Declan + Coraline

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Declan + Coraline Page 2

by J. J. McAvoy


  Raising an eyebrow at her, I unlocked my hands from hers.

  “Women like you disgust me,” I said to her, and her mouth dropped in shock as I left her standing in the middle of the dance to pose for whoever else she wanted to.

  “Ass!” she yelled at me, and I waved once, not caring at all.

  Our men stopped anyone else from following after us.

  Liam was already ordering a round of drinks as the girls around him grabbed on to his shirt, and kissed his neck. Grabbing the bottle of Cristal, I poured myself a glass.

  “You’re really hot.” The woman in Liam’s lap giggled. He nodded, clearly enjoying himself. But he knew…we both knew, that the women around us all wanted something. It was the way the world worked. They were willing to do anything for fame or money. At first it was fun. At first I was just like Liam, making out or fucking every woman who threw herself at me, but honestly I was tired of it…of them. The way they would pour their drinks on us just so they could get our attention, or pretend to trip so that we could catch them. It was all fake. I wanted something different, but did different really exist?

  I don’t want to think about this.

  “Liam,” I called his attention away from the woman in his lap.

  He glanced up once and sighed. “Couldn’t let me have five minutes?”

  “Didn’t know you were a five minute man.” I grinned.

  “Fuck you,” he snapped.

  “Your father would like you to handle this as soon as possible.” Eric replied as he handed a slip to Liam. He looked it over quickly before his eyes met mine.

  “Sorry, ladies,” Liam said. “We have work to attend to. Go down and dance. We’ll join you soon, I promise.”

  Liam’s green eyes focused on me and he finished his glass. “You know you could try to have some fun while you’re here. Instead of just brooding in the corner.”

  “Not interested.”

  “What wrong with you lately?”

  I shrugged. I wasn’t sure either. “Liam, aren’t you bored?”

  “Of Chicago? Where do you want to go? New York?”

  “No, of all of this?” I pointed all around us.

  “Are you insane? At twenty-five? This is the prime of my life! God knows what life will be like in…”

  “In two years, after you get married? Yeah, I wonder what having an Italian wife will be like,” I finished for him.

  “Just because you are in a piss-poor mood doesn’t mean you’re going to shit on my night, you ass. Besides, you know rules, you still have to find a wife before your thirtieth birthday—”

  “That’s still three years away, and she doesn’t have to be an Italian.”

  “You know what? I will handle this by myself. Before you end up as a casualty,” he snapped as he stood up.

  I fought the urge to laugh. “Fine, don’t call on me to save your ass then!” I relaxed into the seat and grabbed a bottle.

  Ignoring me, he and a few of our men went down the stairs towards the back of the club. We’d come here tonight for two reasons. First, because Liam wanted to party, and second, because the owner of this club, an Otis Emerson, hadn’t been paying his taxes to our family. We owned this city. It was an unspoken rule to all those downtown that a donation needed to be made in good faith before they could open any business.

  Not only had this fool not done so, it was rumored that he’d spit on our family name in public. He was either an idiot or had a death wish. Either way, Liam would handle it. I planned to give him a few minutes before I went down to back him up.

  “Eric, what are people saying about this place?” I asked as I looked around the club. The place was packed, and from the look of the line outside, the party was only just getting started.

  “So far the reviews have been good, but you know how everyone gets excited about new places. Give it a month or two.”

  I nodded and he took a step back behind me. I waited a good ten minutes before I stood up and moved down the stairs to follow after Liam. I was focused on making it through the club without being touched, but I’d only made it five feet through the crowd before a drink was poured down the front of my shirt.

  “Oh my God! I’m so sorry!” a woman said, already dabbing the front of my shirt with her napkin.

  Honestly! Again?

  Taking a deep breath, my nose flared as I smacked her hand away.

  “Do not touch me!” I snapped, glaring up at her. However, the second I got a good look at her, I froze. Her long, dark, hair curled and cascaded right past her smooth, dark shoulders. The red dress she wore hugged her curves perfectly, and stopped mid-thigh, showing off her long, smooth legs.

  Diner girl! Holy shit. I wanted to smile at her. But was she really just like the rest of them?

  Eric went to grab her, but I held up my hand to stop him.

  “I’m so sorry!” she repeated, as she looked up at me, her brown eyes wide. She wasn’t scared, she was nervous and embarrassed. “I’ll pay for the dry cleaning. No, I’ll buy you a new one. I’m so sorry…”

  “Cranberry juice?” I licked my rest of juice off my hand.

  She frowned, as she dropped her head and brushed her hair behind ears. “I don’t drink. I’m sorry again, Mr….?”

  “You don’t know who I am?” She had to be lying. “Is this part of your act?”

  “My act?”

  I nodded. “Pouring your drink on me to get my attention?”

  She took a deep breath and gripped her purse as if she was holding herself back from hitting me. Now that would’ve been amusing.

  “I’m sorry about your shirt. Please replace it on me.” She signed a blank check and handed it to me.

  She couldn’t be serious.

  However, she walked around me and disappeared into the crowd.

  What the hell just happened?

