Chapter Five

Sophia made a list of things she wanted to accomplish the next day as she bit back a yawn. Being tired and weepy made her feel weak, so she fought against it. When the letters on the page started to blur, she knew it was time to head out. Declan had insisted she didn’t have to stick around all day, but truthfully, she had nowhere else to go. It wasn’t that her parents wouldn’t be thrilled to see her. Oh, they would. But between the guilt trip they’d lay on over her leaving—because God forbid they let that go—and the expectations they’d have for her next steps, she just wasn’t ready.

Putting the list in the folder she’d snagged from his filing cabinet, she stood and gave in to the need to stretch. She was so exhausted that lifting her arms above her head and arching felt like dragging herself backward through mud. Declan walked in mid-stretch, and his eyes roamed to her belly, then up to her breasts, before coming to her eyes. The hint of lust she thought she saw was gone in a nanosecond, making her unsure it had been there at all. Not that it mattered.

Sophia had no desire—or room—to feel the sparks that fired through her body when they were in the same room. Not something she could have planned or prepared for. As if she didn’t have enough trouble hanging over her head.

“I can’t believe you stayed all day,” he said, watching her lower her arms.

He’d said goodbye to his staff and locked up, refusing her offer of wiping down tables. She hadn’t pushed it because her energy was already on empty. She liked that he closed early on Sundays. It made sense financially, since the start of the day was a lot busier than the end.

“Didn’t you expect the person you hired as manager to put in full-time hours?” She closed the binders she’d gone through and started putting them away on the wall shelves behind his desk.

“Of course. I didn’t think I’d get around to hiring anyone just yet, though. And definitely not on the first day of the new year.”

She looked back over her shoulder. “Well, you did, so it seems reasonable that you’d want me to work.” She appreciated that he’d given her a chance and mostly believed he’d done it based on her own merits and ability. But still, an unwelcome thought niggled. She turned to face him. “I don’t want special treatment because you know my family.”

Covering another yawn, she turned and walked to the small couch to grab her bag. If she remembered correctly, the inn at the tip of Brockton had good rooms and decent prices.

Declan was staring at her when she looked up from zipping her jacket. He shook his head and grabbed his winter jacket off the back of the door.

“What are your plans?”

“I’m going to get a room, maybe find some food, then crash. Between driving and everything, I’m tired.” More tired than she could put into words. She probably shouldn’t even get behind the wheel. But short of curling up on Declan’s office couch, what choice did she have? She eyed it appreciatively.

“A room where?” He yanked his zipper up with a jerky movement. Frustration tipped his lips downward. Even that looked good on him.

“Uh, I was thinking the inn. It’s still around, right?”

He scowled. “That’s ridiculous, Sophia.”

Eyes wide, she waited for him to continue. Stalking closer, which forced her to tip her head back, he lifted his hand, reminding her how good his embrace felt, but dropped it to his side.

“You’ll stay at my place,” he said. With a firm nod, like he agreed with himself, he stepped back.

A delicious shiver soared through her body, just from his proximity and the scent of his cologne. It woke parts of her that needed to stay slumbering. For good, where he was concerned. No need to tempt fate. Or lust. Or herself.

“I’m not staying with you. You just gave me a job. I’m pretty sure you weren’t planning on offering a place to live as part of my benefits package.”

She tugged her purse onto her shoulder. Sophia was in no mood to argue, but being the youngest kid in a family of four, she’d be able to rally if he pissed her off. She hated that her body responded so easily to him, just from a casual look or touch. He probably only offered out of some misguided loyalty as a friend of her brother’s. Sophia didn’t need to be taken care of.

“Sophia. This makes no sense. I have a four-bedroom house. An actual guest room because Megan insisted I should have one. The only person who has ever stayed in it is Charlie. That’s Adam’s kid. I’m not offering you a place to live, but you just got back. You look exhausted, worked all day. You really want to drive up to the inn and see if there’s room and then drive somewhere else if there isn’t?”

