“For the better!” Mam’s voice lifted to meet Saoirse’s, the sharp cadence of an argument far too familiar of late. “It was right decent of Mr. O’Malley ta offer ta take me with him in the move. Without the man, I have no job!” She drew a breath, letting it go slowly before saying, “Don’t you see? This is what I’ve always wanted, for me and for us.”
Saoirse’s spine went rigid. “So, you’ve planned this, then? The whole time we’ve been here in Ireland, thinkin’ this was home, you never wanted ta stay?”
“No,” Mam said, her voice quiet, yet not soft. “I never wanted ta stay.”
The truth of it stunned Declan into place. But not Saoirse, who said, “Fine. Then go. Declan and I can stay here. We’ll be just fine.”
“He’ll not stay,” Mam bit out. “You’re nineteen, so I don’t suppose I can force you ta go if you don’t want to, but Declan will go with me.”
“There it is again!” Saoirse threw her hands in the air as Declan’s heart slammed in his chest, adrenaline pinning him into place and panicking him into silence. “He’s not the wee baby he was last time you chose his home.”
“No,” Mam said. “He’s not. But he’s still my son. I won’t lose him, and I won’t leave him behind.”
Turning toward him, she extended her hand. Declan took it—he’d not leave her, and maybe if Saoirse saw that, she’d return to her senses and come with them, as he desperately wanted her to.
“Saoirse, please,” he said, willing her to at least consider it.
Her eyes filled with angry tears, and she dashed them with the back of one hand. “I s’pose I see the way of it, then,” she said to Mam. “But know this. If you go, you won’t be my family any longer. You’ll be dead ta me. Both of you. You’ll never hear a word from me again…”
And they never did.
Declan woke as he always did, all at once (thank you, Air Force). It took him longer than usual to place his surroundings, though, and wait, why was he moving?
“Hey, sleepyhead.”
Tess’s voice soothed him instantly, bringing him back to reality even though his dream stuck to him like cobwebs and dust.
Declan pushed himself up against the passenger seat of Tess’s SUV and blinked. “How long was I out?”
“About three hours, actually,” she half-whispered. “Jackson outlasted you by more than forty-five minutes. You must’ve been exhausted.”
He covered his frown under the guise of stretching and searching for a water bottle. “S’pose I was a bit tired.”
In truth, he’d been close to wrecked all week. The insulin had helped keep his blood sugar levels both manageable and steady, but Gupta hadn’t been wrong. The fatigue was very fucking real, to the point that he’d only offered to look after Jackson when he’d made plans with Connor on his day off. Although Declan had hated it, he’d wanted another adult around, just in case he got overtired, or—worse—his blood sugar levels did something unexpectedly wonky while Jackson was in his care. He’d had to take care to dodge Tess’s keen eye for symptoms all week, although, he’d gotten lucky that her schedule had been so jammed with work that they hadn’t spent nearly as much time together as usual. Still, between hiding his insulin—along with the sharps container that held the used needles—and being mindful to keep the tiny bruises on his belly caused by the needle sticks out of sight, he’d had his work cut out for him. And the fatigue was only going to get worse once he was on dialysis.
Declan shoved the thought from his head. He needed to focus on Tess and what little time they had together before he had to tell her the truth. “Sorry I wasn’t better company,” he said, but Tess waved him off, her smile so genuinely happy that he ached.
“It’s okay. I mean, I always love getting to talk with you. But you were tired. Anyway, the drive has been pretty, and I’ve been listening to a book in one ear.” She popped a wireless earbud out of her left ear and grinned. “Let me just say bravo to the author who put you on the cover of that book about the CIA operative and the interpreter. Who knew those CIA guys were such dirty talkers?”
“Are you gatherin’ ideas for later, then?” Declan asked, unable to help lifting a brow at her.
Tess laughed, albeit quietly so as not to wake Jackson, who—Declan sent a quick glance to the backseat—was still out cold.
“Absolutely,” she confirmed. “But first, we have to make it through this family dinner tonight.”
“Right.” He straightened against the passenger seat, putting the last remaining threads of unease from both his dream and his current health situation behind him. The only thing that mattered right now was Tess. “So, do you want to give me a primer, then? Tell me exactly who’s who, so I’ll be prepared?”
