4. Chapter 3 #3
Beck’s voice, loud and dramatic, carries on the wind. He’s gesturing wildly at a scruffy, sandy-colored mutt sitting patiently at Mason’s feet. The dog has one ear that stands up and one that flops, and a tail that’s wagging so hard its entire back end is swinging.
Declan stands with his arms crossed over his bare chest, and somehow, I forget how to breathe.
His torso is a ridiculous display of muscle, with abs carved in sharp lines, shoulders that could carry the weight of the fucking world, and that dark sleeve of ink winding down his left arm.
Sweat glistens in the dip of his collarbone, and lower, disappearing beneath the waistband of his shorts, that V-cut that made me lose my mind three nights ago.
My mouth goes dry. My thighs clench involuntarily.
Stop it. He called you 'woman.' You are NOT attracted to him right now.
But my traitorous body doesn't get the memo. Heat floods my cheeks, and I pray to every god I don't believe in that Darcy doesn't notice the way I'm staring.
“For fuck’s sake, Beck. We’re not keeping a stray dog,” Declan growls as we draw nearer.
Mason is crouched beside the dog, scratching behind its ear. “He’s been here for weeks, Dec. No collar. No tags.”
“We feed him every time we’re down here!” Beck announces, as if presenting evidence to a jury. “Tell them, Mase!”
“I’ve never seen him with an owner," Mason sighs.
Darcy strides forward, me trailing in her wake like a stunned duckling. She divides the small crowd gathered around, a collection of teenagers and cyclists who have all stopped in their tracks to witness the argument.
“Way to make the Bears look good, guys," Darcy snaps, moving into the center. "Public bickering and causing a scene. What’s going on?”
Beck’s face lights up when he sees us. “Darcy! Josie! Perfect timing. Tell Captain No Soul over here that we’re keeping the dog.”
Declan’s gaze snaps to me, and his eyes are stormier than they were in the meeting. Fuck. They flick over my face, then drop to my lips for a heartbeat before he looks away.
The dog wags its tail harder, trotting over to sniff my shoes.
"Aw. He’s adorable." The dog nudges my hand to pat him. I crouch down and give him a scruff. "Look at your big brown eyes and scrappy fur. So cute."
"See. Everyone likes the dog." Beck snaps at Declan. "Why are you such a grump all the time?"
I look at the dog, then at Declan’s stony, shirtless disapproval of the current situation.
And I make a decision.
Show him who's boss. Don't take his shit.
“Mason, I think he clearly likes you,” I say, my voice calm. I look right at Declan, while still talking to Mason. “I think it's so kind of you to give him shelter while you try to find his owner. You have such a big heart.”
Declan’s eyes narrow into slits of blue suspicion. “You're just saying that to piss me off.”
“Am I?” I sing, tilting my head and batting my lashes. “Or am I simply recognizing Mason’s exceptional capacity for compassion? Honestly, Declan, you should be proud to have a brother with such a giving spirit.”
The dog, as if on cue, plops down directly on Mason’s foot.
Declan’s nostrils flare. “Don't you have some work to do, Whitfield?”
"Oh, absolutely." I smile sweetly. "But you know how it is when you're just a woman trying to figure out her place in a new job."
I pause and let the woman jab land. It lands like a slap. Right across his smug face.
"Sometimes a girl's gotta recharge with iced coffee and brunch in the sunshine," I finish with a wink.
Then, after a moment of silence, Beck howls with laughter, doubling over and slapping his knee.
“OH MY GOD! SHE GOT YOU! SHE FUCKING GOT YOU!”
Mason’s lips twitch into the faintest, rarest smile, and Darcy smirks right into her iced coffee.
Declan’s entire body goes rigid. His eyes lock with mine, and the look in them is pure, undiluted fury.
My heart hammers against my ribs.
“Oh man,” Beck wheezes, wiping a tear from his eye. “I like this girl. She has bite. We’re totally keeping her.” He snaps his neck around and glares at Declan. "And the dog."
"So it's settled." Mason stands, the dog circling his legs happily. “I’ll take him to the vet. Get him checked out. If no one there knows anything, I'll bring him home.”
“YES! We’re keeping him!” Beck sings, following Mason as he starts walking toward a parked Range Rover. “What are we naming him? Sergeant Snacks? Admiral Fluff? Chops?!”
“We’re NOT naming him!” Declan barks, but they’re already gone, the dog trotting happily between them, leaving Declan standing alone with me and Darcy on the boardwalk.
He turns back to us and sighs.
For a second, I think he might say something. Perhaps even apologize and acknowledge the colossal ass he’s been all fucking day.
Instead, his gaze sweeps over me one last time, lingering on my mouth like he’s remembering the same thing I am. Then he turns and walks away without a word.
Darcy watches him go, then looks at me. “You handled that perfectly.”
"You think?" I let out a shaky breath. “I think I just made it worse.”
“Exactly,” Darcy says, a smile spreading across her face. “Worse means now he’s paying attention.”