18. Declan Foster
18
DECLAN FOSTER
“I think I’m having second thoughts.”
I hated myself for even uttering those words out loud, but every moment that ticked by made the overwhelming panic inside me grow. And I never panicked. No matter the situation. I was a solid, unshakable rock.
Sebastian scrubbed a hand over his face before he shifted forward in his chair to rest his arms on his desk. “Second thoughts? About Parker?”
“Yes. I mean no.”
“Which is it?” Sebastian’s tone jumped in pitch as if he were panicking with me. “Because he’s supposed to be arriving in like twenty minutes for your date, right?”
“I’m not having second thoughts about Parker. Never.”
“Then…”
I sighed and slumped deeper in the chair opposite Sebastian’s desk. It was just after six in the evening. Most people had left the building, heading to their homes. Parker was supposed to meet me at the office at six thirty and we’d walk together to the restaurant for our six forty-five dinner reservations.
But after five thirty, I’d rushed up to Sebastian’s office for a pep talk and a reality check .
“I’m worried about this dating idea I had. Why should we date? He’s already living with me. I should propose.”
“That might be fast. Dating is good.”
“But it means we have to talk. I…don’t talk.”
Sebastian huffed and gave me his exasperated look. “You don’t talk at home?”
“He does most of the talking, and it’s usually about Joy. Sometimes I talk about work.”
Sebastian snatched up his phone and started dialing. “I’m going to need some backup.”
Within a couple of minutes, he’d conferenced in Pierce and Rome, placing them on speaker so we could both hear them.
“Please don’t tell me this call is to brag that you’re getting hot sex whenever you want,” Rome grumbled. There was a short ticking sound that shut off again. His turn signal. He was driving home.
I might have smirked.
Sebastian winked at me. “Actually, Dec has his first real date with Parker in about fifteen minutes, and he’s worried about talking to him.”
It was no mystery why Sebastian had called for help. The man had never had trouble talking to someone in his life. He couldn’t relate to my problem in the least. On the other hand, Pierce was reserved, and even Rome had his quiet moments.
“So, you’re getting serious about the single dad?” Pierce inquired.
“Yes.”
“Nice,” Rome murmured. “He’s funny. You’ve got this.”
“The important thing is to learn more about each other. The easiest place to begin is his family,” Pierce stated.
Rome snorted. “Easiest and most dangerous. How do you know he doesn’t have a shit relationship with his family?”
“He’s talked about them a little. I don’t think he does,” I offered .
“There. Ask about his family. Are they local? Is he from around here? Does he have siblings? What was his life like growing up? Hell, if he’s got a lot of family, that conversation right there could fill your entire night,” Sebastian offered.
“Besides, even if it’s not all good, you need to share the good and bad with him.” There was a tapping noise and Pierce’s voice sounded louder, as if he leaned close to his phone. I could easily imagine him still in his office, just like Sebastian. “If you’re officially dating this guy now after all this time, I imagine you’re trying to show you’re serious.”
“I am. I want more than…friends with benefits,” I admitted awkwardly.
“So yeah, I think you can ask about his family, but you need to answer his questions, too.”
“More than one-word answers,” Rome interjected.
I wanted to snap at him that I knew that, but he was right. Short, succinct answers were my bread and butter. There was no relying on nods and grunts if I wanted to keep the conversation from dying off.
“Besides the family thing, you can ask about his interests and what he’s passionate about. Byron mentioned that he’s an artist,” Pierce continued.
Rome let out a laugh. “You don’t get into art if you’re indifferent to it.”
“Oh, that’s good,” Sebastian agreed, wagging one finger at the phone. “Ask him about his art. How he got started? Why does he paint murals rather than other mediums like sculpting?”
I shoved out of the seat and leaned over Sebastian’s desk, snatching up one of his pens and a pad of sticky notes. Using the edge of his desk, I made notes of some ideas they’d come up with so far.
“What else?” I asked as I prepared for the next line on my list.
“I guess you could ask about school or other hobbies. Favorite movies,” Sebastian replied, though he didn’t sound as confident about those items.
“Man, you don’t need to stress. Parker is totally into you.”
“I know.”
“I’m serious!” A short blast from his car horn punctuated his words. “Shit! Didn’t mean to do that. But think about it. He looked like he was going to rip my head off for teasing you about smiling. He wouldn’t be that protective if he didn’t care.”