His voice had gone all husky and sweet, and her resolve dipped down to join her energy.

“I could call ahead. See if they have a room,” she said weakly.

His smile was indulgent. He tugged a lock of her hair, a move that should have been playful, but instead had her wondering what it’d be like to feel him tangle his fingers in it.

“Then you’ll have to figure out what to do for dinner. I have minestrone soup in the crockpot. It’s been simmering all day,” he said.

Did he just move closer? His words made her stomach growl, and when he glanced down and laughed, she groaned with embarrassment. Her appetite was hit or miss lately, but at the mention of food—homemade soup no less—her belly jumped fully on board.

“Come on,” he said, holding out his hand.

She tried to stay strong. “Declan, seriously, you don’t need to take care of me. You wouldn’t do this for any person you hired off the street.”

When he stepped closer, so their bodies were lined up perfectly—it was hard not to just lay her head against his chest—he stared down at her intently, his brows furrowed.

“No. I wouldn’t. But you’re not just anyone. You’re the little sister of one of my oldest friends. I won’t push you to go to your parents’, since you seem hell-bent on not going, but it’s stupid for you not to crash at my place until you figure things out.”

With a heavy sigh, she lost the rest of her arguments against the idea. “Okay. If you’re sure. And only because I wouldn’t want to be stupid.”

He grinned and stepped back. “I didn’t say you were. The idea was. Plus, the minestrone?”

Her smile reappeared. “I had you pegged as more of a body shots kind of guy. Definitely not as a crockpot user.” Not that she’d let that sway her. If the way he looked in those jeans and his rumbling laugh weren’t enough to veto her ban on men, then she wasn’t getting pulled under by soup.

Declan’s laugh was rich and tickled the nerve endings along her skin. “If you tell anyone, I’ll make you clean the deep fryer.”

They walked out the back, still laughing. She went for her car and said she’d follow him, but he held tight to her hand. She stared down at their clasped fingers, and he let go quickly, like he’d just realized they were still touching.

“You’ll follow me?” He looked down at her like he was searching for secrets.

“I will. Maybe you should give me the address in case you still drive like Vin Diesel.”

Declan feigned insult. “I’m a great driver.”

Sophia poked him in the hard belly, trying to lighten the mood. It was something she’d do to her brother. But she didn’t feel anything remotely sibling-like toward Declan. Unfortunately. She could feel the muscles even through his Gore-Tex jacket. “My oldest sister, Viola, had a major crush on you back in the day. My mom always told her that none of her girls would be riding around with Declan the Speed Demon.”

His mouth dropped open. “Your mom loves me!”

“Sure. If you’re not driving her daughters.”

Declan arched his brows playfully. “Viola had a thing for me, huh?”

Unexpected jealousy over the thought that this might please him made her frown.

Declan laughed at her expression. “Was she the only one?”

Oh, this is a bad idea. Bad idea. Bad idea. Sophia was exceptionally good at making bad decisions. But that stopped when she’d packed her things and headed for home. She wouldn’t wander down any more paths that said one-way. And Declan James, crockpot and four-bedroom house aside, had always been a no-strings-attached guy. Truthfully, Sophia had so many strings hanging off her at the moment, it was a wonder she didn’t trip herself.

“I’ll see you at your place,” she said.

The drive gave her time to center herself, a little. In between yawning and watching the road—which was mostly empty—she felt the tug of her past. She’d grown up on these quiet streets with their shops and businesses that had sat in the same place for generations. There were new shops she’d never been in and ones that surprised her, like a Starbucks on Main Street—Brockton Point had officially arrived if there was a chain store on the main drag.

But every place she passed, new or old, reminded her that she’d loved it here. She loved her family, contrary to her father’s harsh accusations when she’d told him she wasn’t sticking around to be part of the restaurant. At eighteen, Sophia had felt like a human doll—she did what she was told, wore what was expected, dated only those few boys approved by her father, and never stepped out of line.

“And now you’re back,” she muttered, following Declan’s sleek black Cherokee.

