7. Margot

7

MARGOT

How the heck did I land myself in this situation? I’ve been trying to avoid getting too close to Declan, and now I’m staying for dinner at his cabin while wearing a blanket instead of pants. I should have refused, but I couldn’t resist. Being around Declan makes me feel so alive, so warm…and I’m scared to figure out what that means.

At least my clothes and shoes are dry now, so I can put my pants back on. I get dressed in the bathroom before heading back to the living room and curling up in the armchair. I asked Declan if he wanted help making dinner, but he insisted I stay by the fire to keep warm. My body is finally starting to feel normal again after nearly drowning in an icy lake, and I know I owe Declan my life. Maybe that’s why I’m finding myself opening up to him. All the things I was so careful not to say before seem to be pouring out of me like water. I guess near-death experiences do that to you.

“You want another hot chocolate?” Declan calls from the kitchen.

“No thanks, I’m good!”

The scent of chicken pot pie is wafting toward me, making my tummy rumble. It smells amazing, and I take a seat at the table by the window. The sky outside is almost black now, but I can make out the shadowy Christmas trees and the glint of the frozen lake in the moonlight. The view must be breathtaking in the daytime.

Declan’s cabin is even more beautiful inside than outside. I barely took it all in before, when I was still drenched in lake water, but now I look around appreciatively at the squashy armchairs and rustic furniture. It’s all warm colors—reds, oranges, browns—and the effect is insanely cozy, like a fairytale cottage. Photos of his parents line the mantel, and I feel a rush of sympathy and affection for this gruff-looking lumberjack who’s really just a family man with a heart of gold.

Crap, I definitely shouldn’t be thinking things like that.

I take a deep breath, trying to clear my head, focusing on the sounds of Declan clattering around in the kitchen. But then I remember how it felt to hug him. How his muscular arms wrapped around me, holding me like he never wanted to let go. Like I was the only thing that mattered. His chest was so strong, hard as rock. Safe. He felt safe. But love is never safe. There are always risks. I know that…so why is it getting harder to hold myself back? Why is my body crying out for Declan’s touch?

The kitchen door opens, pulling me from my thoughts as Declan carries out several dishes, including a steaming golden pie. It smells like heaven. He cuts me a generous slice, and I ladle mashed potato and roasted veggies onto my plate.

“This looks amazing,” I say, taking a bite. The pie is delicious—flaky and creamy, the perfect comfort food. “It tastes amazing too.”

Declan smiles at me. “Glad you like it. I can’t take the credit, though. It’s my mom’s old recipe.”

He takes a seat across from me, his legs brushing against mine beneath the table. It’s enough to push everything else from my mind, and I’m hyperaware of every movement, every tiny bit of contact. Tension hangs in the air between us, descending like fog over the table as we eat. Something has shifted ever since I opened up to Declan—ever since I wrapped my arms around his thick, muscular body. That tiny moment changed everything.

“There’s something I want to ask you,” he says from across the table. His eyes are fixed on me, burning my skin, and it takes a few moments to find my voice.

“Yes?”

He leans back in his chair, considering me for a moment. “Why didn’t you talk about yourself before? What was stopping you?”

My mouth goes dry. I keep my gaze on my plate and shrug. “I’m just not great at meeting new people.”

“Margot.”

My name sounds delicious in that deep, growly voice, but I still can’t bring myself to meet his gaze. “Yes?”

“Look at me.”

I do as he says, taking in his rugged face, his thick beard, and those eyes…they’re full of so much warmth and affection.

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” he says. His tone isn’t mad or accusatory. It’s earnest, serious, like he’s desperate to know what’s going on in my head.

I set down my knife and fork, my face heating. “I…I just didn’t think it was a good idea for us to get too close.”

“Why not?” he asks without missing a beat.

“Because I was worried I might start to fall for you.”

Something flickers in Declan’s expression. “Would that be a bad thing?”

“Yes, it would.” I chew my lip, feeling naked and exposed beneath his gaze. “I’ve seen what happens when people get into relationships. Everything is wonderful at first. Then slowly the resentments build up. The arguments…the finger-pointing… until eventually, they can’t even bear to be in the same room as one another.”

Declan nods. “Your parents?—”

“It’s not just my parents,” I say quickly. “People break up all the time. Or worse, they stay in unhappy relationships while hating each other. Maybe there are some exceptions, a few genuine happily ever afters. But the odds are pretty crappy.”

Even as I say the words, Declan’s knee bumps against mine, making my pulse flutter wildly. It’s maddening. My head is telling me one thing, but the rest of my body wants something entirely different.

“You don’t think it’s worth the risk?” he asks quietly.

I shake my head, but Declan senses my hesitation. He gets up from the table and sits on the chair beside mine. His thumb hooks beneath my chin, forcing me to look up at him. We’re sitting so close that I can see the flecks of gold in his brown eyes, the strands of silver threaded through his beard. He’s so much older than me, but the rugged maturity only adds to his sexiness, and oh God, I want him so badly it hurts.

“I think you’re worth the risk, Margot,” he says quietly. “Fuck, I’d risk it all for you.”

My thoughts turn to mist, everything melting away as Declan leans in toward me.

I’d risk it all for you.

