Chapter Six

Declan gripped the edge of his countertop, hanging his head between his knotted shoulders. Fuck. He’d made it thirty-two years without having a woman mess up his head. But Sophia? Yeah, she was in his head, under his skin, and he wanted her in a whole host of other places, too. It was more than attraction: something he didn’t entirely recognize, which told him he was in trouble. The vulnerability she didn’t want to show under that steel spine might be his undoing.

Pushing away from the counter, ignoring the little voice telling him this would be the one to flip him on his ass, he grabbed bowls and plates, trying to focus on menial tasks.

Like there was any chore he could do that would keep the idea of Sophia showering out of his head. She was such a contradiction—soft strength. Her skin felt like silk under his fingers, but that backbone was made of steel. She’s hurting, vulnerable, a friend’s sister, a goddamn employee. He wondered if there was anything he could put on a list that would make his heart calm the hell down when she stood close to him. You can feel it; you just can’t act on it. You can’t do one goddamn thing about it.

Shaking his head with a frustrated sigh, he set two places at the island and grabbed his phone. Keeping his perspective was going to be a lot harder than he ever imagined. Starting a text, he paused, deleted. Started again, then put his phone down. Divided loyalty sucked. Which was why he never put himself in that position.

Declan picked up his wine and walked to the wall of windows to stare out at the ocean. He felt like that inside: wild, reckless, crashing against an unyielding surface. The storm inside of him raged, vacillating between the need to protect her—even though she wouldn’t want it—and the realization that he should text his friend.

“Get your head on straight,” he muttered.

Declan didn’t have any deep, dark secrets that had made him veer away from serious—which, in his mind was more than a couple dates—relationships. His parents were still married and had no issues showing their love for one another. He liked women. Declan laughed out loud. Scratch that. He fucking loved women. He loved the way they smelled when they walked into a room, the way their gaze could say so much without saying a word. He loved their minds, bodies, their ideas and views on everything. They fascinated him, so he’d never been tempted to stick with just one.

He wasn’t an asshole. He made his intentions clear and never lied to anyone he hooked up with. They knew the score going in, and while some women over the years, especially in the last few, had wanted more, he’d made it clear he didn’t. And he truly hadn’t. Then, like a switch flipping inside of him, he did. And he had no idea what to do with the want. The desire to have someone the way Adam had Meg, Zach had Stella, or his buddy Parker had Garrett. One day, he was happy with eternal singledom. The next? He was imagining a life not so…alone.

When Adam and Megan had gotten married last year, that switch had flipped in his head or his heart. First, he’d thought the restlessness could be quelled with buying a house, but he’d known, deep down, he wanted something else. He wanted to stop playing around. He wanted someone to come home to.

The sound of water turned off, and Declan forced himself out of his thoughts to grab the rolls from the oven where they were keeping warm. By the time Sophia walked into the kitchen, her soft footfalls alerting him just seconds before the scent of her shampoo wrapped around him, he’d served up dinner.

When he turned to face her, his breath caught, like he’d been sucker punched. His eyes locked on Sophia’s, and he couldn’t stop himself from staring. The muscles around his heart actually spasmed, and Declan lost his breath.

“Jesus, you’re…” Stunning. “You look good.” His voice came out like sandpaper, hardly recognizable to his own ears.

Sophia touched a hand to her hair, giving him an incredulous look as she laughed. “Is it the slicked back wet hair or the yoga pants doing it for you?” She thought he was joking, but the heavy thud of his heart in his chest reminded him: he wasn’t.

He’d seen women dressed in designer gowns, sexy-as-sin lingerie, and absolutely nothing at all. Somehow, dressed like she was ready for a night on the couch, curled under a warm blanket, with not one speck of makeup on, Sophia Strombi made him ache. You are in seriously deep shit.

“I’m not joking. You look better than good, Sophia. You’re beautiful. Whatever happened in Arizona with your guy? He’s an idiot.” That was the truth. A safe one. Friend’s little sister or not, the guy who’d hurt her was an asshat.

He gestured to one of the bar stools, waited while she boosted herself on it, and then sat beside her. She leaned down and inhaled deeply. When her stomach rumbled, he laughed, grateful the tension he felt dialed down a few notches.