“You’ve got this,” Pierce chimed in.
“Thanks. This has helped.”
Sebastian ended the call a minute later and sat back in his chair with a knowing grin. “You’re worrying about nothing. This isn’t a first date with a stranger. It’s a first date with a guy you’ve known for months now. He is aware of exactly how talkative you are.”
“Yeah, but it’s not enough to get him to agree to a second date. I want to close the deal on this. I want him…to be mine .”
“You’ll get there.”
Notes were great when you could look at them without the other person noticing.
After we placed our orders and our drinks arrived, silence settled over our table. The panic I’d shoved aside returned with a vengeance, washing my mind blank of all the topics I’d discussed with Sebastian and the others. Of course, now I couldn’t figure out how to get the bright-yellow sticky note out of my pocket without him noticing.
“Declan.” A hint of amusement colored Parker’s voice and my head snapped up to find him grinning at me. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you’re nervous.”
“No,” I lied automatically.
“You’re stiff as a statue and barely breathing. You’ve also been staring at your water for the past minute like you’re waiting for it to tell you what to say.”
Well, that was painfully accurate.
Parker leaned forward and reached across the table, but his hand landed two inches from mine. Close and reassuring, but not touching. “You know me. There’s nothing to be nervous about.”
“Except we don’t know each other that well. What if you learn all my weird quirks and idiosyncrasies and decide that you don’t actually like me any longer? You’ll move out, and we won’t speak.”
Parker’s lips twitched as if he were fighting a laugh, but his voice was neutral when he replied, “I think that is highly unlikely.”
“Okay. How about public displays of affection? Are you against them?” As I asked, I gazed at the hand so close to my own.
Parker lifted his fingers and stretched to rest them over mine. “No, I don’t mind some mild PDA like handholding, leaning, or even small kisses. No different from most adult straight couples. I have no interest in putting on a show or making a political statement, nor am I a teenager anymore. What about you?”
“Same as long as the setting is appropriate. Like not at work.”
Parker’s eyes widened and his fingers shifted to thread with mine. “Really? So if your husband showed up at work one day to drop off your lunch, you’d let him leave without a quick ‘thank-you’ kiss?”
The vivid scene played through my mind with Parker strolling through the office in his jeans and paint-splatted T-shirt, Joy on one hip and a lunch bag prepared by Chef Donovan in the other hand. To hell with decorum. I’d kiss the shit out of Parker in front of the entire department and then blow a raspberry on Joy’s cheek until she giggled. Let them all be jealous.
“There might be some exceptions to that rule,” I hedged.
“Good call,” he teased. “What else you got for me?”
Because Parker and I had always been forthright about things with each other. “I talked about our date with Sebastian, Pierce, and Rome. I have a list.”
The crazy artist lit up and even scooted closer in his seat. “Seriously? Like on paper?”
I nodded and released his hand so I could dig through my pockets until I finally located the sticky note. With a look of worry, I handed it to him.
His pale-gray eyes read over it, and he nodded the entire time. “Yep, this all seems about normal.” He handed it back with a smile. “We can start with the first one. My family. Both of my parents are alive and still married to each other. My dad’s name is Lester and my mom’s is Lenore, but most everyone calls her Lenny. I have an older brother named Jack and two younger sisters, Barbara and Eileen.” He leaned in and lowered his voice as if he were telling a secret. “Eileen was named after my maternal grandmother, who we all adore, but my sister hates her name. I grew up calling her Bug, which she hates or loves on any given day based on her mood.”
“Why do you call her Bug?”
“My mom called her Snuggle Bug or Cuddle Bug when she was a baby, and it got shortened by the rest of us to Bug. Barbara is usually Barb, but sometimes it’s Barbie. Dad calls her Pumpkin. Jack is three years older than me and Barb is two years younger, which means that Jack picked on me growing up, and then I got to pick on Barb. However, there are eight years between me and Bug—she was very unexpected—and it was my job to help take care of her.”
“How old is…Bug?” I asked, the nickname getting stuck on my tongue. It was definitely a strange thing to call a young woman .
“Nineteen. She’s starting her second year at Berkley, which my parents aren’t thrilled about. They would have rather she stayed in Arizona, but they’ve still got Jack and Barb there. They’re probably afraid she’s going to follow in my footsteps and move away after college.”