His words echo inside my head, zipping through my veins. I don’t think. I just let myself fall into him, drinking in his woodsy scent as his hand cups my cheek. His lips crash against mine, kissing me fiercely, passionately. Red-hot desire sizzles between my legs as our teeth clash, hands grabbing urgently at each other, the floodgates bursting open. All the tension that’s been building between us is finally flowing freely, and I moan as Declan’s tongue glides against mine, musk and cocoa. I kiss him back, losing myself in his taste, the scratch of his beard against my chin making me shiver.

No…

A voice in the back of my head is stirring, and I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping it will go away.

NO.

I freeze, my hands going slack on Declan’s shoulders as I come back to myself, panic squeezing me tight.

What am I doing?

I jerk away, breathing hard. My heart is beating so fast I think I might faint as I turn my face away from Declan. It feels like somebody just dumped a bucket of icy lake water over me, and I swallow down the rising emotion in my throat, willing myself not to cry. I’ve spent my whole life keeping my heart safe, protecting myself from this exact situation. I can’t do this. Not now, not ever. No matter how much I want Declan, no matter how good he makes me feel, no matter how much I love being around him…none of it matters.

Because there won’t be a happy ending.

There never is.

“I should go,” I say, my voice so low it’s almost a whisper. My lips still burn where Declan kissed them, and I get up, taking a step toward the door. “Thank you for dinner. And for…for everything.”

“Margot—”

“I’m sorry, Declan. You deserve better.”

Before he can stop me, I hurry out of the cabin and into the dark November night. Holding up my phone’s flashlight, I run over the bridge and through the Christmas trees, past the barn and toward my waiting car. I taste salt on my lips, tears dripping down my face as I drive away from the Christmas tree farm and head for my mom’s house. I can’t face being alone right now. My heart aches the farther I drive from Declan, but I know it’s my head I need to listen to this time. No matter how much it hurts.

“Honey, slow down,” my mom says, holding up her hand. “I can’t keep up.”

I’m sitting on the couch in the living room of my childhood home, but it has changed beyond recognition over the past few months. The smiling family photos are all gone, and so is half the furniture.

“I met somebody,” I tell her again, the words coming out in a rush. “And I promised myself I wouldn’t fall for him, but I did, and now everything is such a mess.”

The tears fall before I can stop them, and my mom holds me close, rocking me as I cry. It’s a role reversal that I’m not used to, but I let myself be held, finally letting all my frustrations pour down my cheeks.

“Tell me everything,” my mom murmurs soothingly. “Start from the beginning.”

So I do. I tell her everything I’ve been bottling up: Freya moving out, the landlord raising the rent, needing another job, meeting Declan. My mom doesn’t interrupt. She just listens, stroking my hair as I let it all out.

“He makes me so happy, Mom. I love being around him, but I don’t want my heart broken.” I wipe the tears from my cheeks, my voice thick. “After what happened with you and dad, I…I don’t want that for myself. It’s more than I could handle.”

“Oh, Margot.” My mom tightens her arms around me, exhaling. “I’m sorry, baby. This is my fault. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own emotions about the divorce that I wasn’t thinking about how it must affect you.”

“It’s okay. You have a lot to deal with, and I know it’s been really hard for you. But that’s exactly why I don’t want to risk my heart. I never want to go through what you and dad are going through.” I rest my head on her shoulder. “You must regret ever meeting him.”

My mom pulls back to look at me, and I’m surprised by the seriousness on her face as she says, “Of course I don’t regret it.”

I frown. “But you and dad hate each other?”

Mom shakes her head. “Honey, your dad and I had some wonderful years together. We had you!”

“But—”

She holds her hand up, silently cutting me off. “Listen to me, Margot. You can’t spend your life worrying about what might happen in the future. Sure, your dad and I didn’t work out, but that doesn’t take away from the good times. And just because our happily ever after didn’t last forever doesn’t mean yours won’t.”

I swallow hard, running her words over in my mind. “I just don’t think I’m strong enough to take the risk.”

“Life’s a risk, Margot. If you never take risks, you never get the amazing rewards that come from falling in love with somebody.” She takes my hands in hers, squeezing tight. “You’re stronger than you think. Heck, nobody thinks they can handle these things…divorce, bereavement, illness…but people do it every day, baby. If you spend your whole life hiding from the rain, you’ll never get to see the sunshine.”

I blink at her, and her face splits into a smile as she says, “I got that last bit from an Instagram post, but the point still stands.”

Suddenly, I’m laughing and crying all at once. A million emotions are raging through me, but all that matters is that deep down, I know my mom is right. I told myself I was protecting my heart, and maybe I even believed that. But really, I was letting fear control me. And that’s no way to live.

“Thank you, Mom,” I tell her, squeezing her tight. “I love you.”

“I love you too, honey.” She looks guilty as she adds, “Don’t worry about me and your dad. I’ll talk to him. We both need to be reminded that this divorce doesn’t only affect us.”

I nod. “It’s not just for me. I think you’d both feel a lot better about things if it wasn’t all so…”

“Petty? Nasty? Stupid? There are plenty of words for it.” She chuckles wryly. “We’ll figure it out. Now get out of here! Go get your man.”

I’m already standing up, grabbing my keys. My mom waves me off as I get in my car and drive back toward Declan’s cabin, my heart in my throat. I never should have run away like that. It was dumb and cowardly, and now I just have to hope that the man of my dreams will accept my apology.

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