  “What happened to you?” Liam came up and I noticed that he was wearing a different shirt. He looked me up and down.

  I looked back at the check.

  Miss Coraline Elizabeth Wilson.

  Wilson International Bank.

  317 Raven Hill Heights.

  Run Declan, she’s getting away…again!!!

  “Declan!” he yelled as I ran after her.

  She was it. She was what I’d been looking for. I couldn’t let her get away.

  CORALINE

  I shivered at the feeling of the night air on my skin. I hated leaving Imani, but she’d said that she was staying over at Otis’ anyway, which made me wonder what exactly she had expected me to do.

  “Hey! Wait!”

  Turning, I came face to face with the same green eyed, brown haired man as before. The stain on his black shirt was still slightly noticeable. Even in my heels he still had at least a good two or three inches on me. The corners of his pink lips perked up into a small smirk as he looked me over just like he did in the club.

  “Are you naïve or stupid, Ms. Wilson?”

  “What’s your problem?” I turned to him. “I said I was sorry about your damn shirt and I promised to pay for another one. What more do you want?”

  He held up the check I had given him.

  “Right now, I know your full name, your account number, and your address. For all you know, you could have just earned yourself a new stalker, Coraline.”

  I hadn’t even thought about that until he’d said it.

  “Well then, I’m at a disadvantage considering that you still haven’t told me your name.” I tried to stand up straighter.

  “It’s Declan,” he grinned as he took a step forward. “Declan Callahan. How can you live in this city and not know that?”

  “There are over two million people who live in Chicago, Declan. Do we all need to know who you are? Are you that vain or are you just a narcissist?”

  He snickered, as his eyebrow rose. “Is there really a difference between being vain or narcissistic?”

  “Is there really a difference between being naïve or stupid?” I countered.


  “Touché,” he said. “I suppose I owe you an apology then.”

  “Giving you that check was dumb idea,” I muttered as I turned away from him. “So why don’t we just forget this ever happened.”

  “Fine. But only if you go out with me for coffee.”

  “Now?”

  He nodded. “I’ll even take it as payment for the shirt.”

  He handed me back the blank check, and when I reached for it, he pulled it back. “Are you accepting my offer?”

  “Fine. One cup of coffee.”

  “Good. There is a diner just down the street from here,” he replied as he took my hand and led me away from the club.

  The further we got from everyone, the more nervous I became. I gripped my purse tighter.

  “Scared?” he asked when we stopped at the traffic lights.

  “Not even a little bit,” I lied. Taking a few calculated risks was all part of living, right?

  “You’re cute when you try to lie.”

  “Great. Cute was just the look I was going for,” I muttered.

  “You again” an older woman said as she looked at me from behind the counter when we entered the diner.

  “What?”

  “Seems like luck is on my side tonight, Beatrice.” He winked at her as he led me to a booth. “Two coffees, and please make them as large as possible.”

  “What did she mean by ‘you again?’ ”

  “You don’t remember?” He leaned back. “Doesn’t this place look familiar to you?”

  I glanced around the diner, but nothing came to mind.

  “This morning you came in here soaking wet and fighting with an umbrella while you laughed at yourself.”

  I paused as I looked out at the dark street, and then back at the entrance.

  “You also wounded my pride when I went up to you, and you ran out without even looking back.”

  “No way. I would have remembered you.”

  “Apparently you left a much more lasting impression than I did. This time I hope to rectify my past mistake, Ms. Wilson,” he whispered, and I shifted under his gaze. My skin suddenly felt hot, and I was at a loss for words.

  “Two large coffees,” Beatrice interrupted us.

  “Why large?” I tried to shift the conversation.

  “You said only one coffee. I have to make it last.”

  “Why?”

  “Why what?

  “Why did you follow me outside? Why’d you ask me out for coffee?” Why had I left a lasting impression? But I didn’t ask the last one.

  “Because I thought you were beautiful from the moment I set my eyes on you, and I knew that I just had to get to know you.”

  Whoa. “Are you always this blunt?” I whispered.

  “Yes.” He took a sip of his coffee, and his green eyes never left mine. “Especially when it comes to things I want.”

  “And you seem like a man who always gets what he wants.” I frowned.

  “You don’t seem pleased by that.”

  I shrugged as I grabbed my coffee as well. “I don’t know much about your family, but I do remember that the Callahan boys are known for being major players.”

  “And you don’t like being played with?”

  “Who does?”

  “People who play back,” he countered as he sat up. “Yes. My brothers and I enjoy women. But if I only wanted to sleep with you, we would be at hotel right now, Ms. Wilson.”

  “You sound really confident about that. I’ve met men like you before, Mr. Callahan.”

  “People should be confident about facts, and I don’t believe you’ve never met a man like me. However, like I said, I brought you here because I wanted to actually get to know the woman who ran away from me not once, but twice…but if you prefer a hotel—”

  “There’s nothing to know,” I cut him off. “I’m quite boring.”

  “I don’t believe that for a second.”

  “I read, shop, work, and watch movies…” I laughed as I shook my head at myself. “It’s actually pretty sad. My cousin was the only reason why I came out tonight.”

