Page 25 of My Husband Problem

But he doesn’t have to like it. No one does.

Because I do.

Declan doesn’t say anything, and I finally turn and lead him out into the living room.

It’s not like I need to point out which appliance is the refrigerator, and if he needs a plate, he can open the cabinets and find one.

Besides, I intend to be up before him in the morning anyway to make my husband breakfast on his first morning in Rebel.

Declan thinks he’s going to have a relaxing week in Louisiana? Then he needs to taste the local cuisine. I’ve been wanting to try my hand at buttermilk biscuits and gravy.

I lead him through the living room and across the thick brown shag carpet.

The house isn’t big, so it’s easy for him to get his bearings as he takes in the green couch, yellow armchair, and coffee tablein the wood-paneled front room. The lamps sitting on the side tables are actually new additions. I found a fantastic website that sells vintage seventies decor, and I have found several pieces for the house that fit right in while also letting me put my own touch on things.

We stop at the top of the staircase.

“There are two guestrooms. You can take your pick. The bigger one is the second on the right. It’s also closest to the bathroom. It should have everything you need. Linens are in the closet in the hall.”

He nods. “Is that the room Miles stays in when he’s here?”

“It is.”

I expect him to say that he’ll take the other room then. Instead, he says, “Great. You can now consider it my room.”

Oh, I definitely will. I have a sinking feeling that after even one day with Declan here, I won’t be able to think of any space in this house without remembering him.

But I’m not going to let on.

“If he left anything in the side table, feel free to use it. You’ll just have to replace it.”

I see the barest flicker in his eyes, and if I wasn’t looking for a reaction, I would’ve missed it. That poked him just a little.

“But Miles won’t be staying here anymore, right? He’ll be moving in across the street.”

I shrug. “We’ll probably still have sleepovers from time to time. We like to stay up really late watching movies.”

Declan’s eyes narrow. “And he can’t stumble his way across the street?”

“It would just be easier for him to stay. Especially if we’re going to have brunch in the morning. Or it might be raining or something.”

He steps closer, and I think that he’s going to touch me until Oscar hisses.

Declan stops and looks down at the cat, then back up at me. “Challenge accepted.”

My heart thumps, even though I don’t know what he’s talking about. “Challenge?”

“To be the best sleepover you’ve ever had.”

My entire body reacts to that. Of course, it does. I swear the man could sneeze, and I would get tingly.

Then, with that, he turns, twists the knob to the guestroom, steps inside, and closes the door between us.

No kiss. No lingering look or a wink. Not even one of those smirky half-smiles.

Which, of course, I should be happy about.

Iamhappy about those things.