Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
Declan
When I’ve seen the last of Monday’s patients, I go searching for Evie. She had lunch with my mom earlier and I haven’t talked to her. I need to.
I couldn’t read the expression she wore when I saw her between patients a few hours ago, so I’m crawling out of my skin to get her alone.
Janet and Kyle take off, and Dr. Martinez is staying late to catch up on dictation.
Maggie left at the stroke of four-thirty, so this leaves me some breathing room.
We haven’t announced our engagement, and my family, miraculously, hasn’t spread it around town.
Not to suggest they’re gossips, but my parents, Finn, and May are the least discreet people on the planet.
I find Evie packing up her water bottle and travel coffee mug. “Can I walk you to Sunny Days?”
The preschool’s cheery name fits the atmosphere and every person who works there. I’m glad it’s where Charlie spends his time when Evie is here.
“Sure.”
Her response does nothing to quell the curiosity and anxiety in me.
I swallow down the desire to rush out and pepper her with questions, hoping my mother didn’t do anything to upset her.
I cannot read her mood, and she’s so focused on shutting down her computer and tidying up her space before she goes, I have no guesses.
A second after the employee entrance closes behind us, I start talking. “So, how was it?”
She halts, head down. I take in every detail, the tension in my chest quadrupling by the second.
Her hair has come loose from the ponytail she wore it in and little wisps frame her face in a charming way.
I want to brush them out of her eyes and feel the strands against my fingertips—I want to see her face.
Her shoulders slump, and when she finally looks up, tears are swimming in her eyes.
“I’m sorry. I really thought I could hold it together. I didn’t get much sleep this weekend, and I’m a little overwhelmed.”
“What happened? What did she say? What can I do?” I’m frantic, and I’m a hairsbreadth from pulling her into my arms while simultaneously calling my mother to demand she come apologize for whatever is making Evie cry.
She swipes at her eyes and presses her lips together.
“Evie, please.” My voice breaks on the words. Have I ever felt this desperate for someone to speak?
“I’m sorry. I’m fine. It was actually…” She shakes her head, gaze casting around as though the brick walls of our building or Carl and his be-hatted goat moseying down the road fifty feet away might give her the answer.
I will myself, with every fiber of control I have, not to interrupt her. To let her process her thoughts and express them as she wants.
“It was so lovely, Declan.”
Her blue eyes find mine and she’s crying, but sort of smiling, too.
“Lovely?” I can’t make sense of this.
“It really was.” She grins, laughs at herself, and then wraps her arms around herself like she needs the comfort.
I’ll be having none of that. She need not do that for herself. I want to do it.
But I hold back. I don’t want to do anything she doesn’t want, and we haven’t discussed physical contact. I don’t think she’d reject it, but I can’t bear the thought that she’d be even remotely uncomfortable. So I don’t do it.
She heaves a big sigh, then slowly begins walking. There are only a few blocks until we reach the preschool, so I’m glad she’s taking her time.
“Your mom wants to throw us a wedding. She’s going to do all the legwork but wants my opinion, and yours I assume. She said she wants to celebrate everything because life is short. That after your dad…” Her face flashes with empathy.
I nod. I shouldn’t be surprised, though foolishly, I am. I’ve been so blinded by the need to help Evie and Charlie, to get her through this custody battle and see her to the other side of it, I haven’t been thinking about what it would mean to my family to essentially be excluded from the process.
“I’m sorry. I know this is more than you wanted. You wanted simple and quiet, but she was so convincing.”
With a reluctant chuckle, I set her straight. “There is no one in this world more convincing than Mary Ryan, with the possible exception of her two daughters.”
She grins.
My stupid heart flips.
“I’m glad to hear that you’re aware of her superpowers.”
I like that, her thinking of my mom that way, instead of seeing her as manipulative or conniving. She’s really not, though I worry this is more than Evie wanted.
“It’s more than you wanted, too,” I remind her.
She starts to smile again, but her face crumples. I am profoundly failing at understanding the emotional swings here, but I don’t know everything about Evie. I want to, but I don’t.
Yet.
“Please,” I start, but then I do what I’ve wanted. Without asking permission, I wrap her up, more for myself than her. My arms come around her, and I savor the fleeting seconds I allow myself to hold her.
This is the first time I’ve initiated contact like this, in more than a simple touch or press of a hand, and I pray it’s not unwelcome. In a heartbeat, her arms come around me, and she rests her head against me, her face curving into my neck.
If she weren’t crying, I’d have a harder time keeping my mind right while she’s pressed against me, her breath ghosting across my skin. But right now, I only want her reassured. I don’t mind her tears except they mean she’s hurting, and I hate that.
“I’m sorry. I’m just a wreck today. Apparently, your sweet mom wanting to throw us a wedding and being kind to me is more than I can take.”
I ease back and search her face. Her lashes are darkened from tears and her face is a bit blotchy, but damn if she isn’t as beautiful as always.
“Why?”
Her brow knits, and just when I think she’ll dodge the question, she steps back out of my arms and looks down at her feet, but she speaks.
“I’ve never had that. Family to butt in and insist on celebrating a milestone or…
anything. Your whole family is wonderful, and your mom—” Her chin wobbles but she firms it.
“When I met my ex’s mom, she immediately made sure I knew she was first in her son’s life and I wasn’t good enough.
She never even pretended to like or approve of me.
Trevor hurt me, but she did, too. I don’t think I even realized how much until today. ”
A shadow passes over her face, but when she looks back at me, it’s gone and she continues. “Your mom was nothing like that. She clearly loves you so much.”
I’d bet good money she already loves Evie, too.
I’m often grateful for my family. I moved back home to be closer to them, keenly aware that my father may not have all that much time left. Nothing like a life-threatening event to wake you up to what you actually care about.
Right now, I am flooded with gratitude and love for the lot of them, and especially my mom for showing Evie she’s cared for. That, even if she thinks it’s by association with me, she’s loved. And that her marrying me matters—not only because of me, but because of her.
“She does. I’m more and more aware of how lucky I am to have been raised a Ryan.”
Her smile is soft and I’m relieved to see her tears have completely abated.
“You are.”
We reach the corner where we turn toward Sunny Days, and she stops me with a hand on my wrist.
“I am sorry, though. This has become so much more than you wanted.”
Golden rays of sunshine make it look like she’s wearing a crown.
Her eyes are lit with worry and her brows arch in concern.
Her cheeks are bright, her nose still a little red from crying, and her lips are parted and perfect in the way they always are.
In the way that tells me I’ve got to stop looking, stop taking in every lovely inch of her before the longing is etched plainly on my face for her to read.
My god, she has no idea. No idea what I want.
But I can’t lay out how much I already feel and risk her feeling trapped. The mention of her ex is a sobering reminder of what she’s been through. I will do nothing that might make it harder for her to do what she wants.
“Declan?”
Clearing my throat, I nod. “It’s not what we expected, but it makes sense. Maybe it’s even better—it’ll lend credibility to the whole thing.”
“Right. Yeah. Good point.” She’s nodding, holding her bag in front of her, and I realize with a jolt that I never took it from her, like an ass.
“I think, since we’ll have a slightly larger audience, we may need some time to…” It feels foolish to say “get to know each other,” but that’s what I mean.
“I agree. Maybe sometime this week? So far, your mom has quite a few things scheduled for lunch breaks. She said she was thinking a Saturday wedding. So maybe Thursday evening?”
We make the plan. She insists she can get Charlie and that I should go home. I do so reluctantly.
And I start counting the hours until she comes to my place for dinner on Thursday.