  “I’m glad she did.”

  My leg brushed against his and we both froze. My heartbeat quickened.

  “That was an accident!” I blurted out.

  He smirked. “I’ll pretend you did it on purpose. I’m not used to being a gentleman. Touch me again if it suits you.”

  Why did it feel so good to touch him? Even something as seemingly insignificant as a light brush against his leg had me wondering what his skin felt like.

  “I’ll keep my hands where they are.” Before they got me in trouble.

  “Pity.” He frowned. “I really wanted to get out of this shirt.”

  My eyes drifted to it and I remembered how I’d gotten in this position to begin with.

  “You said in there that I spilled my drink on you to get your attention. Exactly how many times has that happened?”

  “Are we talking my whole life or just this month?”

  “Really?”

  He nodded. “I have a mass grave of all the shirts that have fallen victim to the glasses of women...and a few men too.”

  “How many of them have you followed outside?”

  “Of the men…none, and of the women, also none. They would’ve had to leave for me to do that. And even then they would’ve had to offer to have my shirt dry-cleaned or give me a blank check…maybe both.”

  “All part of my master plan, Mr. Callahan,” I said proudly before I sipped my coffee.

  “You’re sending me mixed signals, Ms. Wilson. Did you plan on getting my phone number next or were you going to discretely leave yours on the table?”

  “Would you even call?”

  He paused as he stared at me intensely. “Believe me, I would. But would you?”

  I shrugged. “I’d think about it.”

  “Do much better than think. I’m not known for my patience.”

  “That sounds like a personal problem.” I wasn’t sure where this bold Coraline was coming from. It was like he was pulling this out of me, or I was feeding off of the energy he was emanating. For the first time in my life, I felt sexy…desired.

  His eyes traveled down the length of my neck, to the curve of my breasts before drifting back up to my lip.

  “You’re tempting me,” he stated.

  “I’m sure it’s only because you’re not getting what you want.” I smiled as I slid out of the booth. Before he could stand, I leaned down to him and placed my hands on his broad shoulders. “You want to fuck me, but I’m not going to allow myself to be just another woman you play with and throw to the side. Goodnight, Mr. Callahan.”

  I speed-walked away from him as fast I could and I stepped out of the diner and into the night. The winds blew harshly against my skin, and I only managed to make it a few more steps before his hand was on my waist. He spun me back to face him, and without wasting a moment, he kissed me hard while his other hand reached up to cup my face. I had been a kissed a few times in my life, but never like this.

  I melted into him, and I moaned as my lips parted and my mouth opened for him. He greedily accepted my invitation and his tongue explored and tasted every corner of my mouth.

  “Wow,” I whispered as he broke the kiss and our lips parted.

  “Your phone, where is it?” he questioned as his thumb pressed against my lips.

  I reached into my purse without looking away from him. As I handed it to him, he took it and stepped back without releasing my waist. Then with one hand, he dialed his number, calling himself before he hung up and gave it back to me.

  “Now you can go.” He released me completely and I found that I was already missing his touch.

  He flagged down a taxi, and as he opened the door for me he said, “I’ll be waiting on your call. Good night, Ms. Wilson.”

  I nodded, awe-struck and no longer able to think.

  “Where to?”

  “H…huh?”

  “Where to, lady?”
<
br />   “Raven Hill,” I whispered as I turned back to stare at Declan who was still standing on the corner, watching me as I watched him. My hands went to my lips.

  “Wow.”

  What just happened?

  TWO

  “You may not believe in magic, but something very strange is happening at this very moment.”

  ―Leonora Carrington.

  CORALINE

  “Did you get home okay?” I reread the text message he’d sent over twenty minutes ago.

  I couldn’t bring myself to reply. My head was still spinning. It was three a.m. and I couldn’t stop thinking about how hard his body felt as it was pressed against mine and how nice the kiss had been. No. Nice wasn’t the word—sinful, sexy, and delicious—that’s what came to mind.

  Get yourself together, Coraline!

  I wasn’t that person…the bold, sexy Coraline he’d met tonight wasn’t me, and I had no idea where she’d come from or how she came into being.

  I should text him back, right?

  “I got home fine. Thanks. Hope you did as well. You were nice tonight.” Send.

  Wait! No! “You were nice tonight?” What the hell did that mean? I threw the phone aside and buried my face in the pillow.

  BUZZ

  The second I heard it, I jumped towards the phone.

  “Nice wasn’t what I was going for, but at least I finally made an impression.”

  “What where you going for?”

  “Passionate?”

  I smiled. “Mission accomplished.”

  “I bet you say that to all the guys. So, you were the Valedictorian at Stanford?”

  “How did you know that?” I whispered to myself. Before I could text him back, he sent an explanation in two consecutive messages. It was as though he knew I would be taken aback by his question.

  “It was the first thing I that came up when I Googled you.”

  Followed by…

  “I Googled you because I couldn’t get you out of my mind.”

  Reaching for my laptop on the other side of the bed, I Googled him too, and frowned at the very thing I saw.

 

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