She looked at him, a touch of pink flushing her cheeks. “Sorry. I should have eaten sooner.”

Frowning, Declan buttered a roll and passed it to her. She took a large bite, which made him smile again.

“You can eat at the pub. We don’t have a huge menu, and most of it is fried, but the cooks will make you whatever you want.”

When she swallowed, she shook her head. “Once I get settled, I’ll probably just bring a lunch. Cheaper, and I don’t want to get in the habit of eating out every day. Though, if you eat there, it doesn’t seem to be doing you any harm.” Her eyes roamed his profile, and heat seemed to spread from the inside of his chest out.

Declan scooped up some soup and let the moment pass, like it didn’t please him that she liked what she saw. They needed to be careful, keep things on safe, platonic ground. He searched his brain for a topic that would put them there.

“So, you’ve got the pub and the house. What else keeps you busy?”

He lifted one shoulder. “My toys. I like my vehicles. There’s a Mustang and a Harley in the garage. I spend a lot of my time at the bar, but when I’m not there, I’m here or maybe hanging out with Adam and Meg. Every now and again, I get Charlie for a night. He’s a great kid. You’ll meet him on Saturday.” The back of his neck itched with the thought of her joining his friends for the evening. Or maybe not the thought of that so much as the idea of wanting her there. Because she’s on her own and needs to meet some people while she’s fixing whatever she thinks is broken.

“This is delicious, by the way. My mom would be proud. And I didn’t mean to insert myself into your weekend plans. I didn’t really know how to decline politely,” she said, spooning up another bite.

“Thanks. Why would you decline?” Though it’d be a hell of a lot easier for him if she did. He couldn’t see loosening up and just kicking back with friends while she was there. Not if the same tangible energy he felt just sitting beside her was going to be a long-term thing. Maybe he’d made a mistake hiring her. Hiring her? How about asking her to stay here? Maybe if he’d had a date in the last several weeks, he wouldn’t be so off-kilter. But no, his brain and his heart had gone all discerning, and he hadn’t felt like anyone clicked.

“I just don’t want to intrude or impose,” she said, looking down at her food.

Declan’s heart muscles contracted sharply at the sadness in her tone. Something more than just needing to be home had brought her back to Brockton Point. She needs a friend. And since he couldn’t be anything else, he’d damn well be that.

Putting a hand on her shoulder, he squeezed. She glanced up at him through thick black lashes.

“You couldn’t do either. You’ll like everyone. Stella is engaged to Zach. They’re both vets.”

“Stella Lane?”

Declan nodded, thinking about how the vet had once felt very much like he did about long-term commitment. Meeting Zach had brought her around. Flipped her switch, so to speak.

“Yeah, Doc Lane died a couple years back. Stella took over his practice. She wasn’t sure for a little while if she’d be able to keep it running, but now she’s brought on Zach, and things are thriving.”

“Zach who she’s engaged to?”

Declan smiled. “Yeah. They run the place together.”

Sophia winced. “Workplace romances are not always the best idea.”

On that they agreed. Maybe they could remind each other of that fact. He scooped up the last of his soup and tried to sound nonchalant when he asked, “You speaking from experience?” His phone buzzed on the counter, but he ignored it.

She gave a half laugh, half sigh. “Unfortunately.”

He waited. She kept eating and didn’t look over again. Declan finished his bun and gathered up his own dishes, trying not to push or rush her. When he set them by the sink, he turned back to face Sophia. She was still studying her soup.

“You want to talk about it?”

She shook her head. Declan sighed and ran both hands through his hair. Stalking over with more irritation than he’d meant to display, he watched her head snap up.

“If you want to talk, if you need anything, you can turn to me, Sophia.”

She tilted her head and studied him a moment. “Because you think, as a friend of my brother’s, you need to look out for me?”

Because he wanted to pull her into a hug, he shoved his hands into his pockets and gave her most of the truth. “I’d like to be your friend. You seem like you could use one.”

Her smile softened. “I could. Thanks, Dec. You’re a good guy.”

