When we make it to the restaurant and eat the subpar meal, which Cynthia still assures me is amazing and that it absolutely doesn’t have a thing to do with the hot waitress she can’t keep her eyes off of, things are still easy with Declan.
He keeps his hand resting on my thigh, our bodies touching in the booth. It’s strange to think this is the first meal we have shared together where we are like this. Last night, we were still ironing things out, but right now, we are trying this out for real.
How can something so different from anything I ever imagined happening feel so natural?
Even Joey and Cynthia, who have only ever seen us at each other’s throats, other than Cynthia catching us making out a couple times, aren’t acting like how we are is odd.
If Joey can easily accept this, then I have hope Zander will be able to, as well.
“What has you thinking so hard?” Declan asks, his whisper tickling my ear as he leans in close.
“Just wondering how strange it is that this feels normal.”
“Should it not feel normal?”
I stare at him pointedly. “Last week, I knocked you out when you attempted to touch me. Now your hand is permanently attached to my thigh.”
“First of all, you got a lucky hit in because I startled you. If that had been an actual fight, no way you would have touched me. And secondly, you love where my hand is.” He squeezes my thigh, and I sort of wish we were somewhere private, naked, with his hand a little higher.
“You might have startled me, but I could totally hit you easily again if I wanted to.”
“I bet you couldn’t,” he dares.
“I know I could, but I won’t be doing that again.”
“Why? Because hitting someone is wrong and you felt bad?” Declan rolls his eyes, so I surprise him with a different answer.
“Because, when I knocked you out, I clearly knocked some sense into you. No way am I risking knocking it loose and having us at each other’s throats again.”
Declan grins then, his two dimples that I rarely see staring down at me.
After knowing him for years, I can’t believe his smile can be spectacular to me. I guess I have never had it directed at me.
“Why are you smiling at me like that?” I ask breathlessly.
“I think that might be the sweetest thing you have ever said to me.”
“That right there is incredibly sad,” I mutter.
Before I can fully look away, he gently grabs my chin and keeps me in place. “I’ll do my best to keep my sense because, right now, I am fully aware of what a lucky bastard I am.” He then kisses me. Nothing deep or consuming, more of a chaste kiss appropriate for the setting, but the fact that it feels so natural, so normal, settles deep within me.
We managed to hit a relationship comfort without ever having a single date, or at least, not a single date without two bickering friends who still can’t agree which way the waitress swings.
“Can I get you guys anything else?” the waitress asks.
“You can settle a debate for us,” Joey announces.
I wonder how he is going to word this without it sounding incredibly creepy, weird, or inappropriate.
“I can try.” She sounds unsure now.
“If you had to say who the hottest person at this table is, who would you go for?” he asks, and then we all watch with bated breath as her eyes slide from me to Cynthia, where she reddens slightly, before taking a step backward.
“I don’t know. You are all very … um … attractive,” she mumbles, her face full-blown red now. Then she quickly escapes before we can ask her any more awkward questions.
“Well, she didn’t even glance our way,” Declan tells Joey. “Cynthia wins.”
Cynthia looks a little smug, but also a little unsure. I think she might have been having a little fun with Joey, but now she has confirmation. The hot waitress she’s developed a little crush on is someone who could potentially like her back.
Ava and I both know she hasn’t been fully happy with Vanessa for a while now. Vanessa is a raging bitch most of the time. I hope it’s just with us and not ever with Cynthia, though I think is might be bleeding that way into their relationship. Therefore, I think she is a little excited to know she was right, yet it is also a little scary.
“No way. She was looking at them because she didn’t want to start a bitch fight over choosing one of their boyfriends.”
I roll my eyes at that excuse, but Cynthia almost spits out her drink.
“You? My boyfriend?”
“What? She doesn’t know that you’re not my type.” Joey smirks.
“I think the whole point is that you are not my type,” she counters.
“Whatever. I still don’t concede that you win.” He turns to look at us. “Guys?”
We both side with Cynthia, and therefore, Joey loses and has to pay for lunch, grumbling the entire time. Then Cynthia gives the waitress the fifty dollars Joey grudgingly passes to her.
It feels like the perfect lunch, as well as a sign today is going to be a great one. I mean, sure, our lunch date turned into a friends’ thing, but we still have tonight.
Then we step back into the office and my great day turns to shit.
Chapter 9
Flowers are everywhere. My desk is covered, the floor around my desk, and the coffee table in the waiting area.
“This guy does not give up,” I murmur, feeling grossed out that he not only invaded my home, but now my work. My lack of interest in him means nothing. My dating someone means nothing.
And, sure, flowers are better than say, a bag of poo, but it is still frustrating.
“Wow, we becoming a florist or something?” Joey mumbles as Cynthia moves past me to look over the flowers carefully.
She works her way around them, scanning them carefully. I wonder how I never knew she cared that much about flowers. Maybe she will want to keep them. Not that any one person could ever possibly need or want this many flowers. Then she points out a card, and I realize what she was searching for.
“Don’t touch it,” Declan orders, his voice terse and short. He’s angry.
Since we locked the office up when we left, I understand his annoyance.
He moves over to my desk where he uncovers a box of tissues and uses one to pluck the small card out.
Joey stares at us for a moment, his face turning from surprise to anger. Then he moves into his office where I can only assume he’s checking the security feeds.
I glance over at the doors and see there is no obvious sign of a break in. Another faked key? What about the security code? How did they know that?
The restaurant across the road is buzzing, so whoever did this couldn’t have looked too suspicious. Otherwise, they would have been noticed.
