Chapter 36
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CLAIRE
Silver and gold streamers shimmer from the rafters of the Holley Ridge barn, glinting under the twinkle of thousands of fairy lights. A band plays an upbeat jazz tune, couples spinning in a blur of sequins and champagne, the room alive with celebration.
Laughter blends with the clinking of glasses, the energy and excitement growing more and more electric as the clock hanging over the bar ticks down to midnight.
And yet, all I can think about is him.
I’ve spent most of the night near the edge of the dance floor, pretending to enjoy myself while my gaze keeps drifting toward the doors.
A ridiculous part of me can’t help but hope that Declan will show up.
That maybe I’ll get that same climactic ending like in books and movies, and Declan will rush in at the last second like Harry did for Sally.
But the clock keeps ticking. And there’s no sign of Declan.
“Care for a dance?”
Joshua’s voice breaks through the music. He looks handsome in his suit, his tie undone like he’s halfway between relaxed and rakish.
“I thought you were having fun with Maisie,” I say, glancing past him toward where another one of the employees here stands with her friends, her face flushed.
“I was, but you promised me one dance tonight. Since it’s almost midnight, I’m here to collect.” He extends his hand toward me.
I hesitate only a second before linking my fingers with his. His palm is warm, steady, familiar as he leads me to the dance floor.
We move together seamlessly, our steps practiced from all the Thursday night dance lessons we attended in this very barn. Regardless of the fact that he’d probably rather spend his Thursday night relaxing or watching TV, he was always there. Always willing, even though dancing wasn’t his thing.
The thought makes my chest squeeze. Declan would never do this with me. He’d never step out of his comfort zone for me. Not like Joshua.
I just wish I’d realized that sooner.
“You’re thinking about him,” Joshua whispers.
I tear my gaze to his, struggling to come up with a response. Something less awkward than admitting I was thinking about his father while dancing with him.
But I can’t lie. Not to him.
Not when he knows me so well.
“I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry about.”
“You say that, but I—”
He twirls me suddenly, the movement catching me off guard. Laughter escapes despite myself. When I land back against him, he nods toward an awkward couple a few feet away.
“What do you think their story is?”
I know what he’s doing. He’s trying to distract me from thinking about Declan by playing the game we do whenever we come to the barn for dance lessons. And right now, I could really use a distraction.
I follow Joshua’s line of sight and study them.
The man looks like he’s wearing a tux that’s three sizes too small, his shoulders hunched, face red from exertion. The woman’s expression reminds me of someone trying to win a ballroom dance competition. I’ve never seen a more mismatched couple.
Then again, I could probably say the same about Declan and me.
“Don’t you recognize him?” I say in mock surprise.
“No. Who is he?”
I lean closer, dropping my voice. “That’s Paul Bunyan the third.”
Joshua laughs. “Paul Bunyan…the third?”
“Direct descendant of the Paul Bunyan. But it’s a bit of a scandal.”
“What is?”
“He doesn’t like being a lumberjack. Instead, his dream has always been to be a ballroom dancer. It’s how he met Esmerelda, who’s well known on the professional ballroom circuit. She has secrets of her own, though.”
“And what’s that?” Joshua asks, lifting a brow.
“She comes from a long line of circus performers. Trapeze artists, to be precise. Except…”
“Let me guess. She’s afraid of heights?”
“No. She’s terrified of clowns. Which kind of limits your circus involvement. Why do you think she’s doing everything she can to steer clear of all the red balloons? It reminds her too much of Pennywise.”
Joshua throws his head back, laughing a full-belly laugh. I join him, grateful he knew exactly what I needed tonight.
“You are deranged.”
“You asked,” I shoot back, fighting a grin. “Okay. Your turn.”
He blows out a long breath. “I have no idea how I’ll top a ballroom dancing lumberjack and a circus performer with a phobia of clowns.”
“I have faith in you.”
He scans the room and points to an older couple swaying offbeat near the tree. The man keeps stepping on the woman’s dress, and she keeps swatting his arm without missing a beat.
“That’s clearly a retired jewel thief and the cop who spent his career trying to track her down. Fred and Ginger.”
I choke on a laugh. “Is that right?”
“Yup. But the more he chased after her, the more intrigued he became. So much so that he didn’t want their cat-and-mouse game to end. Neither did she. Although a part of her hoped he eventually would capture her so he could use his handcuffs on her.” He playfully waggles his brows.
“Sounds like one of Grandma Estelle’s spicy romance books.”
“Don’t worry. Their story isn’t that depraved.”
“So what happened? How did they get together?”
“She finally let him catch her on Christmas Eve, right under the mistletoe. He thought he had won, but she slipped the handcuffs out of his pocket and shackled him instead. To his surprise, he learned she’s a modern-day Robin Hood, stealing from the rich to give to the poor.
They’ve since joined forces to use each of their unique skills to make sure greedy billionaires pay their fair share. ”
“I think I like Fred and Ginger. The world needs more people like them.”
“It sure does.”
He twirls me again, and when I land back in his arms, he leans closer. “Okay, last one. Over there.”
He nods at a younger couple standing awkwardly at the edge of the dance floor. The guy is stiff as a board, the girl bouncing on her toes like she’s dying for him to move.
“First date,” he begins.
“Obviously,” I agree. “But the reason he’s barely moving is because he just realized he wore his roommate’s pants by accident. And they’re two sizes too small.”
Joshua bursts out laughing, his hand tightening at my waist to keep me steady. “That explains why he hasn’t taken a single step.”
