Chapter 1 #2
Hiding my misery lest I trigger Eileen’s investigative skills, I shove my sadness down deep in my chest and consider squatting or bending down to meet the child but decide to lower myself onto the seat beside her instead.
After Lydia and Oscar ripped open old scars, the thought of opening myself up to further scrutiny by leaning over and displaying my fat ass to the entire party sounds like a horrendous idea.
She plops the baby onto my lap before I’m even fully settled on the cushion.
I freeze, half perched with my heart in my throat, too afraid to move and knock him onto the floor, but precious little hands grab the front of my dress and close into fists.
He aims innocent yet oddly discerning eyes into mine, smiles, and babbles out a few test sounds before burying his face in my chest. Even as embarrassment flickers through me, I wrap my arms loosely around him and scoot deeper onto the couch.
His warm little body thaws the ice in my depths. Bittersweet emotions trickle through the gaps. The scents of baby powder and fabric softener fill my nose. With surprising strength, he wriggles on my lap, pats my breasts, and tugs at the fabric of my dress.
“Don’t get too comfortable,” Eileen says.
Too awed by the tiny life sitting so trustingly in my arms, I make a questioning sound in the back of my throat without looking up.
“My son is not the one I want you to meet,” she says.
I tear my gaze away from David’s wispy hair and meet Eileen’s playful smirk.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“I didn’t invite you so you could meet my son. I mean, I did, but he isn’t the only one I want you to meet.”
A tiny fist thuds on my upper chest. I grimace at the sting and grab my collar before he tugs it down, but I don’t try to stop him.
“You’re not trying to steal my job, are you?” I tease.
Despite the levity in my voice, my forgotten dread tenfolds, and I dip my head to breathe in the scent of baby.
Her lighthearted chuckle broadcasts how ludicrous she finds the idea, but she stands and reaches for her baby. He refuses to let go of my dress. I pin the fabric to my breasts and hold still as she pries his fingers open.
I can’t stop my blush any more than I can erase the ache in my heart as he cries and yanks my dress harder with his other hand, revealing an obscene amount of my cleavage. If not for my hands over my chest, I’d have flashed my breasts to half of New York City’s richest citizens.
Eileen’s husband clears his throat.
“Apologies, Ms. Justice. He’s never done this before. I’ll make sure to give him a proper scolding when we get home,” he deadpans.
I hide my mortification behind a mock gasp.
“Don’t you dare! Eileen—”
Before I even finish my threat, he lifts his hands in the universal sign of surrender and shakes his head.
Eileen frees David’s grip and lifts him toward her husband.
As the tall, well-dressed man turns and strides away with his son cradled in his big arms, he murmurs teasing words of caution about vicious women and naughty boys.
With the feel of new life still lingering on my lap, I turn disappointed eyes at my friend and quirk a brow.
She gestures for me to follow her. I push myself to my feet with as much grace as possible and adjust my dress.
“Whoever you’re taking me to better be flippin’ amazing,” I grumble.
“Oh, they are,” she quips.
I stop dead in my tracks when I meet a familiar pair of grey eyes.
Standing beside an elderly woman with her elbow cupped in his hand, my first and only crush, Declan Buchanan, stares at me with such intensity my stomach bottoms out.
The last time I saw him, he was a painfully awkward, lanky twelve-year-old boy with haunted eyes.
Our classmates in middle school were heartless jerks who called him a scrawny, soulless ginger, but his eyes have always held his emotions.
If our classmates saw him now, their fear would keep their mouths sealed shut.
He’s like a disgruntled grizzly bear looking for his next meal.
A meal he’ll take his time devouring as they slowly bleed out under his gigantic paw.
Or a lumberjack in a suit, which shouldn’t work, but despite his meticulously trimmed facial hair and custom-made attire, his sleek appearance can’t hide the rough, rugged air wafting from him.
The twinkling lights glint in his deep red curls and highlight the freckles on his cheeks and nose above his beard and mustache. He commands the room with predatory ease.
Overwhelmed by my bad luck and painfully aware of my excess weight, I lock my emotions away and embody the cheerful, upbeat matchmaker who has never had a hard day in her life.
He can never know how much his betrayal wrecked me. Because of him, I’ll never know romance firsthand.
He was my knight in shining armor. My first crush. My true love.
I never wanted anyone before him, and I haven’t wanted anyone since. We may have only known each other for a few years, and only as children, but he was always my one and only.
Not anymore.
Ever since he ripped my heart out with his bare hands and stomped on it with every retreating step, I’ve known I’ll never find my happily ever after, but if my hunch is right—and it always is—Eileen and the elderly woman beside him expect me to find his.
For the first time in my career, I’m not sure I can do it.
Declan Buchanan may break me. Again.
The urge to flee squeezes my chest. His eyes narrow.
He knows.
I brighten my smile and step forward. I’ve worked too hard to get where I am today to ruin it over a man I haven’t seen in twenty years.
Especially not the man who was my first love and only failed attempt at matchmaking.