“You know I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I couldn’t resist,” Charly says, also watching Van as she retrieves her phone again and responds to a text. “This is fun. Thanks.”
“Thanks for inviting me to play with the shoes,” I reply. “I love shoes.”
“Honey, if you didn’t love shoes, there would be something fundamentally wrong with you.”
“Eli!” Kate exclaims and then shimmies in her seat as Eli walks across the room to her. “You came!”
“Your offer was compelling,” Eli replies and sits next to her, then scoops her into his lap and kisses her hard.
“What did you offer him?” Gabby asks.
“I just offered to blow him while he drove home.”
“Good one,” I murmur, longing to suck Declan’s cock. I’m gonna do that the next time I see him, and there’s nothing he can do about it. He’s not gonna distract me with his lips and hands and cock.
Nope.
“Will you drive us home?” Van asks Eli. “I don’t want to call a cab.”
“No problem.”
“Hey! Ben’s here!” Charly says.
I watch as the hottest-man-in-the-known-universe, besides Declan of course, walks over and stands right in front of Van.
“Who’s Ben?” I whisper to Charly.
“Long time friend of the family,” she whispers back. “And he might be in love with Van.”
“Does she love him back?” I reply and watch as Ben pulls Van to her feet, wraps his muscly arms around her and hugs her close.
“Do I have to stay with Charly tonight?” Gabby asks Van with a frown. “Are you guys gonna do some weird shit?”
Ben just chuckles.
“After everything she’s been through, Van needs Ben right now,” Charly says softly.
“What has she been through?”
“That’s a sad story for another night,” Charly says and pats my knee. “Let’s not ruin this buzz. Come on, Gabby, you can stay with me.”
Without a word, Ben leads Van to the stairs. She waves, then disappears behind him.
“I hope she knows what she’s doing,” Kate says with a frown.
“They’re adults,” Eli replies with a frown of his own. “They’ll be fine.”
We say goodbyes, and Eli ends up promising to drive Gabby and Charly to Charly’s house. When they’re gone, I join Adam at the bar.
“Declan’s family?” he asks.
“Yep.”
“Do I need to call him to come and get you, or are you actually going to sleep in your own bed tonight?” The words are meant to be teasing, but I sense a seriousness to them that I don’t want to examine right now. I’m enjoying this buzz, from the alcohol and the good time with new friends.
“Awwww, do you miss me, Adam?” I ruffle his hair and then wrap my arms around his waist and hug him close. “Don’t worry, I’ll be home to tuck you in tonight.”
“I think I’ll be the one tucking you in,” he replies with a laugh and kisses my head. “Did you have fun?”
“Mmm hmm.”
“I’m glad you’re making new friends.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“I don’t like seeing you lonely, Cal.”
“Been lonely most of my life.”
“I know.” I feel him sigh, his hand is rubbing up and down my back. I’m still buzzing good and man, I could fall asleep right here.
“But know what?”
“What?” he asks softly.
“You can be in the middle of a crowded room and still be lonely.”
“I know that too,” he replies, then tips my face up so he can look in my eyes. “Damn, you’re toasted.”
“Feels kinda good.”
“I just want you to be happy, Cal.”
“Happier than I’ve been in a long time,” I reply, surprised that it’s true.
“Good. Let’s go tuck you in.”
“Have to close the bar.”
“Jessica can handle it.”
Chapter Ten
~Callie~
Oh, dear Jesus, I’m dying. My head is pounding. I’m sweating. My mouth is dry and sticky.
And I’m wrapped like a mummy under something heavy.
I’ve already died and someone is trying to bury me. I swear, God, if you don’t let me get buried, I’ll never drink like that again. Ever. Okay, maybe not ever, but not for a very, very long time.
I’m gonna throw up.
I hate throwing up.
I moan and try to move, but I can’t. Not only am I wrapped in the sheet and blanket as tight as can be, but something—or someone—is wrapped around me.
“Damn it, I know you tucked me in, but don’t you have a bed of your own to go to?” My voice sounds raw, like the evil stepmother in Snow White.
“I know I didn’t tuck you in last night,” Declan says in my ear, making me grin. His voice sounds… musical, with its soft tone and slight accent. God, that accent makes me crazy.
“Don’t worry,” I whisper, still not opening my eyes. “Adam took me to bed last night.”
“This conversation isn’t improving,” he says dryly. “Maybe you should stop while you’re ahead.”
“Mm,” is my only response as I snuggle closer to him and sigh in contentment. I didn’t like falling asleep without him last night, wasted or not. I’ve gotten used to sharing a bed with him in the past few weeks, which surprises me. I’ve never shared a bed with anyone long-term, even Keith when I was in Denver. He didn’t like to sleep over, and I didn’t think I did either, but sleeping with Declan feels right.
“What do you want to do today?” he whispers into my ear. His fingers are combing through my hair gently, rhythmically. He’s warm and safe wrapped around me, and I can feel the slight scrape from the scruff on his chin against my neck.
As soon as I’m done dying, I’m going to attack him.
“Stay here. Sleep.”