She’d expected something…flashier. But it suited him. Large, capable, it had presence like the man himself. This morning, when she’d finally rolled into town, she hadn’t been sure how her day would end up. Marcus had told her a few weeks ago that Declan was looking for a manager. It was just casual conversation—mostly him talking about the craft beer venture, his excitement over it, and him worrying about telling their dad he wanted to devote more time to it. Marcus probably hadn’t given a second thought to the offhanded comment that Dec needed someone. That’s how life went, though. Things that were meant to be nothing could be game changers.

Something clicked for Sophia, and she knew it was time to lay down her cards and walk away from the mess she’d made. It was time to go home, to see if there was any truth to the old adage “you can’t go home again.” Even if things hadn’t gone so far sideways, the decision to come home had felt…inevitable. All of the things that had happened over the last several months had culminated in the feeling that if she ever wanted to truly belong anywhere, she needed to go back where she started.

Declan’s signal went on, pulling Sophia from her thoughts, and she turned right, following him up a quiet, winding road lined with snow-covered trees and lawns. At the end of the street, he turned left into a driveway, and she pulled up beside him. Grabbing her purse, she pushed the door open with one hand, nearly knocking it into him. He skirted the door and stood in the opening, offering his hand. Sophia looked up, her breath caught in her chest, and slid her hand into his. He was her brother’s friend. A family friend. Someone she’d grown up with. He was thoughtful, gallant in a world that seemed to have forgotten manners. It means absolutely nothing.

With a little tug from him, Sophia stood and then released his hand as quickly as she could. She didn’t want to feel the vulnerability tumbling around in her chest, and if he kept being so…sweet…she wasn’t sure if she could keep her emotions wrapped tightly.

“You have luggage?” He closed the door behind her and went to the trunk.

She followed. “I do, but I can just bring in my overnight bag.”

When she popped the trunk, he grabbed both suitcases and left the bag for her, his arched eyebrows daring her to complain. She grinned and closed the trunk. Following him up the drive, she stopped and took a minute to appreciate the house.

Declan glanced back at her. “I moved in about four months ago. I took one look at the porch and was hooked. Then I saw the view from the dining room and knew I couldn’t walk away.”

There was a detached garage to the left of the little bungalow and a small path between that and the house. Though the shrubs and trees were dusted with a thin layer of snow, she could imagine how lovely it would be in the spring, flowers and blossoms lining the little path. The whitewashed porch railings, arched roof, and dark shutters on the windows gave the house a storybook feeling.

“It’s incredible. Even on a street with other houses, it feels removed. Like its own little world.”

Declan gestured with his chin toward the front door. “Let’s get in. Your jacket doesn’t look warm enough to hold out the chill.”

She walked toward him, and he gave her a smile that tipped her stomach upside down.

“Rookie,” he muttered as she passed in front of him.

Laughing, she took the steps up and waited for him to unlock the door. “I might have to add to my wardrobe. Arizona isn’t exactly known for the chill in the air.”

He nodded, pushed the door open, and let her go through first. Once he set her two suitcases down, he shut the door behind him and threw his keys on a table next to the door. She heard him shrug out of his jacket and turned to see him hang it on the coat rack. She pulled hers off and passed it over when he held out a hand.

He gestured to the wide-open space. “This is my house. And yours as long as you need it to be.”

Her throat grew thick, and she focused on looking around. She would not cry just because an old family friend who thought of her like a baby sister was showing so much kindness. Maybe if you hadn’t surrounded yourself with jackasses and jerks in the last several years, a little kindness wouldn’t feel so overwhelming.

“This is beautiful, Dec.” Directly in front of her was a wide white staircase. Four steps led to a landing that led to another out-of-sight set. To the right, glass French doors revealed what looked like an office. Between the stairs and his office, she could see pieces of the kitchen—the edge of a large island and a couple of stools. The living room was to her left, the back of an oversized plush gray couch separating it from the entryway. A huge television hung on the wall above a low fireplace surrounded in small gray bricks.

