Chapter 19 #2
I want to scream that I’m taken, but the man next to me is giving no indication that I can. Another sip of wine calls my name instead.
Ford’s phone dings, and he pulls it out. “Sorry, I need to take this, it’s Brielle. Be right back.” Ford leaves me in the shark tank with the man I want who is emotionally unavailable and a man who wants to date me.
None of us take notice to Ford leaving, instead Carter bounces his gaze between Declan and me.
“What would a first date with you look like?” Declan asks. “Did Ford already check that off his list?” He’s stiff beside me.
Carter smiles and doesn’t seem tense about the atmosphere that could be cut by a knife. I guess the police academy taught him to stay cool under pressure. “I’d probably go traditional. Flowers, dinner, a rowboat out on the lake.”
“She owns a flower shop. What kind of man buys flowers for the woman who sells flowers?” Declan counters.
I roll my eyes, wishing I could be swallowed whole by the ground underneath me.
Carter leans back on the chair. “The kind of man who seems to be more observant than Ford. You obviously feel you have a claim to Violet here. Clearly, something is going on between you two.” Carter doesn’t seem fazed and continues to smile softly.
Declan looks at me with serious eyes, and I know mine are pleading with him… and it’s not to keep our secret, which surprises me.
My brother reappears in my sideview. “Sorry, I need to run. Wyatt isn’t falling asleep, and Brielle is exhausted,” Ford informs us all as he arrives back. He looks up from his phone and notices that the mood has shifted. “Drinks will have to wait. Declan, want to walk with me out?”
Carter cuts in, “You know, I need to run. I got a call from the station.” He begins to stand.
“Oh, that’s a shame. Maybe you two can meet for lunch or something soon,” Ford suggests.
Carter looks at Declan for a few ticks then to me, yet we say nothing. He’s giving us an opportunity to come clean, but we don’t. “See you around, Violet.”
“I’ll call you.” Ford waves goodbye to me. “I’ll settle the bill on my way out. Make sure she’s okay to drive home,” he requests of Declan who nods once.
A few moments later, Declan and I are alone at the table, but I don’t want to talk to him. A fury that I didn’t know was brewing comes to the surface inside of me.
“I’m fine. I didn’t even finish my wine.” I grab my purse and stand. “I’m leaving.”
“Why? You seem angry, when I’m the one who should be pissed.”
Declan trails behind me as we leave the restaurant. Every step adds more power to my mood that’s about to burst if he prods me too hard. All it takes is his hand landing on my elbow when we reach the parking lot, and I turn to face him with complete irritation.
“Why the hell should you be pissed? I had no clue that Ford was trying to set me up. I’m as surprised as anyone that the sheriff was here.”
I notice Declan’s tongue slide inside his mouth as his cheeks heighten. “You could have said you were seeing someone.”
I laugh bitterly. “Is that what we’re doing? Openly admitting this thing between us? Because last time I checked, you didn’t want anything more than casual.”
“We’re not seeing other people,” he points out.
“You could have told them back there that we’re seeing one another, but you didn’t. That just means that you want me to keep being your little secret. I was following your cues,” I bite out and yank my arm from his hold.
I’ve never seen Declan angry except at a hockey game when he wanted to rip out the opposition. But right now, he looks furious, with a touch of disappointment and attachment that it’s me he is dealing with.
“Don’t put this all on me. You’ve also said that we are staying under the radar.
Is that what you want? For me to tell Ford?
Because you know he won’t be thrilled. Even if I said that I would get down on my knee tomorrow with a ring and promise you ten kids, he won’t be excited.
And while I don’t care so much about his opinion, I know you do. ”
I sigh. “But it doesn’t mean that… I think tonight was the realization that you and I are at a crossroads.”
Declan steps forward to rest my hands affectionately in the palm of his. “What does that mean?”
I lick my lips while I try to format my thoughts, as I have many swirling in my head, but then it hits me like lightning. “You’re the guy who doesn’t want a future with anyone, which is almost hysterical, because you’re the guy who made me realize that I’m ready to have a future with someone.”
The lights of the parking lot highlight the invisible punch to his gut as his face drops in sadness. “What are you saying?”
“It’s hard to be casual with you because you give me a hint of what I want,” I admit softly.
Silence overtakes us, and everything feels heavy, or at least my heart sinks to somewhere inside of me where it probably doesn’t belong.
Declan releases an audible breath before he steps forward to kiss my cheek. “Okay, I hear you. I’ll see you tomorrow.” That’s all he says which only infuriates me more.
I need more words from him, to understand where his head is at. Instead, he leaves me cold with no clarification.
My patience for this evening has run out, so I scoff a sound and walk away.
I barely slept last night, yet here I am on a Saturday morning, having managed to smile while I had a few 9am pickups. Even Nugget has left me in silence, probably picking up on my dreadful mood.
Deep inside, I had hoped that Declan would follow me home and confess what he feels. But maybe I have it all wrong. I’m not even sure how we pick up today. We’re at a turning point, which doesn’t feel great because it’s not going to end well for me, but damn, I’ve enjoyed our time together.
My phone rings, and I pick it up when I notice it’s the reception from the Dizzy Duck Inn.
“Hey, Ted, what can I do for your today?” My voice lacks energy, but luckily, we have a good working relationship and are in contact throughout the week, so we’ve both had our bad days shown.
“Hi, Violet, I have a last-minute order from a guest. She would like a bouquet delivered here in town, something masculine, whatever the hell that means.”
I grab a card from the pile. “Okay, what should the card say?”
“‘Thank you for our special night, and I can’t wait for this evening.’”
I frown. At least someone is having a better weekend. “Fine. Sounds romantic. I’ll whip something up and have it delivered by two. Where am I sending it?”
“Apparently, that hockey guy moved into his lake house. Declan Dash.”
My pen freezes on the card, and my world feels like it might break, which means I’m far too emotionally invested in the man who clearly had a great time last night after we argued.
I swallow a cry that wants to escape, say okay to Ted, then hang up and throw my pen across the room, before deciding that I will hand deliver these.