The sunny smile on her face slipped, but only by a fraction. “I guess I should. Obviously, you’ve had the pleasure of sort of meeting my mother, Bronwyn. She’s pretty much as-advertised, only more judgmental in person.”
“Sounds bang on,” Declan murmured, with no small dose of sarcasm, and Tess’s brows pulled low beneath the rims of her sunglasses. “Sorry,” he added. “Sometimes I forget the slang’s a bit different here.” Christ, that dream must have subconsciously hit a switch in his brain.
“No, you’re not wrong,” Tess replied. “My mother’s a piece of work. My father will be there, too, I’m sure, but unless you’re at the bar, you probably won’t see much of him. He makes an appearance for family gatherings, but it’s all for show. Everyone knows his ‘business travel’”—she hung verbal air quotes around the phrase that gave Declan the idea well enough—“is mostly from one mistress’s house to another. At last count, I think he had three.”
“You’re serious, then?” Declan asked, shocked. What kind of shitehawk did that to his wife?
Tess nodded matter-of-factly, and hell, no wonder she had been jaded on the idea of marriage if that was her barometer. “Yep. And that’s not even the best part. The mistress who lives in Malibu is only five years older than I am, which also happens to be the same age as my oldest sister, Margot.”
“Are you sure this isn’t a reality TV show of some sort, and not your family?” Surely, she was embellishing.
Or not. “Now do you see why I don’t go to these things?” Tess’s mouth quirked into a half-smile. “The only silver lining there is that the whole thing makes Margot practically apoplectic. My other sister, Abigail, too. They’re pretty much younger versions of my mother. Charlie calls them The Coven.”
A laugh flew past Declan’s lips, taking him by surprise. “I knew I liked Charlie. Alright, then. Who else?”
Tess went on to describe her brothers-in-law and her nieces and nephews, each sounding as snobby and spoiled as Declan would expect. “As for the bride, Elizabeth, I haven’t seen her since my wedding to Alec, and even then, she was younger than me by enough that we were never really close. She always seemed kind of normal, to be honest—her father and mine are brothers, but they’re nothing alike. Her family lives here in South Carolina.”
“It’s quite pretty,” Declan said, looking out the window at the lush trees on either side of the two-lane highway and the mountains lining the horizon in the distance.
“Well, the resort has an excellent reputation, so at the very least, we’ll have a nice stay.” After a few beats of silence, Tess added, “We should, ah, probably come up with a story about how we met. Just to make sure we’re consistent.”
“As much as I’d love to scandalize your mam by tellin’ her we met in a prison lineup, I s’pose it’s probably best to stick as close to the truth as possible.” Declan waited out Tess’s laugh—God, he’d never, ever tire of hearing it—before suggesting, “How would it be to say, I know Connor from our time together in the Air Force, came for a visit, and we met through him?”
“That works,” Tess said, her smile fading as she tacked on, “and just in time, too, because according to the GPS, we’ll be there in about ten minutes.”
27
Tess was ninety
percent certain that a fleet of butterflies had invaded her chest. She knew she shouldn’t care what her mother—or anyone, really—thought of her. She was an adult, and an accomplished one at that. But that saying about old habits dying hard wasn’t just a load of crap, and as she and Declan and a semi-sleepy Jackson made their way from the flawlessly landscaped parking area to the even more flawlessly beautiful lobby of the resort, every insecurity Tess had ever felt came roaring to the forefront.
She tugged at the hem of her T-shirt, trying to smooth the cotton as she balanced Jackson on one hip. The lobby looked like a cross between a luxury hotel and a log cabin, which was a combination that shouldn’t have worked, but somehow totally did. The walls were lined in rich, glossy timbers that glowed in the ample afternoon sunlight streaming in through the well-placed windows, beyond which was a panoramic mountain view so spectacular, it left Tess a little breathless. Two cozy stone fireplaces stood opposite each other in the grand space, with oversized chairs and comfy-looking leather couches strategically placed throughout the room, inviting both conversation and relaxation. The front desk lined the back of the lobby, and Tess was grateful that there wasn’t a huge crowd of people milling about. It would be just her luck to have her very first run-in with Bronwyn before she’d had a chance to ditch her travel clothes or change Jackson into something less drool-stained.