I stared at my water, trying to soak in all this information that was hitting me. Some of it seemed familiar, like he’d mentioned that he was originally from Arizona.
“She’s nineteen. That means you’re…twenty-seven?” I said as I ran the math again. How had I never asked his age before? Not even once during the past year.
“Yep, born on February eighteenth. Aquarius. What about you? How old are you? I know you’ve got to be older than me.”
I straightened in my seat, and I’d swear that my brain blanked on my own damn age. But it reappeared and I blurted out, “Thirty-five.”
“Ooooh…eight-year gap. Sexy older man. No wonder you’re so good at taking care of me. When’s your birthday?”
“January fourteenth.”
Parker immediately pulled out his phone and began typing.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m adding it to my calendar. My memory is shit, and I don’t want to forget this,” he answered without even looking up.
My heart flopped a little in my chest, and I momentarily worried that I was having a heart attack. The only person who went out of his way to remember my birthday was Sebastian, but Parker was making sure he could celebrate it. While I was pretty sure I would never forget it, I also pulled out my phone and added Parker’s birthday to my calendar. It was still over five months away, but was there an actual chance I could plan something for his birthday? A party? An extravagant gift?
“Funny enough, Joy was born on February twenty-first, just three days after my birthday, which makes it so much easier to remember. I teased Molly about her thoughtful planning and how she’d been trying to give birth on my birthday so she’d have to remember only one date. She was freaking horrible about remembering dates and appointments. She always got me a card or a gift, but I swear it was at least a day late every time.” Parker’s voice grew husky and wobbled slightly toward the end. His smile grew brittle as he continued to clutch his phone with both hands, but not typing on it.
“We should throw a big party for Joy’s first birthday. We can invite your family and Molly’s family here for the party. Your family can even come a few days early so they can celebrate your birthday. If we plan now, we’ll have time to gather pictures of Molly to put together in an album for Joy. She’ll want something like that as she gets older.”
I’d barely finished talking when Parker shoved to his feet, the wooden legs of the chair loudly scraping along the floor. He stepped around the table to stand beside me. I shifted in my seat, preparing to stand as well, my heart hammering because I wasn’t quite sure what I’d said to make him act so suddenly. But I never reached my feet. Parker cupped my face with both hands and captured my mouth in a soft kiss that completely locked up my brain.
He broke off the kiss but remained bent over. His longish hair had fallen forward to frame his face, nearly hiding us from view, but I could see a sparkle of unshed tears in his pale eyes.
“Sometimes I break my own PDA rules when someone says something so wonderful, I can’t stop myself.”
I was enchanted. I wanted to wrap him in my arms and pull him into my lap, although he was taller than me and we were in the middle of a restaurant. Maybe I should postpone this date and take him home right now for more tender kisses.
Unfortunately, someone close by loudly cleared their throat. Parker released me and we looked at the same time to find our server standing a few feet away with a tray of our food.
“Sorry about that. He had an eyelash in his eye. We got it,” Parker cheerfully said before dropping into his seat.
“Not a problem,” our server stated as he placed my rib eye in front of me while Parker got the prime rib.
“Oh damn, this smells amazing.”
I grunted in agreement as I picked up my utensils. “This is the only restaurant I’ve found that does a prime rib better than Chef Donovan.”
“No!” Parker gasped.
“Not that I would ever tell him that. I’m afraid it would break his heart. He’s top notch in everything else.”
Parker ate his first bite and moaned, his eyes rolling back into his head. “Oh, God. This…this is amazing. I’m glad Donovan can’t make it better, because I don’t think I’d survive it. Soooo good.”
We ate in silence for several minutes, simply enjoying our meal. The Avenue was a restaurant I frequented with Sebastian at least once a month for a long lunch. It had an Old World feel with dark woods, heavy leather furniture, elegant rugs, and classic oil paintings on the walls. It was as if someone had transplanted an English gentleman’s club from the Victorian era. The tables were also widely spaced, so you didn’t get the feel of being crammed into a small space with a bunch of people. Low conversation and classical music filled the air, allowing you to speak to the person across from you without shouting.
“I feel like I’ve babbled about my family this entire time. What about you and your family? Are your parents still around? Do you have siblings? Are you close?” Parker fired one question at me after another as he continued to cut into his meat.
