Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CLAIRE
I blink hard, certain my mind is playing tricks on me.
He can’t be here. He was supposed to head back to D.C. today. That’s what he said last night.
But there’s no mistaking it’s him. Declan. Standing in the middle of the Holley Ridge Christmas Festival like a ghost from the one night I’ve been trying so hard to forget.
Except he’s not a ghost. He’s real. Solid. Over six feet of muscle and broad shoulders, now wearing a splash of deep red across his white button-down shirt.
“I’m so sorry.” I snap out of my stupor, reaching for the front of his shirt like I can somehow make the stain disappear with sheer will. My fingers almost graze his chest before I catch myself. “I wasn’t… I didn’t see you.”
“Don’t worry about it.” His voice is calm, though there’s a flicker of something else beneath the surface. Surprise? Or maybe nerves.
But Declan doesn’t seem like the kind of man who gets nervous.
At least he didn’t during our one night together.
But I need to stop thinking about that Declan.
Instead, I need to only think about him as Joshua’s father.
Nothing else.
“I’ve survived worse,” he continues. “Do you mind pointing me to the nearest bathroom?”
“They’re in there.” I point toward the refurbished barn that now hosts weddings and other important functions. “But it looks like there’s more people in that line than the one for Santa.”
He scowls at the long line of people snaking along the perimeter.
“You can use the one in my office,” I offer before I can think better of it.
“Are you sure?” He raises an eyebrow. “You looked like you were heading somewhere important.”
I should take the out he’s giving me. Tell him I have too much to do. But just like that night in Boston, there’s something about being near him that has me acting out of character.
“I was actually about to head inside,” I tell him. “I needed a breather.”
“If you’re sure?” He arches a single brow.
“It’s the least I can do,” I respond with a smile, then start toward the building, every inch of me prickling with awareness.
The lobby of the inn is bustling, but it’s nowhere near as chaotic as outside. The scent of pine and cinnamon lingers in the air, blending with faint hints of firewood and something sugary.
Declan follows me down the hall, his footsteps echoing against the hardwood floor. The silence between us is thick with tension, everything we shouldn’t say hanging in the space between us.
“It’s in here.” I open the last door on the right and flick on the light.
He steps inside, his eyes sweeping over the room — the window overlooking the lake, desk cluttered with paperwork, bookshelf adorned with several framed photos.
It dawns on me how personal this space is, and I suddenly feel exposed. Like I just let him see a piece of me I never meant to share.
“It’s not much, but it’s got a great view,” I offer nervously. “Especially in the fall. It’s my favorite time of year.”
“Not Christmas?”
“I love Christmas, but fall…” I push out a sigh.
“It’s quieter. Simpler. And the reflection of the trees on the lake with their leaves all different colors is absolutely breathtaking.
It’s what people should flock here to see.
” I can’t stop the smile that spreads across my face. “But I’m glad they don’t.”
“Some things are better when you don’t invite the world in,” he offers.
“Yes, they are.”
I slowly bring my eyes to his, and a chill rushes down my spine from the intensity in his gaze. Like I’m a mystery he’s desperate to unravel. But it only lasts a heartbeat before he tears his eyes from mine, focusing on one of the framed photos on the bookshelf.
“Is this your sister?” He picks it up, admiring a photo of Genevieve and me from my college graduation.
“It is.”
He examines it for a few moments before returning it to the shelf and studying the other photos. I can sense when he spies one of Joshua and me from a yearly camping trip we still go on with several of our friends from high school. His jaw ticks, his shoulders becoming tense.
“You mentioned I could use your bathroom.”
“Right.” I gesture to the door to the right of the bookcase.
He slides off his suit jacket and drapes it over a chair before loosening and removing his tie. As he steps into the bathroom, he untucks his shirt and grabs a towel. He wets it and brings it up to his shirt.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” I tell him.
He pauses mid-motion, his eyes finding mine. “What’s that?”
“What you’re about to do. It’ll just set the stain.”
“What do you suggest?”
“I can grab some stain remover from housekeeping. I can bring you a shirt, too.”
“Do you keep a stash for wine-related emergencies?” he asks with a slight chuckle.
“Our waitstaff wear white dress shirts. I can snag one from the uniform closet. It’s probably not the same thread count as yours, but most people around here aren’t impressed by designer labels. At least the locals aren’t.”
“Including you?”
I nod. “Including me.”
“A shirt would be great. Thanks.”
“Be right back.”
I slip into the hallway and take a long, steadying breath. My heart’s still racing from the collision. Or maybe just from seeing him again. I thought he’d be gone by now. Thought I could put this entire situation behind me and focus on the Christmas festival.
He’s probably just staying through the weekend to spend more time with Joshua. From what I observed last night at dinner, they certainly hit it off. And if Declan’s anything like Joshua, he’d happily rearrange his plans if Joshua asked.
Or even if he didn’t.
Once I’ve found the stain treatment and a clean shirt that looks to be his size, I hurry back to my office. But the instant I cross the threshold, I come to an abrupt stop.
Declan stands shirtless in the middle of the room, turned slightly toward the bookshelf as he studies my photos once more.
Warm light spills from the desk lamp, brushing over his tanned skin and illuminating the smattering of tattoos.
His back is strong and broad, the muscles shifting subtly as he moves.
My gaze trails lower, over the sculpted lines of his torso, the narrow cut of his waist, the dark line of hair leading downward, vanishing beneath the waistband of his pants.