He chuckles and bites my earlobe, but all that does is send sparks of electricity down my back. How in the ever loving fuck am I severely hung over and turned on at the same time? I didn’t think that was possible.
Huh. Weird.
“You can’t sleep all day.”
“I can until I have to go to work. Just watch me.”
“I want to spend the day with you,” he says and kisses my cheek, then nudges me onto my back. “Open your beautiful eyes, darlin’.”
“Don’t have to.”
“Are you always so chipper when you’re hung over?”
I crack an eye open and glare at him. “Who says I’m hung over?”
“I do!” Adam yells from the doorway.
“God, he’s annoying,” I moan and bury my face in my hands. “Just let me die in peace.”
“I’m making you breakfast,” I hear Adam say and then his footsteps as he walks down the hall.
“See? We’ll feed you and then I’ll take you somewhere fun.”
“This is fun,” I reply and smile sweetly.
“We’ll do this later,” he replies, brushing my hair off my cheek. “You’re even gorgeous hung over.”
And that’s when it hits me; I must look insane. I squirm out from under the covers and rush into the bathroom, then cringe. “Oh, God.”
“What’s wrong?” Declan asks from the doorway, leaning against the jamb.
“Last night's smokey eye has turned into this morning’s five-dollar-hooker eye.”
He barks out a laugh and then shakes his head. “Fifty dollar hooker. At least.”
I spread toothpaste on my brush and glare at him in the mirror as I scrub my disgusting mouth. “Bread haf be didguding.”
“Your breath wasn’t that bad,” he replies, his hazel eyes shining as he watches me brush my teeth and then take a makeup cleanser to my face. “You’re actually pretty cute when you’re all messed up.”
“You’re not supposed to be here.” I frown and stare at him as I wipe my face clean. “What are you doing here?”
&
nbsp; He shrugs, but then he shakes his head, as if he’s saying fuck it to himself, and he meets my eyes as he says, “I missed you this morning.”
Oh. How am I supposed to resist that?
I toss the dirty cleaning cloth on the trash and walk to the impossibly tall, ridiculously handsome man and stand on my tip-toes to gently press my lips to his. I’m so much shorter than him when I’m not in my heels.
“What do you want to do today?” he asks me again, then brushes his knuckles down my cheek.
“I want to be outside,” I reply with a smile. “But no strenuous activity. My stomach can’t handle it.”
“I know a place,” he replies and kisses my nose. “You’re short without your shoes.”
“I was just thinking that.”
“And you’re gorgeous without your war paint.”
“I was not thinking that.”
“You’re just beautiful, Calliope. I’ll take you any way I can get you.” With that, he winks and backs away from me. “Adam made breakfast.”
“I can smell that bacon.”
“Well, hurry up, or there won’t be any left.”
“You would dare steal bacon from a hung over woman?” I grip my chest as if I’m shocked and devastated, but he just laughs.
“It’s not my fault that you’re in a bad way this morning, sweetheart.”
“It’s your sisters’ fault, so it’s kind of your fault.”
He shakes his head. “I’m not following your logic. Did you have fun?”
“I did.” I nod and reach for a pair of denim capris and a blue T-shirt. “They’re all nice girls. We bonded over shoes.”
“I figured you would,” he says. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For hanging out with my sisters even though I know you were uncomfortable.”
“It was fun,” I repeat and walk away like it’s no big deal. Because it is no big deal. I’m not making it a big deal. So I had wine and shopped for shoes with his sisters. It’s not like we were picking out bridesmaids dresses or anything.
“I’m hungry,” he says rather than pressing the issue.
“Me too. Go ahead, I’m gonna brush my hair and be right there.”
Before I can turn away, he has be pressed back against the vanity, his hands planted on the countertop at my hips, and he’s kissing me like his life depends on it. Only his lips are touching me, but I’m on fire everywhere.
How does he do this to me every single time?
Finally, he pulls back, smiles, and turns to walk away without another word.
I need a minute to catch my breath and gather my wits. Holy shit, that man can kiss.
***
“I love this park.” I smile and lean my head back so I can breathe in the fall air. It’s not cold here, the way it gets farther north in Colorado, but I can feel a difference in the air. And although the city always has tourists, it seems quieter now that school has started back up and families have returned home.
“You’ve been here before?” Declan asks as he takes my hand in his, threading our fingers.
“Of course. Audubon Park is famous. My dad used to bring me here and we’d feed the ducks.”
“Coincidentally, I brought duck food with me,” he replies with a smile and leads me down the path that circles through the park. “Do you know much about the park?”
“I know it’s big and there are lots of oak trees,” I reply with a smile.
“Those are both true. Do you want a history lesson, or is this boring?”
“So not boring,” I reply sincerely. “Teach me, Obi Wan.”
He snorts and then looks up at the oaks and begins his story. “These trees are more than two hundred and fifty years old. The land was originally settled by Native Americans, and then eventually by the first mayor of New Orleans. His name was Etienne de Bore.”
“What was his name?” I ask, deliberately making him repeat it, just because I love the way the French rolls off his tongue.
“Etienne de Bore. Not only was he the first mayor, but he also founded the first granulated sugar plantation in the country.”
“So he was smart.”
