6. Declan
6
DECLAN
Adrenaline floods through me, panic tearing through my chest as I watch Margot plummet downward, icy shards cracking around her like a smashed mirror.
“MARGOT!” I shout, her name ripping out of me as I skate like lightning toward the black hole in the ice. There’s no time to think. I need to get to her. I need to save her.
Tearing off my coat, I lower myself feet-first into the water, my hand scrabbling desperately for Margot as I sink beneath the ice. There’s nothing but darkness. I let myself drop farther, the cold water slapping against me as I grab wildly at nothing. Terror squeezes my gut.
Fuck! Margot, where are you?!
Something collides with me. In the blackness, a hand grips my arm, and I spring to life, holding tight and swimming upward until I can see the fading sunlight just above us. With a gasp of breath, I break through the surface and pull Margot up with me until we’re both lying beside the icy hole, shivering. I drag her away from it, pulling her toward the snowy bank.
“It’s okay,” I tell her, my heart slamming against my ribcage. She’s soaking, trembling, her skin as white as the snow beneath us. I kick off my skates and grab her shoes, not bothering to put on my own—there’s no time. Bending down, I hoist her over my shoulder and run as fast as I can toward the bridge that crosses the lake. My cabin is just the other side. I need to get Margot out of these wet clothes and into the warm.
“Everything’s okay,” I tell her, wincing at the way her teeth chatter. “We’re almost there. I got you.”
I shoulder open the door to my cabin and set Margot down in my armchair by the fireplace. With trembling hands, I get a fire started, stoking it until the flames are roaring.
“I’ll be right back,” I assure her, racing to my bedroom and grabbing a thick sweater and several blankets.
“I-I’m sorry,” Margot says as I reenter the living room. Her voice is weak and trembling with cold, but it’s a relief to hear her speak. “You t-told me not t-to get too c-close to the edge.”
“This is my fault,” I tell her firmly. “You did nothing wrong, Margot. I should have kept you safe on the ice.” Shame sinks in my chest, heavy as a stone, but right now, I need to focus on getting her warm. “We need to get you out of those clothes.”
Her eyes flicker away from my face, down to the sweater in my hands. “I-I can do it.”
She takes the sweater from me and stands up. I turn around, listening as her clothes fall to the floor. Knowing this angel is stripping off just behind me would be driving me crazy right now if I hadn’t almost let her drown a few minutes ago. The thought makes me feel sick. Something tells me that Margot disappearing through the ice is going to haunt my nightmares for a long time. I’ve never felt that kind of terror before, and my whole body is still shook up from it.
“You can turn around now.”
My sweater swamps Margot, hanging down to her knees. She’s fashioned the blanket into a kind of sarong, and it’s tied off around her waist.
“Am I ready for the catwalk?” she asks, smiling slightly.
I smile back at her, relief swelling inside me when I see the color in her cheeks. Her shivers have subsided, and she stays close to the fire, looking adorable as hell in my sweater. Now that I know she’s okay, I head for my bedroom and pull on some dry clothes myself, the chill in my bones melting slightly from the warmth of the cabin.
“Let me make you some hot chocolate,” I say once I’m back in the living room. “You need any extra blankets?”
Margot shakes her head. “I feel a lot warmer already. Thank you.”
In the kitchen, I grab a mug from the cupboard, frowning to myself. Now that Margot is feeling better, my fear is dissipating, leaving nothing but anger. I’m fucking furious with myself. She almost drowned on my watch, and I can’t believe I let this angel get hurt. A fierce protectiveness is stirring inside me, and as I carry the hot chocolate through to the living room and hand it to Margot, I’m determined not to let her out of my sight.
She thanks me as she takes the mug, sipping her cocoa before she looks at me. “Thanks for saving my life, by the way. I probably should have said that earlier.”
“I’m the reason it needed saving.”
Margot shakes her head. “I shouldn’t have skated off like that. It was dumb. I was just embarrassed after what I said…” She tapers off, avoiding my gaze as she takes another sip.