There wasn’t much furniture, but the house was welcoming, like a hug. The soft gray walls and wide crown moldings showed attention to detail. There was a small arched doorway leading from the living room to another area, and she couldn’t wait to see if it connected with the kitchen on the other side.

Declan put a hand to the small of her back, and she inhaled deeply. Fatigue and hunger battled for first place inside of her. She wanted to see the rest of the house, but lately, those two feelings made a lot of her decisions.

“Upstairs are the bedrooms. There’s a bathroom there.” He pointed down a small hallway before the kitchen and to a door on the left side. “The other door goes to the laundry room.” He nudged her through the large molded opening into a gorgeous kitchen with a view of the water that stopped her in her tracks.

“Oh my,” she whispered. From one side of the large room to the other, the wall was lined with windows. His decent-sized, fenced yard was a cliff of sorts. It overlooked a large outcropping of rocks and the ocean, where the waves were currently pounding against the rocks, cresting and retreating in a lulling rhythm that drew her nearer. Walking past the giant island in the center of his kitchen, she stopped at the windows.

She could almost feel the spray of the ocean, smell the salty fragrance she’d grown up loving. Declan stood close to her, his arm grazing hers, and watched the waves with her. The moment was so close to perfect, tears threatened. She swallowed them down and kept staring at the waves.

This. She’d come home for this—the peace that came with being surrounded by what she knew.

Her parents were still angry with her, but she’d make them see she was happy with the person she’d become. Nothing was perfect, but she wouldn’t change who she was and wouldn’t be that person now if she hadn’t chosen to follow her own path.

Declan nudged her with his hip. “Pretty awesome, huh?”

Turning, not thinking about how close they were, she tilted her head back. “It’s absolutely perfect.”

He stared at her, and she didn’t miss the way his eyes wandered to her lips. She licked them, suddenly nervous, and heard his sharp inhale. He stepped back, and it wasn’t until she was standing alone that she realized his delicious scent had overridden the one coming from the kitchen.

“Mmmm. It’s been so long since I had a good minestrone,” she said. Pretending her eyelids weren’t feeling heavier by the minute, she walked to the crockpot while he went to the fridge.

“I’ve got some of those crescent roll things. I’ll pop them into the oven and then show you where you’ll sleep.”

Inhaling the aroma of spices, she turned with a smile. He was pulling a bottle of red wine from a built-in rack next to the stainless steel fridge. He grabbed two glasses from the cupboard next to the rack, and Sophia’s stomach cramped.

“Uh, do you have any ginger ale?”

He looked up through lowered lashes, a teasing smile on his lips. “I won’t tell your parents if you have a glass of wine.”

Ha. If only my liking a good glass of red was the worst thing he could tell them. “I’m kind of tired from the drive. I don’t want to pass out before I taste your soup.”

His eyes held hers a moment. “Ginger ale it is. You don’t mind if I have a glass, do you?”

She moved to the island and slipped onto a stool. “Of course not.” He passed her a can of soda, and she watched as he twisted the can of packed crescent rolls, jumping even though she was expecting the pop.

“Can I do anything?” It was no hardship to watch him move around his kitchen with ease. She could sit here for a long time, forgetting that the real world was as rough as those waves pounding the rocks outside.

“Nah. I’m a pro at these.”

Sophia laughed then took a sip of her soda. The bubbles settled her stomach some. “Again, I figured you for a raw steak kind of guy.”

Declan rolled the little pastries into crescents with ease. One side of his lips tipped up. “You seem to have a lot of preconceived notions about me.”

The ink winding around his right wrist, trailing up his arm, was mesmerizing. Wow. You need some sleep. She couldn’t be too hard on herself, though. When she was growing up, there hadn’t been a girl around who didn’t want to be on Declan’s arm. Since those long-ago days, he’d only gotten bigger and sexier. Throw in this little dash of domesticity and Sophia would be sunk if she wasn’t absolutely solid in her decision to go it alone. Never again would she open herself up to having her heart beaten up on. Nor would she let anyone take control of who she was or what she wanted.

