Chapter 17 Declan
DECLAN
“If you continue to fuss over me like I’m a newborn who can’t take care of himself, I will fire you,” I grumble at Maura as she wags the shoulder brace in front of me.
Her eyes turn into slits. “Declan. Andrew. McAlister.”
My stomach tightens as she punctuates my full legal name. Shit. I fucked up.
“Damn, Dec, you’ve really fucked up now.” Aidan cackles, voicing out loud what I’m thinking.
“Did you really just threaten me? The woman who feeds you every night. The woman who nursed you through several hangovers during a rebellious period that well overstayed its welcome? The woman who is on you when you’re sick, and who you beg every time to stay longer because you turn into an absolute baby when your stomach hurts?
” Her words and the sarcasm laced in them get louder and louder with each question.
“I didn’t mean it, I was just being dramatic—”
“Oh no. Don’t you try to take it all back. Maybe you’re right. Maybe you don’t need me. Maybe I’ll just quit and have an early retirement. Lord knows I’ve more than earned my time to relax by the sun, dealing with you two.” She wags the wooden spoon in her hands between Aidan and me.
Aidan throws his hands up in surrender. “Hey! What did I do? I’m just an innocent bystander!”
“Innocent my arse. The reason I have so many greys is because of you.” Maura rolls her eyes before walking away from the kitchen. “I’ll just go ahead and pack my bags now since I’m not needed here.”
“Declan. C’mon, man, do something. You know damn well the place would cave in on itself without her.” Aidan’s panic is as pathetic as it is endearing at this moment.
“She’s just bluffing. And trying to make a point.” I huff, crossing my arms across my chest and refusing to acknowledge the twinge of pain in my shoulder that follows.
“Well, she can take all my money with that poker face she’s rocking. Plus, that doesn’t sound like a bluff to me.” Aidan nods his head to Maura’s room, and the creaking sound of wooden drawers being thrown open, followed by the sharp, aggressive unzipping of her suitcase.
Christ. I had really hurt her feelings this time. Great job, Declan. This is exactly what you needed on top of the never-ending list of problems on your to-do list.
Taking a deep breath, I take a few strides down the hall until I’m standing in the doorway of Maura’s room. “What are you doing?”
She clicks her tongue. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m moving out. Should be done in the next hour. After that, I’m heading straight to Cabo.”
“Cabo, huh? It’s pretty sunny there,” I note.
“I’m well aware. I’ve packed extra sunscreen,” she practically growls as she slams one of her suitcases shut.
“You hate the sun. Every time the clouds clear, you practically curse at the sky and do a rain dance for them to return.” I smirk.
“Maybe it’s not the sun I want to curse at. Maybe it’s the arrogant and unappreciative boys that I had to care for like my own. But I suppose that’s never how they viewed me. I was just the housekeeper to them,” she bites back.
Ah. So that’s what this is about. Fuck. I meant my comments about firing her in jest because I wanted to stop worrying about me, but I couldn’t fault her for taking it personally. Especially since I know I’ve been particularly grouchy these past few weeks.
I step into her room and close the door behind us. “You’re right. I’m sorry. You do so much for us, and the least I can do is say thank you.”
Her back stiffens but she doesn’t turn, refusing to look at me. Bile fills my stomach. I hate seeing her this upset. “You don’t have to console me. I won’t really quit.”
“I know.” I move forward so I’m standing next to her. “Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t. Because you’re not the type of person to quit on your family. And that’s what we are.”
Her eyes shut as a small smile creeps onto her face. “Family.”
“So you’ll accept my apology?”
“I will. As long as you put this brace on your shoulder and keep it on until I see fit. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how you wince every time you move your right arm.” She smirks, grabbing the fabric laid on her bed and tossing it into my chest.
My jaw falls open as her smirk turns into a grin and she breaks out into a cackle. She fucking played me.
“Conniving woman,” I grumble under my breath, adjusting my brace to fit snugly onto my arm.
“What was that?” Maura chides, wooden spoon back in her raised hand like she’s ready to smack me with it.
“Nothing, nothing. You know Declan always had a strange habit of talking to himself…” Aidan pauses to twirl his index finger by his temple and side-eyeing me. Great, first I was the asshole older brother, and now I’m crazy.
Maura rolls her eyes and turns on the gas stove, getting to work on whipping up breakfast. My mouth starts to water as the scent of bacon grease, cheese, and eggs fills the kitchen.
