end button, unable to keep it together anymore. He calls back immediately, and I switch my phone to silent as my tears fall steadily.
I didn’t realize how much I depended on Ransom and the rest of the guys caring about me. They always make me feel like I matter. But for the first time, I feel like an outsider. This hair-brained plan wasn’t about what I confessed to Colton all those weeks ago. It’s about Declan and his guilty conscience. So they moved and manipulated me because that’s what they thought was best for him.
It was stupid of me to believe I was just like family. I was wrong, and I try to convince myself it’s better I know it now, so I can adjust my expectations.
I don’t believe it.
17
DECLAN
