27. Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Seven
E mma
My mind and soul whirl as Declan kisses me. He picks me up effortlessly by the waist and places me on the counter by the sink. I wrap my hand around his neck accepting the ferocity of his kiss, even though I’m not sure what’s going on.
All I know is that something about this kiss is different from all the other ones.
There’s an edge of desperation to it, as if he’s fighting with himself. I’m riding the same edge too. Because at the back of my mind, I still feel the fear that pumped through me when I got to my house and saw it destroyed.
Someone broke into my home and destroyed our possessions.
It's crazy to think about, especially given how paranoid I was sleeping alone there.
A part of me assumed that my fear had just been childish and foolish. Perhaps some leftover trauma from living in not the safest part of California and experiencing multiple break-ins.
But this is happening here in my own Laketown, a place that I've always called home, a place where I know pretty much everyone. That added an extra sting that made everything so much worse.
I was thinking about it the whole way back, about who could have done this. I was thinking about it in the bathroom too, before I spaced out.
'Was' being the operative word. I'm not thinking about it anymore.
Right now, I'm not thinking about much but the press of Declan's heated lips on mine, and the hot brush of his tongue.
The taste of him drowns all the bad thoughts out, and I can only focus on the way he makes me feel. Which is really good and really hot.
His skin feels like it’s boiling under my hands as he makes sounds in my mouth. I can feel the heat of his hand on my waist through the shirt. Pretty soon, he sweeps that out of the way too, his touch complete on my skin making it feel like a billion bees are buzzing underneath it.
And then suddenly he drives my thighs wide open, stepping in between them and pressing his erection roughly against my pussy.
It’s my turn to moan in his mouth.
It’s my turn to press against him wildly and kiss him like I know no bounds, like an animal. But then he’s tearing his lips away, his hands hastily trying to peel my pants from my skin, his hot lips on my neck.
"Dad?"
Everything freezes. It takes a second for my mind to reorient to my surroundings and I realize that I’m in the bathroom on the sink. The sound is coming from the other side of the door and it sounds like Amelia.
Shit.
My panicked eyes meet Declan's much steadier gaze. His face is grim, but desire still swims in his eyes. Somehow, he still has the presence of mind to call out.
"Give me a minute, Amelia. I’m coming out."
His voice is gruff, but it sounds normal enough. Convincing enough to have Amelia step away and give her father a second to arrange himself and come up with a reason why he’s in the bathroom with me. Or maybe he can step out and pull her aside, while I sneak off and pretend that I was just in my bedroom or something.
Yeah not the best plan, but I’m not working with a full set of screws right now.
And then Amelia dashes all my hopes of mescape when she says, "Emma is in there with you, isn't she?"
It’s like someone blasted a cannon of extra-strength awkwardness into the silence. Declan’s shoulders visibly tense and his eyes meet mine. Double shit.
I know he never wanted his daughter to find out anything that was going on between us. I didn’t want it either. I don't want to hurt Amelia and I also value her friendship so much that this almost feels like I'm betraying her in some way.
Isn’t it?
I'm hooking up with her dad behind her back and now she just caught me. It’s ridiculous to feel called out by a teenager but that’s how I feel right now.
"I know what you two are doing in there," Amelia says. "I’m not stupid."
Declan’s eyes slide closed and the expression on his face clearly spells out his regret. The sentiment echoes inside me. Even if we were going to tell Amelia about the relationship, this isn’t how I wanted her to find out.
"Amelia, just give me a moment."
"Don't you mean 'give us a moment'?" she asks. "There’s no use denying it. I know you and Emma were in there making out."
"Amelia…" Declan’s voice lingers and he looks like he's at the end of his ropes. "Just...please."
Amelia taps her foot on the floorboard several times before she answers. "Fine." Her footsteps get farther and farther away until we hear a door close. I assume she’s gone to her room.
Only then does Declan’s shoulders sag and his head drops to my shoulders. "Shit."
"Sorry," I say.
His eyes meet mine again. "Why? This isn’t your fault."
I shrug. "It kinda feels like it is. I shouldn't have been in here kissing you."
"I kissed you. I was the careless one. I completely forgot she was supposed to be home soon. I lost my mind when I–"
He doesn’t complete the sentence, but I know what he’s talking about. I kind of lost my mind when he kissed me too. But that’s normal for us, I guess.
It might not be love, but whatever we feel for each other is certainly stronger than our self-control.
We stare into each other’s eyes for a few seconds, and I ask, "Then what do we do now?"
He runs a hand roughly through his hair. "I’m going to talk to her."
He retreats and my body instantly protests the loss of body heat as he turns around and leaves abruptly. I take a deep breath and right my clothes, before I follow him in time to see him knocking on Amelia’s door.
"I’m coming in," he says and opens the door. I stand behind at the edge of the living room...not wanting to intrude...but still wanting to be close in case he needs my support to corroborate a lie.
He glances at me briefly but says nothing and leaves the door open.
Amelia is on her bed eyeing us with an uncomfortable expression.
"What is going on between you two?" she asks. "Are you dating or something?"
I share a look with Declan. Now comes the complicated part. Because what we’re doing isn’t exactly dating. But there’s no way to tell his teenage daughter that we have a completely sexual relationship either.
"Or something," Declan finally answers. "We’re still getting to know each other."