My own hands stilled as I stared at my grilled asparagus stalks. “My family… ”
“Declan, stop.”
My head snapped up to find Parker glaring at me. “You don’t have to answer any questions if you’re not comfortable.”
“No. That’s not it. There isn’t much to tell. My mom died shortly after I was born. I never knew her. My family was always well-off. A nanny raised me until I was about ten. My father’s name is Howard, and he’s still alive…I believe. I haven’t spoken to him since I finished college. I have no siblings.”
Parker’s happiness dimmed before my eyes. His shoulders slumped, and a furrow formed on his brow that I immediately wanted to smooth with my thumb. “I’m sorry. That sounds…lonely.”
“My father was cold and distant. He believed in order and strict rules. No messes. No loud noises. Meals were always at the same time with a minimum of flavor. I don’t think he wanted a child. Just a son to carry on the family name.”
As I spoke, an old memory popped up in my mind of the time during elementary school that I’d won first place in a mathematics competition. It had also been the first year without having my nanny there to herd me away from my father. I’d thought earning a big blue ribbon in something respectable like math would earn his approval. It wasn’t as if I’d earned it for something he didn’t value such as being able to run fast or drawing well. This was math . Cold, hard, logical math.
My heart had pounded so hard in my chest, it was nearly shaking my entire slender frame by the time I’d worked up the courage to knock on my father’s study door.
He beckoned me inside with his low, stern voice and I almost froze in the hall. I walked in and stood in front of his desk, my spine and shoulders straight. My ribbon held in my trembling hand, I quickly told him about the competition and how I’d come in first ahead of all the other kids in my grade. He didn’t even blink. Just stared at me with those dead, cold eyes. Seconds ticked by and I regretted every word out of my mouth, the decision to see him, possibly even my birth.
After what felt like minutes, Howard grunted and lowered his eyes back to his book. “Next time you wish to speak with me, submit a request in writing detailing your reason before coming to my study. I don’t have time to waste on your nonsense. You’re dismissed.”
I scurried out of the room after a soft “Yes, sir,” feeling like an unwanted fool.
That was the last time I’d ever sought him out or tried to share some bit of my life with him. From that day on, we’d been two strangers living in the same house. After graduating high school, I’d immediately moved out and had only spoken to him once after graduating college. Despite the distance I’d put between us, I’d never been able to shake the fear that I would one day turn into him.
“Yep. My first instinct was correct.”
I blinked at Parker as if coming out of a trance. Thinking about my father and my childhood always seemed to wrap me in a block of ice that felt impossible to escape. But Parker had pulled me free with a sentence. “What?”
“When you first mentioned that your father was cold toward you, I’d wanted to kick him in the balls. Now I really want to kick him.”
A slow smile spread across my lips, and I breathed a deep sigh, as if shedding the last of those old memories. Sebastian was the only one of my friends to have ever met my father. His reaction had been pretty similar to Parker’s.
“There’s no point. He’s not part of my life, and you’ll never have to meet him,” I reassured him.
“Okay, but the offer still stands. I don’t care if he’s a crusty old man. I’ll still kick him square in the nuts.”
I had nothing to say to that, so I returned to eating my steak while a warm feeling spread through my chest. From there, we skipped the rest of my childhood and we turned to talking about college and various other random adventures .
After dinner and a leisurely walk around Fountain Square under the warm glow of the fountain and the bright lights of the surrounding skyscrapers, we returned home, where I followed him up to Joy’s bedroom so we could check on the sleeping angel.
We strolled out together and Parker attempted to pull me to his bedroom with a sexy smirk, but I dug my heels in, not following.
“Huh?” he whispered as he returned to my side.
“Not tonight.”
“Really? You don’t think the perfect date should be capped off with bedtime fun?”
I slid my hand along his jaw and threaded my fingers through his silken hair at the back of his head, pulling him down for a slow, soft kiss that had him melting into me. Normally, nothing could stop me from a night of sex and cuddles with this amazing man.
“Later, but not tonight. I want to show you that I am interested in more than sex with you. I want us to be together. A couple,” I murmured against his lips.
“Declan Foster, you are a very dangerous man,” Parker declared, but he said it with a grin.
“I am when I want something, and what I want right now is more important to me than anything else in the world. Sex can wait.”