Chapter 22 #2
Turning back to the fire, I bent down to stoke it with the blackened prodder thing I saw Declan use earlier.
It flared back to life, and I sighed in relief that it would last a bit longer, and I wasn’t going to have to pull out my limited knowledge of fire-making.
Staring into the flames, watching the orange and gold flicker and dance, I tried to sort through the tangled mess of my emotions.
My body still hummed with the afterglow of what we’d done, every nerve ending alive in ways I’d forgotten were possible.
But my mind was spinning with complications I’d been trying to ignore.
Chicago. The job interview that could resurrect my career. The chance to prove that Patricia had been wrong to fire me, that I was capable of brilliant, dynamic work. Everything I’d thought I wanted when I came back to Everdale Falls in defeat.
Except now there was Declan. Declan, who’d just made me feel more desired and cherished in one afternoon than Derek had managed during our entire relationship.
Declan, who looked at me like I was something precious instead of convenient.
Declan, who was also in the middle of his own life crisis and might be heading back to New York any day now.
I wrapped my arms around myself, staring into the fire and trying to figure out when exactly I’d started planning my future around a man I’d kissed under mistletoe less than a week ago.
This was exactly the kind of thinking that had gotten me into trouble with Derek—making major life decisions based on romantic feelings instead of practical considerations.
Except this didn’t feel like Derek. Derek had made me doubt myself, had gradually eroded my confidence until I questioned every decision. Declan made me feel capable and strong and like I could handle whatever complications came my way.
But that didn’t change the fact that we were both in transition, both figuring out what we wanted from our lives. And it definitely didn’t change the fact that I had a job interview in a few days that could determine my entire career trajectory.
I heard movement from the bedroom and turned to see Declan standing in the doorway, his coat wrapped around his shoulders like the world’s most expensive blanket. His hair was adorably mussed, and he was looking at me with an expression that was equal parts confusion and concern.
“You’re dressed,” he observed, his voice still rough with sleep.
“I was cold,” I said, which was true even if it wasn’t the whole truth.
“Come back to bed,” he said, holding out a hand.
I hesitated, knowing I wasn’t going to come up with any answers while he was parading around naked in the firelight.
“I’ll make a fire in the bedroom,” he murmured, gathering the supplies.
“Doesn’t look like we’ll be going anywhere tonight,” I muttered.
He paused, probably hearing the reluctance in my voice. “If you want, I can sleep out here…”
“No,” I say instantly, shaking my head. “No, this is your parents’ place. I will. We can’t both sleep in the single bed.”
“Says who?” he asked and turned to head back into the bedroom.
I heard the sounds of fire making and headed that way, following him like a moth to a flame.
The bedroom was already warming up, the new fire crackling cheerfully in the stone fireplace.
Declan was now climbing back into the narrow bed, holding the covers up invitingly.
In the flickering firelight, he looked like every fantasy I’d ever had made flesh—broad shoulders and lean muscle and blue eyes that tracked my every movement.
“Holly,” he said quietly. “Whatever you’re overthinking right now, can it wait until morning? I promise we’ll talk about everything. But right now, I just want to hold you while the storm does its thing.”
The simple honesty in his voice made something in my chest loosen. Maybe he was right. Maybe I didn’t need to solve every complication tonight. Maybe I could just let myself have this—one night of feeling wanted and safe and completely present in the moment.
I shrugged off my coat and kicked off my boots, climbing into the bed beside him. The mattress was so small that there was no way to maintain any kind of distance. I ended up with my back pressed against his chest.
“Better?”
“Better,” I replied, though my mind was still racing with unspoken confessions and unanswered questions.
We lay in comfortable silence for a while, listening to the fire crackle and the storm howl outside, and I felt Declan’s breathing gradually even out again as sleep claimed him.
The man was exhausted. Whatever brought him back to Everdale Falls was weighing heavily on him.
His arm was slung across my waist, anchoring me against him, and I could feel his heartbeat steady and strong against my back.
I should have felt peaceful. Safe. Content in the aftermath of incredible sex with a man who’d just proven he could make my body do things no one else ever had.
Instead, I stared at the dancing shadows the fire cast on the rough-hewn walls and tried to untangle the mess I’d created.
The Chicago interview was in five days. Five days to prepare, to research the company, to craft the perfect answers that would convince them I was exactly what they needed.
Five days during which I also had to coordinate the final festival preparations, manage vendor logistics, and apparently navigate whatever this thing with Declan had become.
And I still hadn’t told him.
The worst part was that I didn’t even know what I wanted anymore.
A few days ago, the answer would have been simple—get the hell out of Everdale Falls, resurrect my career, prove to everyone who’d doubted me that I could succeed on my own terms. Chicago represented everything I’d lost when Derek and Patricia had systematically destroyed my life between them.
But now there was Declan, there was this. And somehow, we had to figure whatever this was out, and soon.