Page 393 of Manhattan Bossholes

No, I thought, it can’t be.

But it was.

The man in question stepped into view, and my heart just shimmered. It was Declan, tall, proud, and handsome as ever. His dark hair and blue eyes made him look especially striking, like a fairy king invading the human court.

When his eyes locked on mine, I felt more than seen. I felt claimed.

People parted for Declan as he strode to me.

“Declan, I…what are you doing here?” Then a moment of fear stole through me. He wouldn’t have come here without a good reason. “Is Catie all right?”

“She’s fine. She’s with my mum.” He came to a halt in front of me. For a moment, I thought he would reach for me, but he stopped at the last second and put his hands in his pockets instead. He looked over his shoulder to see everyone staring at him. Hastily, they looked away.

He rolled his eyes and turned back to me. “Look, I don’t particularly want to be here. But you said it would make you happy. So…”

My heart was beating too fast, my body understanding things my mind wasn’t ready to.

I wet my lips. “I…I don’t think I realized the extent of what I was asking for, Declan. I’m sorry. When I asked you to come, I really just wanted to spend time with you.”

He smiled, a certain light in his eyes that was just for me. “That’s convenient. Because I want to spend time with you.”

“Oh.” I was blushing. I couldn’t quite believe he was here. The proudest man I knew was temporarily laying down that pride to show up for me. Even though we’d fought. Even though he didn’t agree with me.

No one had ever done that for me before.

He glanced around. “Weren’t you supposed to be here with Molly?”

“She’s dancing,” I said. “So is Thomas.”

He held out his hand. “Shall we join them?”

“Oh, I don’t…some of these people really know what they’re doing.”

He laughed. “I won’t make you step dance, if that’s what you’re afraid of. Come on, a ghrá. Dance with me.”

I slipped my hand into Declan’s and let him pull me toward the bonfire. As we approached, the musicians finished their frenzied reel and slipped into something slower and softer. A middle-aged woman with a wineglass in her hand sat down next to the musicians and started singing something sad and lilting in Gaelic.

Declan pulled me into his arms. I looped my hands behind his neck, and we swayed together in the flickering firelight.

“What’s this song about?” I asked. “It sounds so sad.”

“It’s an old trad tune about Fionn and Sadhbh. They sing it every year.”

I leaned against him, liking the possessive, protective feel of his hands on my waist. “It sounds so much sadder than the movie feels.”

“Most of the song is about the end of the tale,” Declan explained. “The part where the dark wizard shows up when Fionn is away at war. He turns Sadhbh back into a deer, and Fionn never sees her again, no matter how hard he searches.”

“That was my least favorite part of the movie,” I said. “She finally found a home, and then it was ripped away from her.”

“It’s not all bad,” Declan said, smiling down at me. “He finds a fawn in the woods and recognizes it as their child. And when the child comes home, the spell is broken again, and they live happily together.”

“But what about Sadhbh?” I pointed out. “We don’t even find out what happens to her. We just know she loses her home, and her man, and finally her child.”

“Shhh, love.” Declan cupped my cheek. “It’s just a story.”

I didn’t realize I was upset until I felt his calming touch against my skin.

I closed my eyes briefly. “I know. I’m being silly. I just wish she had a happier ending.”