Images of our night together flash before me. Of his body over me. Around me. Inside me. How he drove into me. How he gripped my hips. How he spanked me. The memory is so clear, and before I can stop myself, a soft, traitorous sound escapes my lips.
A moan.
His eyes flick to mine. Dark. Intense. Burning.
He doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. Time stands still as the world around us evaporates, the air between us heavy and charged. We’re not in my office at Holley Ridge. He’s not Joshua’s father. We’re just two strangers who share an inexplicable connection to each other.
But we are in my office. And he is Joshua’s father. Nothing can change that. Not even an inexplicable connection that seems to get stronger and stronger with every second I spend in his presence.
“Here.” I thrust the shirt toward him. “It’s not exactly tailor-made, but it’s better than going shirtless.”
He gives me a knowing look, a silent question within, considering he just caught me ogling him.
And he heard the moan to prove it.
“I mean…” I stammer.
“Thanks,” he interjects, saving me from having to explain myself.
He takes the shirt from me, his fingers grazing mine. The contact sends a jolt through me, my skin warming from his touch. I spin away, desperate for something else to focus on. Anything else.
Spying his stained shirt on my chair, I snatch it and disappear into the bathroom, treating the red mark like it’s a medical emergency.
“I thought you were leaving today,” I say to cut through the heavy silence.
“I was.” I make out the rustle of fabric as he slips the fresh shirt on, but I refuse to steal a peek at him. Not until I know he’s fully dressed.
“What happened?”
“This is Joshua’s first Christmas without his mom. I figured it might be good for him to have family around. Not sure I qualify as family just yet, but I’m hoping some time together might help toward that end.”
A warmth fills me over how hard Declan seems to be trying to have a relationship with Joshua. It restores my faith in humanity that not all fathers are deadbeats. Unlike my own.
“How long are you staying?”
“Probably until after the first of the year.”
My breath catches, causing saliva to go down the wrong pipe, and I cough.
“Are you okay with that?”
I snap my head to my left to see him lingering in the doorway, his concerned gaze locked on mine. Thankfully, his sculpted torso is now fully covered.
“Of course,” I manage to squeak out once I get my coughing under control. “You don’t need my permission to spend time with your son.” I return my attention to his shirt, although I’m pretty sure I’ve already sprayed it enough.
“That’s not what I’m talking about, Claire.”
“It’s fine,” I rush out. “Like I said. It was only one night. It didn’t mean anything. We’ll pretend it never happened.”
I can feel him studying me, like he’s trying to read between the lines. And maybe he can. Maybe he knows I’m lying through my teeth. That our one night meant more than I thought possible.
But I don’t give him the chance to call me out on it.
“Will you be staying with Joshua?” I ask, my tone light and conversational.
“He offered, but I didn’t want to intrude since this whole father-son thing is still new to both of us. But he did put me in touch with someone who had a place available.”
“You got lucky.” I slip past him and grab a hanger off the back of my door, placing the shirt over it to dry. “Short-term rentals are next to impossible this time of year.”
“I guess he just moved in with his fiancée and hasn’t gotten around to putting it up for rent yet,” he states, grabbing his tie and knotting it without looking in a mirror. “He doesn’t want to sell because his sister lives in the other half of the duplex.”
Alarm bells instantly clang in my head, dread tightening my stomach.
Because Finn, my soon-to-be brother-in-law, just moved in with my sister and he hasn’t put his half of the duplex he owns up for rent yet. And his sister, Dylan, my best friend, lives in the other half of the duplex.
With me.
“What’s his name? This person you’re renting from?”
Declan frowns. “Not sure. He’s a firefighter here in town. I haven’t had a chance to meet him yet. Joshua arranged it all for me.”
I squeeze my eyes shut.
Because Finn’s also a firefighter.
“Why do you ask?”
I return my gaze to his.
“Because it looks like we’ll be neighbors, Declan.”
“That’s not possible. Joshua said this guy’s sister lives next door.”
“She does.” I grit a smile. “Her name’s Dylan. And she’s my roommate.”
Silence falls between us as he stares at me like I just told him some horrible truth. Not that we’re about to be neighbors.
“Shit. I’m sorry. I’ll try to find somewhere else.”
But I know he won’t find anything. Not within a fifty-mile radius.
Joshua’s wondered about his father for years.
And the duplex where I live with Dylan is less than a mile from Joshua’s apartment, making it easy for them to spend time together.
After everything he’s been through over the past several years with taking care of his mother, then losing her, he deserves something good.
“It’s okay,” I assure him. “I’m barely home anyway. Plus, it’s not like we’re actually living together.”
We’re just sharing a wall.
Declan watches me for a long beat. Like he doesn’t believe me. Hell, I’m not sure I believe myself, either.
“Seriously, Declan. It’s no big deal.”
“Are you sure?”
“I am.” I force a smile, and another heavy silence falls between us, neither of us knowing what to say.
I’m not sure there is anything to say.
“Well…” He clears his throat. “I won’t take up any more of your time. Thanks for your help. And the shirt.”
“Of course.”
He holds my gaze for several long moments, then slips out of my office and into the hallway. Once he disappears from view, I slump into my chair.
It was one thing to pretend that night never happened when he was living on the other side of the country. Out of sight. Out of mind.
But to learn he’s not only staying through the holidays, but is my new neighbor?
One thing is certain. This holiday season just got a lot more interesting…
And complicated.