His lips caress the crown of my head again, a delicate cherishing kiss. I move slowly and look up at him. Our lips connect once more. We are two puzzle pieces who have finally found their match.
A tired, spent, exhausted, grateful kiss goodnight deepens. Becomes passionate once more. Becomes heated and excited.
Declan envelops me again, pinning me to the bed.
This man, who can go all day long on the bike, who has endurance and speed and strength, shows me that he can go all night too.
38
DECLAN
The early-morning light wakes me. I slept well, even if only for a few hours.
Charlie lays next to me, her breath even as she dreams. Her bare shoulder begs to be kissed, but I don’t want to wake her.
I get up and put on my boxers before tiptoeing downstairs. I find my undershirt and put that on too.
I set about making breakfast and discover there is oatmeal. And that is it.
Another check of cabinets reveals some peanut butter and a tin can of coffee. It’s not decaf so I know Charlie may refuse it, but I certainly need the caffeine.
After yesterday, there is so much for my brain to unpack. The largest topic on my mind is Charlie. She’s the one who has taking up more and more of my headspace the last few weeks. And now it seems – my heart.
I’m happy. I’m smiling and my face hurts from it because I’m not the kind of person who smiles for no reason. My brain is already forming daydreams of future nights with her, of dates and dinners, and all the things I’ve avoided for years because no one else was worth the risk.
I’m happy and that terrifies me. Giving into each other last night has shifted the world.What if the Order targets Charlie? What if they get to her? What if in trying to protect the world Charlie is at risk? Or what if I save Charlie but other people are harmed?
I need to go for a ride on my bike. I do my best thinking there. Charlie isn’t a problem to solve. My fears are.
I set the drip coffee to brew when I hear a buzz coming from the living room. I walk over to find my phone rattling on the corkboard and laminate coffee table.
It’s Oliver. “Go for Davidson,” I say at my usual volume and then wince. I don’t want to wake Charlie and the echo in here is kind of ridiculous.
“Declan, we have a new piece of information. One of the stewards on Castillo’s yacht let us know they’re about to dock in Ostia, Italy.”
“That port gets them close to Rome,” I confirm.
“Exactly. Apparently, they’ll be docked for over a week,” Oliver continues, not mentioning or commenting that my voice is now much quieter.
I nod and turn round at the sound of Charlie stirring in the loft. “So Castillo will be at the World Games to either carry out the attack or act as an alibi for the secondary attack.”
“Or both,” Oliver answers. “Let’s all regroup later this morning at headquarters. Let’s say two hours from now?”
“Will do,” I confirm.
“Can you pick up Charlie from the safehouse on your way in?” he asks, as I watch the woman in question delicately descend the spiral stairs wearing only the oversized T-shirt I watched her take off last night. I can’t help but stare at her legs as she takes careful steps. When she reaches the bottom stair, she looks over at me with a smile before blushing and biting her lip. My mouth is dry, my tongue glued in place. My expression must give away my thoughts.
“Uh yeah, I’ll pick her up,” I lie after clearing my throat.
Oliver disconnects the line and I make my way over to Charlie, who is pouring two glasses of water in the kitchen.
I offer a “good morning,” before I plant a kiss on her head.
She smiles as she twists her hair at the nape of her neck. “Morning.”
“Sorry I woke you up,” I admit.
Charlie brushes this off and starts to assess the breakfast options. I make a bland bowl of oatmeal while Charlie not so elegantly dips a spoon into the jar of peanut butter and begins to nibble at it.