“Good afternoon and welcome to Winding Creek Spa and Resort,” said the woman behind the reception desk warmly. “Are you checking in?”
“Yes,” Tess replied. Wordlessly, Declan reached over to take Jackson so she could speak to the woman without distraction, speaking to him softly as he fussed in protest. The woman, bless her, recognized the need for a speedy check-in, and passed over their room keys a minute later.
“There’s a full gym on this floor, along with two pools, one indoor and one out. In case you want to take your little one for a swim,” she added kindly. “I see that you’re here for the Shipley-Jameson wedding. The itinerary of events is right here for you, with the pre-wedding dinner tonight in the Aspen Lodge and the ceremony tomorrow afternoon on the main terrace outside with the reception to follow.” She slid a handful of papers into a burgundy folder and passed it over to Tess. “Is there anything else I can do to make your stay more enjoyable?”
Talk about a loaded question. Tess bit back a sardonic smile. “No, thank you. I think we’re set.”
She turned toward Declan, who had managed to distract Jackson with Henry, but only just. Tess couldn’t really blame him for being crabby. She’d blown a mile-wide hole in his schedule, and he was probably hungry. She opened her mouth to suggest that they all get something to eat, then maybe give the pool a try before having to make an appearance at this dinner tonight…
And walked smack into her sister.
“Oh! I’m so—Margot?” The butterflies in Tess’s chest grew teeth. “Hi,” she said weakly.
“Tess, is that you?” Margot, who looked like she’d just stepped off the set of a very upscale magazine photo shoot, gave Tess an extended up-and-down perusal that made her feel smaller by the second. “Dear God, sweetheart. You look exhausted! How lucky you’re at a spa for the weekend.”
Round one, ding. Tess gritted her teeth. “Yeah, so lucky.” She turned toward Declan to get the introductions over with, but, oh—her face warmed—he was already right there by her side. “Declan, this is my sister, Margot. Margot, meet my husband, Declan. And of course, this is Jackson.”
“Of course,” Margot said, and how she managed to pack that much haughtiness into two tiny syllables, Tess would never know. But it wasn’t her fault that neither of her sisters had bothered trying to make a trip to Remington to meet Jackson after he’d been born.
Margot treated Declan to the same scrutinizing head to toe perusal she’d given Tess, taking in his purposely torn jeans, the full sleeves of ink on display beneath his T-shirt, and his muscle-packed frame. “Bronwyn mentioned that you’d remarried. How…lovely to meet you, Declan.”
She didn’t extend a hand, but Declan remedied the slight by extending his own. “Pleasure,” he said. The move emphasized Margot’s lack of manners, and she scowled slightly, but shook his hand nonetheless.
“I have to say, it was quite a surprise to hear that you’d gotten married again, Tess. And so soon after Alec left you. You always did know how to stir up all the excitement, I suppose.”
Tess clenched her jaw hard enough to make her molars ache. “Actually, I left Alec because he was a complete douche canoe.”
“Tess, really,” Margot tsked. “Do you have to be so crass?”
She forced a smile over her lips. “If the canoe fits…”
Before Margot could parry, Declan intervened. “Margot, I believe you’re right. Tess does know how to stir up excitement.” He looked at Tess, giving up that half-smile that always turned her into complete goo. “Because she’s got a right exciting life. I’m glad to be a part of it.”
Margot’s shock was so great, not even her plastic surgeon could’ve kept it off her face. “How silly of me to have forgotten you’re still in the newlywed phase.” Turning back to Tess, she regrouped. “I’m sure everyone will want to catch up with you. It’s been so long since we saw you last. Won’t you join us for cocktail hour before dinner?”
Had her sister seriously missed the baby on Declan’s hip? “I think we’re going to take Jackson to check out the pool before dinner, actually.”
“Isn’t that something your nanny can take care of?” Margot asked, and once again, Declan took over so Tess didn’t scream.
“We wouldn’t dream of not spendin’ as much time with the lad as we can.”