She’d let her ex make far too many decisions on her behalf, both at work and in their personal life. At the time, it had seemed like the easiest solution, like she was good at compromising. Instead, she’d lost a piece of herself. And a large chunk of her savings. Not to mention her self-esteem and a whole host of other things. You can’t change the past. You’re moving forward. She’d left home to be independent and come home for the same reason.

The worst kind of bookends for all the mistakes she’d made.

“Am I wrong?” She gestured to him. “Are you telling me with all that ink, a Harley, and a big-ass SUV, not to mention your rep as a ladies’ man, you really think you give off the homey, biscuit-making, soft vibe you’re showing me?”

His chuckle was deep and rumbly and made goose bumps dot her skin. She rubbed her hand against them. Declan put the rolls in the oven, set the timer, and came around the counter. He stopped when he was just in front of her, his abdomen all but touching her knees.

“People grow up, Sophia. You sure as hell did,” he said.

When his eyes raked over her body again, she felt the warmth zing all the way through her and commended herself on not leaning forward and taking comfort in his solid presence. Adrenaline and determination were the only things keeping her upright. She needed a hot shower, a warm bed, and a big pillow that could muffle the tears she wanted to shed.

“Sometimes appearances are deceiving. I thought I’d grown up when I left. Now I’m back, and I feel like I’m starting all over.”

He shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest. “What’s wrong with starting over? Not like you’re starting from scratch. You’re smart, educated, beautiful. I’d say you’ve got a firm foundation for anything you’re after. You’ve always been a little different from the rest of your family. Nothing wrong with that—and nothing bad about coming home when you’ve finished seeing what the world has to offer.”

With the scent of soup and his cologne surrounding them and his eyes nearly warmer than the room, she felt the rest of the world recede like the waves. “You never left.”

“I didn’t need to. It’s okay that you did, Sophia.”

Lowering her eyes to his chest, she said the words strangling her heart. “They won’t think so. I don’t know if they’ll forgive me for leaving.”

Declan tapped his hands on the counter, clearly waiting for her to meet his stare. Her breathing went shallow, and she forced her gaze upward. What she saw bolstered her strength.

“They’re your family. They love you. It’s going to be okay. You didn’t knock over a bunch of banks. You spread your wings. They might not have liked it, but there’s nothing to forgive in that.”

He didn’t know her family as well as he thought he did. They were traditional, strict. Family was everything. Walking away wasn’t done. That was part of why Marcus was struggling with telling their dad about his side venture. Disappointing their parents was a heavy weight to carry. In Sophia’s case, it was worse. Walking away for a dream she couldn’t even put into words was shameful. Coming back when those things fell apart was…unthinkable.

She huffed out a breath, tired of worrying. Tired of thinking. “Doesn’t really matter. I came back because this is my home. They’ll have to accept that.” She hoped they would. And not just for her sake.

Declan smiled easily. “Come on. I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping.”

“Thanks again for letting me crash,” she said. When his hand rested at the base of her spine, a tingling awareness rippled up and out, spreading over her body. A casual touch shouldn’t make her heart jump. But his did. He dropped his palm to grab her suitcases, and she hooked her overnight bag on her shoulder.

The wooden stairs were as shiny as the rest of the floor, and she wondered if he had a cleaner. The upstairs of the home was every bit as lovely as the rest of the house. The wide square landing had four doors leading off it. The carpet beneath her feet was plush and warm.

Declan pointed to the first door to the right of the stairs. “My workout stuff is in there. You’re welcome to it. Or are you still a runner?”

She smiled. She’d held the Brockton Point record for long-distance running. “Haven’t run in a while, but it’s still my preference.”

“There’s a treadmill in there.”

She nodded as he opened the next door, and a smile turned to a laugh. “The playroom?”