I was so distracted by Margot’s fall that I didn’t have time to process any of what she told me earlier, but I think back to it now. She mentioned her parents’ divorce and her best friend moving out; her struggle to pay rent, and how she feels she should have these things all figured out by now. It’s the most Margot has ever told me about herself, and all I want to do is wrap her up in my arms and tell her everything will be okay.
“I’m sorry about your parents,” I say, sitting in the chair closest to hers. “It can’t be easy for you.”
She sighs. “I’m glad they’re getting divorced. They make each other miserable, and I think they’ll be much happier this way. I just wish they wouldn’t drag me into all the petty crap, like who gets to keep the darn coffee table.” She rolls her eyes. “Anyway, you don’t want to hear about all that.”
“Of course I do.”
Margot’s pretty blue eyes meet mine, her eyebrows raising slightly. Her hair is still damp, pushed away from her face, framing her soft cheeks. She’s so fucking beautiful it hurts.
“I’ve wanted to hear about your life since the day I met you,” I add, crossing my arms, “but you have a talent for avoiding questions.”
Margot’s lips quirk into an apologetic smile. “Well, now you know all about me and my boring life. Sorry if I got your hopes up and made you think I was a spy or an undercover agent or something.”
I chuckle, leaning toward her. “I definitely don’t know all about you, Margot. What do you do when you’re not working?”
She fiddles with her sleeve, frowning like she’s deep in thought, and my pulse quickens with anticipation. All week I’ve been trying to figure this girl out, and now she’s finally opening up a little.
“I write,” she says eventually. “Thrillers, mysteries, things like that. I’m working on my first novel.”
“Damn. I’m impressed.”
She shrugs. “It’s not finished. There isn’t much time for writing at the moment. But one day, I’d love to publish it.”
There’s a glimmer of longing in her eyes, and more than anything, I want to make this dream come true for her. I want to see her pretty face lit up with happiness. She deserves it.
“That sounds awesome,” I tell her. “Can’t wait to buy all your books.”
She presses her lips together, her cheeks pinkening. “Thanks. Hopefully, one day it will be more than just a dream. But it feels pretty far off right now.”
Instinctively, I reach out, resting my hand on hers. Her skin is still a little chilly, but her hand is soft and the contact makes my breath hitch.
“You have all the time in the world to figure it out,” I tell her. “Nobody has it all figured out at your age. Hell, even at my age, most people are only pretending they know what they’re doing.”
“Even you?” Margot asks tentatively.
“Even me.” I squeeze her hand. “Some days, I feel like I’m fucking up the family business. I tell myself I’m a failure. That I’ll never make the farm as successful as my dad did. I tell myself he’d be disappointed in me if he was still around.”
Margot looks stricken. “Declan, that’s not true.”
I shrug. “Maybe not, but our brains can be assholes. They convince us we’ll never achieve our dreams, never be good enough. But it’s all bullshit.” I meet her gaze, trying not to let my eyes drift to her lips. “You’ll finish your book, Margot. I know you will. And it will be fucking amazing.”
Margot stares at me for several moments, and my chest tightens when I see there are tears gleaming in her eyes. I’m about to apologize for upsetting her when she springs up from the chair and throws her arms around me. Her curves melt against my body and my cock stiffens, heat flooding through me. I hold her tight, pulling her closer, but she quickly lets go, and the warmth of her body on mine is gone as quickly as it arrived.
“Thank you, Declan,” she says, wiping away her tears. “I really needed to hear that.”
I nod, already missing the feel of her, trying hard to ignore the growing bulge in my pants. My thoughts are racing. It was just a hug. A quick, friendly hug. But fuck, it felt like so much more.
“I…I should get going,” Margot says, taking a step back from me. “You probably have other things to be doing.”
“I don’t.” There are definitely a million things I should be doing, but all I care about is Margot. “Let me cook dinner for you. I’m making chicken pot pie.”
She bites her lip, looking hesitant. There’s some kind of internal struggle going on—I can see some of her guardedness returning—but finally, she says, “Chicken pot pie does sound really good.”
“I’ll make us some cookies after, too.”
“Well, I definitely can’t say no to cookies.”
She grins at me, her face glowing, and I swear I feel my heart melt like butter in my chest.