"That’s what you were doing in the bathroom? Getting to know each other?" Her tone has a hint of humor in it. And if I didn’t know any better, I would think that the back of Delan’s neck was getting a little red.
"Fine. I guess you could say we’re dating," he surprises me by admitting.
"Oh," Amelia says, the smile disappearing from her eyes.
"How do you feel about it?" I ask anxiously.
She purses her lips as she thinks about it and then says, "I don’t know. It’s a little weird because I haven’t seen Dad date anyone before. And you’re younger than him…"
"Not by that much," I clarify. I'm not sure how old Declan is, but I'm guessing he's in his late thirties, and I'm in my mid-twenties. Even though a twelve-year age difference would be a lot to certain people, it doesn't feel that way with Declan and me. "I'm older than I look. And I really do care about your dad. And you."
"Yeah?" Amelia considers it for a few more seconds and then says, "Well, I guess it’s fine, then. As long as the two of you don’t make kissy faces at each other through dinner and stuff."
"No, we won’t," I say. "I swear."
She nods, but Declan doesn’t turn around. Instead, he says, "Can you give us a second, Emma?"
"Sure," I say. I close the door behind him as I leave. I know he wants to talk to Amelia privately to get her true feelings about our relationship. I don't take offense at it. I'm kind of relieved to be done with the conversation actually.
Meanwhile, I press my hands against my heated cheeks and head back to the living room, collapsing on a sectional.
Only then do I realize that someone is sitting on the couch already, a young petite blonde woman. Sandy, I'm guessing.
She waves awkwardly and I wave back just as awkwardly.
Great. More audience to this embarrassment.
"For what it’s worth," she says as I lean back. "I don’t blame you. Mr. Tudor is a certified hottie."
I groan and shut my eyes to the sound of her giggle.
The next day, Declan and I head back to the cottage to pack up some of my clothes, before returning to the Marriott. He insists on driving me there, even though I know he’s busy with renovations.
"Until I can get a security team down here, I'm not comfortable with you moving around on your own," he says as he drives.
"I don't think a security team is necessary. I'm really okay."
He shakes his head, not budging.
I roll my eyes about how excessive he's being, but secretly, his protectiveness makes me a little hot.
It also relieves me a lot to know someone like Declan is watching out for me.
"I hope that bastard didn't touch my artwork," I murmur, suddenly remembering the few paintings I have stowed away in my closet.
"You have some more art pieces in your house?" Interest suddenly lights up Declan's tone.
"A few."
He muses quietly for a few seconds, then asks, "Have you ever thought about selling any of them?"
I sigh. "Once upon a time. But not anymore."
"Why not?"
I shrug. "I don't really paint enough to make it into a career."
"Why don't you? I thought you loved painting."
"Yeah, I just grew out of it I guess."
He glances at me, and I immediately look out the window, avoiding his eyes. I don't know if he can tell I'm lying, but I really don't want to talk about that right now, on top of everything else.
We soon arrive at my home and find Rick's truck in the driveway. The man himself stands with crossed arms on the porch.
Shit. I forgot to call Rick and tell him I couldn't make it to my shift yesterday.
I was spaced out for most of the day, and went to bed early, encased in Declan's arms.
Very irresponsible of me, considering that I'm supposed to be helping him run the place.
"What the hell is happening?" Rick frowns as I approach. "You don't show up for work, and then when I come looking for you, your house is a wreck."
"I'm sorry, Rick. I forgot to call you." I sigh. "Someone broke in."
His voice changes from censure immediately to concern. "What? Why?"
"I don't know." I shrug. "The police don't have any clues yet. Declan and I just came to pick up some stuff for me to wear for the next few days."
"I hope you're not thinking of staying here. Come on, you can stay with me."
"Um, no that's not necessary. I'll just stay at the hotel."
"I got her a room there," Declan explains and Rick frowns even deeper. He doesn't like that idea one bit. He also looks like he's in his lecturing mood, so I choose to make my escape now.
"I'm going to go upstairs to grab some stuff. Declan will explain everything to you."
I throw Declan an apologetic look as I hurry inside, picking my feet up gingerly to avoid the debris on the floor. I feel a little sorry for leaving Declan to deal with Rick, but he'll probably be better at it than me.
For some reason, arguing with Rick always feels like I'm arguing with a dad and I can never quite stand up to him, so I always end up going along with what he says.
But I don't want to stay with Rick. He lives in a cramped little lodge far from civilization, and his home smells like fish and men's sweat.
I head up to my room, noting from the entrance that the intruder tore it apart too. My mattress is on the floor, my dresser emptied and thrown over, the closet door ripped off the hinges.
Unexpected emotion lodges in my throat, seeing my room like this.
I've had the same room since I was a little girl, with a few upgrades in the design over the years. The pink walls have been there forever, but I painted unicorns around the bay window when I was twelve. At fifteen, I put up a whole bunch of boy band posters over my bed. And when I was sixteen, I repainted the corner white, and Tate and I posted a bunch of sticky notes with affirmations on them.
And now, it feels like some destructive maniac has invaded my safe space.
I take a deep breath, holding back the tears, and take a duffel bag out of the closet. I start picking up some of the clothes from the floor, getting into the groove of it, and letting time pass by.
But barely ten minutes later, my room door opens up again.
Declan briefly scans the floor and then his eyes meet mine. Tension grips his jaw.
"We have to go," he says.
"What? Why?"
"Someone broke into my office, too."