The room was a shrine to all things Lego. Walls of shelves, lined with Lego sets, surrounded the room. A wide window, blinds drawn, took up most of one wall, so there were no shelves there, but there was a table below it with baskets of comic books that looked ruthlessly organized.

“It’s, uh…a hobby room.”

She bit her lip and looked up at him, worried about how adorably sexy he was. She was in no place for a man, but Declan James wasn’t just any man. And she got the feeling he didn’t share this part of himself with just anyone.

“Looks like a lot of work and time,” she said seriously.

He smiled and nodded. “Yeah. Charlie, Adam’s son? Loves it in here.”

So did Dec, that much was clear. Pulling the door shut, he walked to the next one. She peeked in and saw a gorgeous bathroom with a clawfoot tub, separate shower big enough for a family of four, and double sinks.

“I don’t use this one, but there are some soaps and girly things like that in the cupboards.”

She laughed. “Keep it stocked up for all your girlfriends, do you? Very considerate.”

He turned quickly, and she stepped back, surprised. His eyes went dark with intensity. “I’ve never brought a woman here. The only women who have been here are Megan and Stella. You met Meg. Stella is her best friend and engaged to Zach.”

It seemed important to him that she realize that, even though it had been a joke, she was dead wrong. “I was teasing.” She wondered if he was making things clear for a reason or just to set the record straight.

His shoulders seemed to relax. “I don’t want you to feel that way. Like I just open my house to a parade of women. They don’t take numbers at the door or anything. I know I have a reputation, but most of it is shit. You should know that better than anyone. When you left town, you know the kind of stuff that was said. People gossip, they turn nothing into something like straw into gold. I’ve never led a woman into believing something I wasn’t willing to follow through on.” He paused, stared at her a beat, and in a lower voice added, “I haven’t even been on a date in four months. Nobody’s talking about that, though. Just the past.”

She set her bag down and stepped closer. “I’m sorry. No more jokes about what I think I know about you. You’re right when you say I should know better. I’ve come home wanting people to see who I am now. I should offer you the same courtesy.”

He nodded and turned away from her, and she breathed through her nose, trying to settle her pulse. There were two doorways on the left side of the stairs, and he opened the one next to the bathroom. It had a little window seat that overlooked the water and had pretty throw pillows lining the edge. A double bed made up with a plain, dark comforter took up the center of the room. A nondescript dresser and desk sat against one wall, and bi-fold doors lined another.

Declan set her suitcases next to the closet. He stared at the bed. “I’m serious when I say you can stay here as long as you need. No need for you to go to a hotel.”

Sophia threw her bag onto the bed and waited until he looked at her. “I appreciate this, Dec. I really do. I wasn’t sure what to expect, coming home. I still don’t know what it’ll be like when I face my parents, but knowing someone…isn’t unhappy to see me, it’s a comfort. So, thanks.”

Declan moved around the bed and stood next to her, staring down at her, his hands in his pockets. “I can’t imagine anyone being unhappy to see you, Sophia. Maybe it’s time to push away your assumptions about everything and find out what’s real. You won’t know until you face them. And things are always worse in your head while you’re imagining them than they end up being.”

Sophia took a shuddery breath. Declan reached out and pulled her into a hug that she was positive he meant to be brotherly. But as her arms went around his sculpted back and her head rested on his hard chest, the strength of him, the feel of him against her felt like so much more.

Being wrapped in his arms felt like a second chance.

He stroked a hand down her hair and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Why don’t you shower, get cozy, and I’ll get dinner set up. You want to watch Netflix or something?”

She leaned back, stepped away. “That sounds perfect.” He nodded and, with an expression she couldn’t read, left the room. Perfect. As if anything could ever be that way. Not for her. Sophia had fallen so far down the rabbit hole, her only option was to take up residence in Wonderland. Unzipping her bag to grab some fresh clothes, she smiled. If Declan’s home was Wonderland, she’d be happy to stay lost in the madness forever. Unfortunately, real life would intrude soon enough. And she’d be back where she started. Alone.

Sort of.