“So, when are Zahra and co. arriving?” Aidan steals a slice of bacon from the pan, tossing it in his mouth.
I wince, glancing at my watch. “Shit, I totally lost track of time. Should be in ten minutes. Fifteen tops. Would it be weird if we all met in the living room?”
“Why can’t we meet in your office?”
“Because it’s a mess,” I declare. I had planned on cleaning it up a bit this morning, but Maura’s fussing and subsequent successful attempt at getting me to wear my brace threw me off.
“....and?” Aidan cocks his head, confused.
“And what message would it say to our allies if they see my office a mess?”
“That you’re a human being who just got shot and maybe didn’t have time to throw out his recycling?” Aidan teases.
“Or maybe that I’m a lazy slob who doesn’t know how to take care of himself,” I correct, irritation growing as my brother looks at me like I’m crazy.
Maura snorts as she turns the stove off.
“Nearly thirty years you’ve been on this planet, Declan, and I don’t think I’ve ever once heard you care this much about your office, or frankly any room of yours, being messy.
No matter how much I used to pray for moments like this when you were a teenager. ”
“Are you saying a man can never change, Maura?” I scoff, pouring myself a cup of coffee. Or, as Aidan liked to tease me, a cup of milk and sugar with a splash of coffee.
She shakes her head, hands on her hips. “No. But the question is, who has inspired this change?”
My back stiffens. “What makes you think it's a ‘who’?”
“Yeah. Maybe he finally decided to give those self-help podcasts I’ve been recommending him a shot,” Aidan offers.
“You listen to self-help podcasts?” I can’t even hide the judgment I know is on my face.
“I’ve been telling you about them for weeks now! Do you even listen to me?” Aidan clicks his tongue in mock offense.
“I do, but admittedly, our tastes in media preferences are not aligned.”
“Don’t knock it till you try it, is all I’m saying.” Aidan shrugs.
“I don’t know, I think I’m on Declan’s side on that one,” a voice as smooth as silk fills the room.
Turning around slowly, I’m met with the sweet scene of vanilla and cardamom and the sight of Zahra in a long black trench coat, the top half of which somehow manages to grip her curves like a second skin.
The dark red lipstick on her plump lips matches the deep maroon of her velvet maroon thigh-high boots.
By the time my eyes meet hers, there’s a mischievous glint to them.
One that tempts me to find out just how lethal she can be.
“Sorry, we’re early. I didn’t mean to interrupt breakfast.” Zahra gives Maura an apologetic smile, no doubt winning her favor. “We can wait in the hallway while you all finish—”
“Nonsense, there’s plenty for everyone. Why don’t you all take a seat? I’ll have the table set in no time.”
“We can help,” Zahra offers as she walks into the kitchen.
“Oh, there’s no need for all that—”
Zahra shakes her head. “I insist. My mother raised me to always contribute, especially when someone invites me over as a guest. It’s the least we can do.”
I stay frozen in place as I watch Zahra undo her coat, button by button, desperate to see what she had on underneath.
Shrugging off her top layer, she reveals a long-sleeved, deep red, fitted dress that falls right above her boots.
My hands twitch, practically aching to reach out and caress her soft hips, that sway ever so slightly as she follows Maura into the dining room, plates in hand.
A vision flashes in my head, one where this is our normal, everyday routine.
Me waking up to find Maura and Zahra in the kitchen laughing and teasing me about whatever dumb thing I had done earlier in the week.
Eventually, I’d pretend to have had enough of the jokes and reach across the island, tugging her closer to me and throwing her over my shoulder back into my room, where I would apologize for all my past mistakes. First with my tongue, and then with my—
“Dude, have some self-respect and get that under control. We’re not teenagers anymore.” Aidan jabs an elbow into my side, sending a pointed look at the crotch of my pants which had definitely stiffened in the last ten minutes.
“There was a cold breeze. From the window,” I snap, hoping he believes the excuse.
“Riiight. A breeze. If I may, I’d like to remind you that she killed a man in cold blood without a second thought in front of like a thousand witnesses,” he whispers.
“You can. If I can remind you that man put a bullet in me. And tried to kill her.” A rush of heat fills my body as I think back to how utterly tantalizing she was that night.
The moment I laid eyes on her and that red silk dress that showed more of her chest and her soft legs than it did cover, I knew I was a goner.
I spent that night schmoozing with the Boston elites who would want nothing more than to pawn their daughters off to marry me, and received a few decently promising proposals, and yet all I could think about was the one thing I couldn’t have. Zahra.