“Exactly. He’s terrified the seams won’t survive if he does.”
The sound of our laughter carries through the rafters, drowning out the low hum of conversation, clinking glasses, and jazz music. I don’t even care that people are looking at us. I needed this. Needed to laugh.
Needed to feel happy again.
“How do you always know exactly what I need?” I say with a sigh as we stop moving.
“Because I’m your friend.”
I meet his eyes, wanting him to see the truth behind my words. “I’m so glad you are.”
“And because I’m your friend, I also know you need this.”
I furrow my brow. “What?”
He steps away, revealing a familiar figure lingering nearby.
Declan.
My heart thuds in my chest, a myriad of feelings twisting within, fighting for dominance.
“Happy New Year, Claire.” Joshua leans in and presses a kiss to my cheek. Then he retreats, leaving me alone with Declan.
He’s impossibly tall in a navy blue suit that fits like it was tailored to his body. The light catches the faint streaks of silver threading through his dark hair. But it’s his eyes that pin me in place.
Stormy.
Intense.
Fixed entirely on me.
He extends a hand. “Dance with me.”
“I didn’t take you for the type of person who liked to dance,” I respond.
“I’m not.” His mouth tilts into a nervous smile. “And I’m probably going to step all over your feet.”
“Then why do you want to dance with me?”
“Because you like to dance.” His throat works as he swallows. “And I’m willing to make a complete fool of myself if that’s what it takes.”
“If that’s what it takes for what?”
“For you to forgive me for being an ass.”
The words slice through me.
Around us, the room seems to hush, the music softening to little more than a hum. I catch Joshua in my periphery, his eyes steady. Then he mouths, Give him a chance.
The irony almost undoes me. Joshua, my first everything, nudging me toward his father, the man I once foolishly imagined would be my last.
“Please, Claire.” His voice drops, becoming raw.
“I deserve more than just a dance, Declan.”
“I know. But you also deserve to be with someone who will dance with you whenever the mood strikes. So let me show I’m willing to be uncomfortable just for you.”
I stare at him for several long seconds as a jazz rendition of “Everytime We Say Goodbye” plays in the background. The pleading look he gives me is unlike anything I’ve ever seen.
Despite my uncertainty, I slide my hand into his.
The moment his palm closes around mine, warmth spreads through me, like that feeling of coming home after a long time away. He draws me close, guiding me along to the slow sway of the music. He moves with precision and confidence. Like he does with everything else in his life.
“I thought you had a work emergency,” I say after several protracted moments of tense silence.
“I think we both know I didn’t.” His gaze never leaves mine. “Thankfully, my son flew out to D.C. and smacked some sense into me.” He blows out a small laugh. “Or, more accurately, punched some sense into me.” He works his jaw.
“Joshua punched you?” I ask in disbelief.
“I deserved it. Hell, I deserved more than that. I was an idiot. A fucking coward.”
I try to look away, but he won’t let me. His fingers touch my chin, tilting my head until his stormy eyes are all I can see.
“I thought I was protecting you. From me. From being with someone broken. But Joshua made a good point. I’ve been letting my father control me, even from the grave. In the process, I hurt the woman who means more to me than anyone ever has.”
“Declan…”
He grips me tighter. “You scare me, Claire. You have since the moment we met. I knew you were different. Knew if I allowed myself, I could fall so damn hard for you. When I found out you were Joshua’s friend, a part of me was relieved.
It meant you were off-limits. Except my heart didn’t get the message.
” His eyes burn into mine. “I fell for you anyway.”
My breath hitches. “You did?”
“Yes.” His voice cracks, low and rough. “You make me feel things I didn’t think I was capable of.
That I didn’t think I deserved. That’s why I pushed you away.
Not because I didn’t want to be with you.
But because I didn’t think I was enough.
Because I didn’t want to disappoint you like I have everyone else in my life. ”
I part my lips to argue again, but he presses a finger to my lips, silencing me.
“I’d rather be scared with you than live another damn minute without you. So please, Claire. Tell me it’s not too late. That there might still be an us.”
A voice booms overhead, announcing one minute until midnight, but he doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t look away. He only waits. Raw. Stripped down. A man ready to shatter if I say no.
“You want there to be an us?”
“More than anything.”
The ache in my chest swells, threatening to burst.
“Please, Claire. Give me another chance, and I promise to do everything I can to become the man you deserve.”
“I’m not sure I can do that,” I whisper, the crowd now at three seconds.
His shoulders drop, defeat flickering in his eyes. “I know I messed up. But I swear—”
“Because you already are the man I want.”
His head jerks up, surprise flashing in his eyes.
Then he crashes his mouth against mine.
The barn erupts in cheers as fireworks burst outside the frosted windows, everyone celebrating the beginning of a new year, but all I feel is Declan’s mouth on mine.
His kiss is raw, desperate, the kind that steals oxygen and gives it back all at once. My world curves and tilts in a myriad of different angles. Then, out of nowhere, it feels like it finally rights itself. Like this was always the way it was supposed to be.
It’s the kind of kiss that feels like a beginning and an end all in one.
When we finally pull apart, confetti rains down around us, gold and silver flecks catching in his dark hair.
“I won’t ever let you settle for pieces again, Claire.” He rests his forehead on mine, grabbing my hand and pressing it against his chest. “You have me. All of me.”
“And you have all of me.”
“I wouldn’t want anything less.”
His mouth claims mine again in another kiss. Not hidden. Not secret. But for the world to see.
I guess I got my fairytale ending after all.