“And rich,” Declan says, smiling down at me. “Then, in 1850, the land was donated to the city. However, the Civil War began, and it was used as a Confederate camp and a Union hospital.”
“Wow, both sides of the war on one site.”
He nods, then points out a branch for me to walk around. “The cool thing is, in 1866, it was the site where the Buffalo Soldiers were activated from. So there is a lot of history where we’re walking. After the turn of the century, the city put together a society to oversee it, and it eventually evolved into not only the park, but also a zoo, riding stables, sports fields, and other things too.”
“You really should pursue that tour guide career,” I say, impressed. “How do you know so much?”
“I love history. Especially Louisiana history. The music I love was born here, the people I come from were from here. I like knowing where I come from.”
“What about where you’re going?” I ask as he leads me to a bridge that arches over a lazy river full of ducks and swans. He digs in a bag slung over his shoulder and comes out with a half-eaten loaf of bread.
We’ve sent several pieces over the side of the bridge, and just when I think he’s not going to answer my question, he continues. “I’ve never been so concerned about where I’m going.”
“Really?”
He shakes his head. He continues to toss the bread, and I lean my back on the railing, watching him.
“I imagine that wherever it is I’m going, I’ll get there eventually.”
My eyebrows both climb into my hairline in surprise. “That easy?”
“Sure. Why does it have to be hard?”
I think back over the past ten years. “I guess all my adult life I’ve been worried about where I would end up, in what job, and who with. How I would get there.”
“And you’ve ended up right back where you started,” he says simply. “Not that you shouldn’t work hard, because I do, but where I’m going has never been a question for me.”
“And where are you going, Declan Boudreaux?”
He smiles down at me. “That’s just it, Calliope. I’m not going anywhere. Not long-term, anyway. I’m exactly where I love to be.”
And with that, he takes my hand and leads me across the other side of the bridge and to a deck that looks out over a pond nearby. There are wooden benches tucked perfectly in the trees. It’s a cool place to sit and enjoy nature.
He leads me to a bench and reaches back in his bag, coming out with sandwiches. He hands me one, peels back the plastic on his and takes a giant bite.
We sit in silence for a while, chewing on our lunch, watching the birds and ducks. The last of the summer flowers are struggling to hang on, just a few more days. In the distance, a crew is setting up tables and chairs in a big stone pavilion, draped in pink and green. Someone will be getting married here later today.
And it’s the perfect spot for it.
I sigh as I finish my sandwich and pass the wrapper to Declan. I move to stand, but he puts his hand on my arm.
“I have one more thing to give you,” he says with a smile.
“More food? I’m full.”
“No.” He passes me an envelope, and inside are two tickets to see Seattle play football.
“Declan, you must have bought the wrong tickets. These say they play in Seattle.”
“They’re right,” he assures me and drags his hand down my back.
“I can’t just drop everything and go to Seattle.”
“You’re not. The game is two weeks away, and I know that business has slowed down enough that Adam can handle the bar for two days.”
I shake my head, but inside, I’m jumping up and down like a little girl. He just stares at me, that smirk on his lips, until I finally throw my arms around him and hug him close.
“Thank you. I’ve
always wanted to see Seattle.”
“I can’t wait to show it to you,” he whispers into my ear.
Who is this man? This giving, sweet, affectionate man?
“What are you thinking?” he asks, tilting his head to the side.
“Nothing.”
“Something just passed through that gorgeous head of yours.”
I don’t want to tell him. It makes me sound mushy and corny, but then I decide what the hell. “I was just wondering who you are, and how have you managed to make me feel so comfortable and easy with you? I trust you, Declan, and I don’t trust easily.”
Now he pulls me to my feet and wraps those long, strong arms around me. My arms are tucked against my chest, and I’m wrapped up in him. He sways us gently side to side, his mouth pressed to my head. I feel him inhale deeply, and then, finally, he whispers, “I’m Declan Boudreaux, and you trust me because I trust you, too.”
Then he pulls back, kisses my forehead, and leads me further into the park.
***
“Thanks for swinging into Charly’s with me,” I say as he parks in front of Head Over Heels. “It’s easier to grab my shoes now on the way home than later when I’ll have to cart them to the bar.”
“How many pairs did you buy?” he asks with a laugh and helps me out of the car.
“Four, I think.”
“You think?”
“There was wine,” I remind him and push inside the cool store. It doesn’t smell like shoes. It smells like lavender and sunshine.
“Well, hello there,” Charly says from behind the counter.
“Hi,” I reply. “How are you feeling?”
“There’s no need to yell,” Charly says while holding her head, making me laugh.
“That good, huh?”
“Rough mornin’,” she says with a sigh. “But so worth it. I have your shoes here.” She lifts a big white bag full of shoe boxes off the floor.
“Can I have one more look at them?” I ask, eyeing the bag the way a kid eyes birthday cake.
“You can look at them all you want,” she says and helps me get them out. “Those blue shoes are amazing.”
I nod, looking down at my feet as I slide them into the blue pumps. They feel great, and will go with almost anything. “I love them.”
“What about these?” Declan asks from the middle of the shop. He’s holding up a pair of grey suede pumps.
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