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Annabelle
“Jesus, Dec. You scared the hell out of me.” My hands fly to my chest, trying to calm the wild beating of my heart. I move to the sound system and power it down, then spin on my not-so-little intruder. “Mind telling me how exactly you got in here?”
Declan stiffens before my eyes. He looks good. Really good. Worn jeans and a navy blue peacoat over a gray thermal shirt. He’s got a Notre Dame ball cap on, covering his dark brown locks I had so much fun holding on to on Saturday night.
Shit. How am I supposed to handle him in my space when I’m trying so desperately to push him out of my head?
“I came in the front door. It was unlocked.” He holds up a brown paper bag. “I was at my Dad’s and thought I’d see if you needed lunch. I grabbed us sandwiches from the place on the corner.”
He brought me lunch? I have to stop myself from crying. Over. Lunch.
What the hell?
I can’t remember how long it’s been since anyone has brought me a meal that wasn’t pizza for a girl’s night.
Declan mistakes my silence for annoyance and drops his hand and the bag down by his jeans-clad thigh. “Sorry, Belle.” He sounds cold. Distant. “I just wanted to do something nice for you. You know, since you helped me out last weekend.”
I reach for him but come up short when he steps back at the same time. “I shouldn’t have presumed.”
Dammit. “Declan...” I step forward, a pleading tone in my voice. I want to beg him to stay. Instead, I opt for, “Want to eat in my office?” I check the front door to make sure it’s locked and then walk down the hallway to my office before pushing him down on the gray sofa and grabbing us each a bottle of water from my bag.
“I wasn’t trying to intrude, Annabelle. Friends need lunch.” The hard edge to his voice tells me I’m screwing this up, but he tries to hide it behind a crooked smile.
I hand him a bottle of water and sit on the arm of the couch. “Three years ago...” I whisper softly.
Declan has no idea what I’m trying to tell him. I honestly have no idea why I’m even trying to tell him this, but I want him to know. Declan leans back against the couch and gives me his full attention.
He’s good at that.
Making you feel like you’re the only thing that matters.
“Three years ago, I danced the Sugar Plum Fairy in The Nutcracker. I couldn’t come home for Christmas because we had a show the day before and the day after. I came home the first week in January for five days. It was the last time someone brought me lunch.” I catch myself nervously playing with the bottle in my hand and force myself to stop and meet Declan’s eyes. “I’m not used to this, Dec. I take care of Tommy, and I run this studio...” I don’t even know what I’m trying to tell him.
“Annabelle.” Declan pulls on my calf until I scooch down next to him on the couch. “I’m trying to respect your wishes here. You want to be friends, and that’s what I’m trying to give you.” There’s sincerity in his voice, but it’s the twinkle in his eyes that’s telling me that’s not all he wants. “Make no mistake, Belles, I want more. But if being friends is all you can do right now, then friends works for me. In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t have a ton of them in this city either.”
Feeling a weight lift from my shoulders, I relax into the couch. “So, what did you bring for lunch?”
The next night, I’m soaking in a bubble bath with a glass of wine, my kindle synched to my favorite sexy book series, and a candle burning when my phone pings, alerting me to a text. I’ve only just gotten Tommy to bed and slipped into the warm water, so I ignore the first ping. My eyes close, and I rest my head back, enjoying the momentary peace and quiet before two more pings interrupt my silence.
It’s got to be the girls. They’re the only ones who ever text me. Grumbling, I grab my phone.
This better be important.
When I look down at my phone and see that there’s a name assigned to the text chain, I chuckle, knowing it’s definitely not the girls.
This has to be Coach’s doing.
Sinclair/Murphy Family Group Text
Coach Sinclair:Sorry for the group text. This seemed like the best way to get this information out. We got a letter from Cooper today. It appears he’ll be home a week before Christmas until January second. Katie and I would like to get married on New Year’s Eve at a private estate north of the city. We want to start off the new year as a family. We’ve reserved every room they offer for the weekend.
Declan:Did you really name the text chain, Dad?
Nattie:Aww, Dad! That’s perfect!
Coach Sinclair:You and Brady will have two rooms.
Nattie:What?
