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“Nana!”
“What? I just find it interesting that you are finally willing to settle down. What happened to swearing off men for the rest of your life?”
“Your ex proposed?” Declan’s eyes are lighter than usual.
I never admitted to him why I broke up with my ex a year ago. Declan probably thought we parted ways amicably, but the truth is Richard asked me to marry him.
I declined.
Hecried.
I thought we were on the same page with everything. It was my fault for not noticing the signs soon enough. The key to his place. A spare toothbrush he left at my apartment. The way he seemed too enthusiastic to offer me an entire half of his dresserandcloset—valuable space currency in Chicago.
After I broke his heart, I stopped dating. It wasn’t fair to lead men on if I wasn’t ready for commitment.
Yet you’re getting married to your boss, the small voice in my head whispers.
This is different. There are no preconceived notions or expectations. I’m simply doing this to help Declan achieve his goal, and once he does, I can move onto mine.
That’s what you’ve said for years.
“Poor man rented out a nice restaurant and everything for the occasion,” Mom adds.
“Ring in a glass of champagne?” Declan asks.
Mom nods. “Oh, yes. Iris nearly choked on it.”
I shoot her a withering glare.
“Rose petals on the table?”
“Yes!” Nana shouts. “Red. Herfavorite.”
Ihatecut flowers because I find them a waste of a perfectly good plant.
“Sounds like everything you love.” Declan’s gaze captures mine.What an asshole. “I wonder what went wrong.” His eyes shift back to my mom and grandma.
I despise the way he knows about everything I hate.
“I guess it wasn’t good enough because Iris over here flat-out rejected him,” Nana replies.
“How unfortunate.” Declan’s dry tone says everything words can’t.
He enjoys every single second of this.
This is not how dinner was supposed to go. My family was supposed to make Declan feel uncomfortable, notme.
“Unfortunate indeed.” Nana raises her glass in Declan’s direction. “Imagine if she had said yes.”
“With that kind of generic proposal, it’s a shocker that she didn’t.” He takes a sip of his water.
He doesn’t so much as flinch when I stomp on his loafer. I change warfare tactics by dragging my heel up his muscular calf, and I’m rewarded with his sharp inhale of breath. Heat pools in my belly, only to turn molten when Declan clutches onto my thigh.
Stop, his grip says.
Not until you drop the topic, my demure smile replies.
He gives my thigh one last squeeze before abandoning it altogether. The memory of his palm remains pressed into my skin, and I’m hit with a slight chill in his absence.
