Font Size:  

“It’s hard. I know.” In his tone, she heard it—what none of her non-divorced friends or family understood—the pain of not being with one’s child. His face might be sporting his usualI hate the worldfrown, but his eyes said,I’ve been there, and I get it. And then maybe, inexplicably,I’m proud of you.

She lifted her hand to cover his, to give him some sense of comfort too, and the second her fingers grazed his rough skin, a current moved between them. Pulsing. She sucked in a breath, and his gaze heated, his brown irises going molten. But an instant later, Declan swallowed hard and yanked his hand away.

He turned his attention quickly to Chris. “Why don’t you two get into dry clothes, and I’ll whip up some hot chocolate?”

Natalie nodded, jarred at how fast he had once again pulled away. But they were with his son, so it was probably for the best. Silently, she followed Chris up the back staircase. Once she’d changed into warm, dry clothes, she made her way back to the kitchen.

Declan stood in front of three steaming mugs of hot chocolate. In the middle of a clean kitchen. Before they had headed outside, it looked like a tornado had gone through the room, and she’d assumed she’d have to deal with it now. But he had done the dishes and wiped down all the counters.

It was shocking; she assumed he was the type that would complain about a mess, but apparently, he was the kind of man who just took care of it. Boy, was that hot.

He handed her one of the mugs, and their fingers brushed when she took it from him, a warmth spreading up her arm and through her body at his touch.

“Thank you.” Her voice came out embarrassingly breathy.

His gaze strayed to her lips for one beat before he glanced away.

She swallowed hard. There was a kind, gentle depth—one she hadn’t expected—to this grumpy man.

8

Declan gently pulledthe door to Chris’s room closed. The boy was worn out and went down easily. He should be asleep within minutes if he wasn’t already.

In Chris’s bathroom, he cleaned up the toothpaste that had dripped onto the counter and hung his son’s towel on the hook. Then he shut off the light in the fourth bedroom that no one was using that week. Why the hell was it even on? Probably Chris—the kid left lights on in every room he went into. He moved past Natalie’s room, catching a hint of her lavender scent floating in that air even though she was downstairs. He flicked her light off to and then paused again at Chris’s door to listen. But all was quiet.

The back staircase into the mudroom was much tighter than the large set of stairs into the great room. When he’d redone the place, the architect had encouraged him to get rid of the outdated second stairwell, but there was something about the narrow steps that he loved.

He straightened up the mudroom as well, putting Natalie’s and Chris’s boots in the cubbies before walking into the kitchen and stopping in his tracks.

What was she doing?

Natalie sat on the counter, a pint of ice cream and a spoon in hand, and her phone held out in front of her.

“I don’t know how I would function if I worried as much as you do.” Natalie rolled her eyes. Damp hair, a tank top, plaid pajama pants, and bare feet with the cutest red polished toes. He sighed, trying to focus on the toes and her carefree air rather than the deep scoop of the tank. This woman’s natural beauty was in complete opposition to what he was used to.

Watching Natalie smile and talk on the phone with her daughter earlier, sounding genuinely happy to hear about Addy’s day and the fun she was having, was another absolute difference. Lauren had spent the day texting Declan, demanding details of every activity, and then she complained to Chris during her phone call with him before dinner, whining about how lonely she was without him so incessantly that his son’s cheery attitude had dulled afterward.

Natalie was different.

“Seriously, I doubt he’ll want to talk to either of you.” She popped the spoon into her mouth and sucked off the ice cream.

Declan cleared his throat.

Her head snapped up. She hadn’t realized he was standing there watching her, he guessed. Which was a good thing because he’d spent too much time today observing her. Laughing in the snow with Chris. The sway of her hips as she danced around the kitchen. How the fork slid between her lips at dinner. And the way her breasts tried to escape that damn tank top with every breath.

“Am I thehein question?” Declan asked.

Natalie rolled her eyes. “I love you both, but I’m hanging up.” She hit a button and dropped her phone onto the counter before removing an ear bud. “Sorry, my brother and his wife are trying to make this whole thing into a thriller where you’re secretly a serial killer. And no amount of reassurance that you’re just an average sports ball player will do.”

“You mean baseball.” Declan chuckled. He’d started for the all-star team for the last four years, not to mention he was one of the best RBI hitters currently playing. His team had made it to the world series last year, and yet this woman didn’t give a flying fuck about it.

She flipped a hand in the air and shrugged.

“It’s easier if I toss sports all under the umbrella of sports ball.” Natalie grabbed another spoonful of ice cream. “I’d offer you some, but I know how you have that wholemy body is a templething going on.”

She was right. Normally, he’d pass on the ice cream, but he stole the spoon from her hand and popped it into this mouth. Her eyes widened, and he smirked.

“Sometimes I indulge.” He leaned onto the counter beside her, remembering her comment from earlier. “So you never liked sports, or did your ex-husband turn you off to them?”

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
Articles you may like