Declan scoffed. A good guy would not be imagining pulling the elastic from her hair and watching all those gorgeous, thick, and dark locks trail over her honey-colored skin. Some of what he was thinking must have shown in his gaze, because hers darkened, and the air went electric.

The doorbell rang, and Sophia actually startled. “Are you expecting company?” She rushed off the stool, grabbing her dishes. “I’m probably cramping your style. I’m sorry. I’ll be out of your way in a minute. Thank you for dinner.”

Declan frowned and looked at the clock over the stove. It was only nine. Hardly late, but he wasn’t expecting anyone. Sophia was around the island, offloading her dishes before he could stop her, but when she turned to race from the room, he took her by the shoulders. She looked up at him, and he couldn’t read her face. Who the hell did she think he had coming over?

“Stop. You don’t need to leave the room.”

She glanced toward the entryway then leaned into him, filling him with her sweet, citrusy scent. He bit back a growl and the deep urge to bury his nose in her neck.

“You’d tell me if you had a date, right?” Her voice was strained.

His fingers flexed on her slender shoulders. “I would, but I’m not sure it would do any good, since apparently you didn’t hear me earlier when I said I do not bring women here. Whatever gossip you’ve believed all these years, you need to adjust your thinking.”

He wasn’t sure why it mattered so much to him, but he didn’t want her thinking he was some small-town Lothario that left a trail of hearts in his wake.

Sophia stared at his chest. “Sorry. I just… I’m tired. You have company, so I’ll head upstairs.”

Declan shook his head again. “Don’t rush off. It’s probably just a neighbor.” There were a few older couples in the neighborhood who asked for help now and again.

Sophia seemed hesitant but hung back out of sight of the door as he swung it open. Declan’s mouth dropped open, and pure instinctive reflex had him blocking the opening before his friend, Marcus, could step through.

“Hey, man. I texted you a couple times. Let me in. It’s cold.”

Declan’s skin buzzed, and his gut cramped. “Uh. Now isn’t a good time.”

Marcus’s dark hair was wet, but he ran a hand through it anyway, a sly smirk tilting up his lips. “Shit. Sorry, man. Thought you had a rule about bringing chicks here.”

Yeah, yeah. Declan had a load of fucking rules. That he apparently ignored. He hated lying to his friend but couldn’t stomach the thought of upsetting Sophia. “Rules were meant to be broken,” Declan said with a swagger he did not feel even one ounce of.

“Whatever, man. I don’t care; just let me in. We gotta talk. It won’t take long.”

When Marcus wrapped his teeth around something, he was relentless.

“Give me a minute.” Declan shut the door in his friend’s face, feeling like a jerk, then locked it for good measure.

When he turned, Sophia was wringing her hands together, her face pale. “I’m putting you in a horrible position.” The words were low and full of regret.

The desire to wrap her up in his arms and pretend her brother wasn’t at the door was overwhelming. And unexpected.

“Don’t worry about that. You want to see him, I’ll open the door. You don’t, I still have to open it, but you can head upstairs, and I’ll get rid of him as fast as I can.”

Emotions passed over her face that he shouldn’t want to be responsible for. Gratitude. Relief. Her eyes locked on his, and she walked toward him. He thought she was going to tell him to open the door, but instead reached out and squeezed his arm with a look of relief in her pretty brown eyes. She mouthed the words, “Thank you.”

He watched as she hurried up the stairs, his eyes glued to the way her body moved, even as the scent of her shampoo lingered.

When he opened the door again, Marcus was glaring. He moved aside to let him in.

“Not cool, man. What the hell?”

“Sorry,” Declan muttered, shutting the door. “Just needed to give her a minute to head upstairs.” Sort of the truth. This is the reason those rules exist.

Marcus shook a bit of water off his hair as his grin returned. “You don’t usually date shy ones.”

Declan’s gut clenched. “Shut up, man.”

Marcus punched him in the shoulder. “Aw, you sensitive now? What’s the deal? This one got a hold of more than your balls?”

Jesus. He was going to end up in hell for this. “Seriously. Shut the hell up. What do you want?”

Marcus gave another tooth-baring grin. “Know that look. This one has you tangled up. Knew that day would come and I’m glad to see it, brother. Who is she?”

The noose Declan had created for himself tightened. “No one you know.”