This time, it was Margot’s turn to tighten her smile. “Of course not. Until dinner, then,” she said, turning on her shiny black Louboutins and tap-tap-tapping away.
As soon as Margot was out of earshot, Tess turned toward Declan and tried her best to smile. “Do you still think this was a good idea?”
“I think we’re here together, and I think you’re perfect,” he said. “Now, let’s go see about that swim, yeah?”
But as they made their way to their room to get changed and settle in, Tess couldn’t help but wonder if coming to this wedding had been a huge mistake.
As it turned out, the sight of a smokin’ hot guy in swim trunks did a lot for a girl’s morale. By the time they’d eaten a decent snack, gone for a swim in the pool, then all had a turn in the ridiculously appointed bathroom in their suite (eight massaging shower jets. Eight! It was practically fucking Christmas) Tess was feeling worlds better. She’d taken full advantage of all the spendy spa products that had been stocked in the hospitality basket on the bathroom counter, and she had to admit, it had been worth the effort to blow out her hair and put on her favorite Kelly green halter dress. Slicking a bit of coppery lip gloss over her mouth—because hey, why not—Tess grabbed her kitten-heeled sandals, sliding them on as she made her way to the main sitting area of their suite. Jackson was in his Pack n’ Play, babbling away as he watched the Bubble Guppies do their thing, and Declan lay on the couch, his eyes closed.
“Hey,” Tess said quietly, not wanting to startle him. “Are you okay?”
His eyes opened in an instant. “Of course. I was just restin’ my eyes.”
Worry pinged at her gut. He’d spent over an hour in the pool with Jackson, then looked after him while she’d taken her sweet time getting ready. God, she shouldn’t have dawdled. “You sure you’re up for this? You look a little tired.”
“I’m fine. Just checked my blood sugar and everything,” he said with a smile. “Everything’s grand.”
“Oh, good.” Her anxiety released a bit. She hadn’t gone over his numbers too closely this week, but that was mostly because he’d gotten the hang of tracking everything with the trial meds so well. He’d told her Gupta had given him another great report this week, plus, he’d taken that killer nap in the car. She really needed to stop worrying so much. “I guess we should g
o get this over with, then, huh?”
“In a second,” Declan said, giving her a long, slow look. “Right now, I just want ta look at you.”
“Oh,” Tess whispered, the shiver that moved over her having nothing to do with the temperature in the room. She should feel self-conscious, with his stare on her so thoroughly. But instead, when he looked at her, she felt fearless. “Well, you look nice, too.”
The gleam in Declan’s eye sparked with heat. “I’m thinkin’ a lot of things about how you look right now, love. ‘Nice’ isn’t even in the top one hundred.” He got up from the couch, placing a kiss right beside her mouth, probably to preserve her lip gloss. “But if I get to listin’ them all, I’ll want to put them into action, and then we won’t make it ta dinner. So, suffice it ta say, you’re beautiful.”
“Well, that makes us a matched set, then.” Tess let herself linger in his embrace for a few more seconds—she wasn’t stupid, after all—before stepping back. They got Jackson into his stroller easily enough, making their way from the room to the elevator, then the elevator to the lobby. By the time they’d reached the hallway leading to the reception room, Tess’s butterflies were back in full force.
“You must really like me to do this,” she murmured, passing Jackson a sippy cup of water and a teething toy in the shape of a panda bear.
“I do really like you,” Declan confirmed, extending his arm. “Shall we?”
Tess scooped in a slow steadying breath. This was okay. Declan was next to her. She could do this.
She was good enough to do this.
The reception room was softly lit and stunning, with one windowed wall showcasing the same view as the lobby. Double doors led out to a canopied deck that had been strung heavily with fairy lights, and the ambient glow turned both the outdoor area and the high-ceilinged reception room cozy. The room was already decently populated—the cocktail hour must have ended, the rehearsal itself over and done, and Tess’s heartbeat sped so fast she was sure the pulse of it was a visible thing behind the thin material of her dress. But then, Declan was there, and Jackson, too, and she was able to breathe, to move further into the room, to find the comfort in her own skin.
Beyond Just Us (Remington Medical Book 4): A Single Parent Marriage of Convenience Romance Page 24