Joey walks out of his office then leaves out through the front door, storming his way across to the restaurant. We all watch in shock as he grabs one of the waiters and drags him back across the road. Too bad he had a plate of food in his hands that he didn’t have time to safely place down.
“What are you doing?” the man, who I recognize as my friend Eli, demands as he’s pushed in front of Joey where he falls to his knees in front of us.
“Didn’t recognize the main guy, but sure recognized this asshole,” he explains, and all our eyes turn back to Eli.
“What are you talking about?” he demands, standing as he brushes himself off, not that he’s dirty, but he sure looks pissed.
“The flowers,” Joey growls.
Eli’s expression softens as it clicks. “Oh, yeah. What about them?” he asks Joey before he turns toward me and gives me a huge smile. “You got one hell of an admirer.”
My breath catches in my throat.
From our lack of excitement, Eli catches on that something is wrong. “What is it? The delivery guy brought these in half an hour ago. I helped him carry them in.” He stops short when Declan moves his glare from the envelope to Eli.
“It’s nothing, just a guy b
eing a little pushy,” I tell him, feeling bad when his face falls from this news.
Eli is a secret romantic at heart. I helped him surprise his girlfriend over Valentine’s Day with the cheesiest, mushiest crap you can imagine. Half the stuff I suggested to him, I did it as a joke, but he took it seriously.
Thousands of dollars on flowers would be right up his romantic alley.
“I’m sorry. I thought … I didn’t realize …” He trails off.
I pat his arm gently. “It’s okay. You couldn’t have known. In the future, though, don’t do anything in the office when one of us isn’t around,” I tell him softly.
“How did you get in?” Joey questions, his arms still crossed and his gaze stern.
“What do you mean? The guy had a key and a code,” Eli says on a frown. “Did I …? Did I do something illegal?”
“No,” I quickly assure him. “Sorry about Joey dragging you in here.” I glance around at the flowers, already knowing how to make it up to him. “You want to take any of these for your girlfriend?”
“Seriously?” He’s gaping now, but his body barely stays still as excitement hits him.
“Sure, it’ll be a waste to throw them all away.” And that’s what I intend to do. I want them all out of my sight. Not that we have enough trash space for them all, but I will figure it out.
I never really cared that much about flowers, but Bowen is quickly making it so I can’t stand the sight of them.
“What does the card say?” Cynthia asks, and I glance away from Eli, who is glancing over the many bunches and different vases, to look at Declan.
He is back to glaring at the card, and when he looks up, he stares at me with an unreadable look. I take that to mean the card is just as creepy at the last one.
“Hello? You gonna answer?” She waves her hand at Declan, yet he still doesn’t seem to notice.
“Time to get back to work.” Joey gently pushes Cynthia down the corridor.
“Are you seriously pushing me?” Cynthia growls at him.
“I’ll talk to you later!” I call after her, aware I might need some time to process this myself.
“You sure you don’t mind?” Eli looks uncertain as he grabs a vase.
“Absolutely!” I sound cheerier than I feel, but Eli doesn’t seem to notice. “If you want to take more than one bunch, that’s fine. Maybe grab one for your mom?” I offer.
His eyes light up. “Thanks.”
As he goes off in search of another bunch he likes, Joey signals for Declan and me to follow him into his office.
Declan, still holding the card, waits for me to pass him before following me.
His office and Declan’s are identical. Both have their own personal bathrooms, sitting areas, and a huge desk, and each are next to Zander’s. We have a few other rooms, one in which Cynthia resides, but they are smaller and without a private bathroom or lounging area. There is also a large conference room that I think we have only used a handful of times. This place is ripe for growth.
Joey keeps staring out into the hallway, waiting for Eli to leave. Once he does, Joey shuts the door and quickly faces us while crossing his arms over his chest. “What the hell is going on?”
Since there is no way I’m lying to Joey, and seriously, what would be the point, anyway, I tell him about Bowen, about what happened at the wedding, and how, when I arrived home, there were flowers everywhere.
Joey appears annoyed, but assured when Declan says he is working on it.
“If you need help, I’m here. Zander is going to be pissed,” Joey says unnecessarily. Zander is so overprotective that this really goes without saying.
“Zander doesn’t need to know about anything while he’s away, enjoying his honeymoon,” I remind him, and he nods in agreement.
“Just be aware,” Joey warns, “that as soon as he gets home, you’re going to have him to contend with. He’ll probably want to put a full-time bodyguard on you.”
“A minion to hold my things, drive me around, and paint my nails? That doesn’t sound too bad,” I tease.
“God help the poor sucker,” Joey mutters before his gaze lands back on Declan. “What did the note say?”
He ditches the tissue since there clearly won’t be prints found on it again and reads the chilling words out loud. “My heart sinks as I watch the sun slip into the sea. Another day lost in the waves without my love here with me. I’ll be seeing you soon.”
Shivers rack my body as his words take on a sinister meaning. Then something else clicks for me. I have heard those words before. In fact, I got an email with those exact words a few weeks ago. How is that possible, though, if Bowen only became obsessed with me a few days ago?
Is it a weird coincidence?
“What is it?” Declan asks, his eyes watching me intently.
“Nothing.” I shake my head, yet my heart is pounding in my chest. “I just … I think I’ve seen that poem before. When I was going through my emails, I saw it. It was a while ago. I doubt I still have it on my computer.”
The extra weird thing is, when I read it a few weeks ago, it still seemed familiar then. However, I couldn’t work out why.
“Who sent it?” Declan asks, probably noting the fact that a while ago doesn’t fit in with the timeline we allowed for Bowen. Is it possible he’s been stalking me longer than a few days?
“I don’t recall. It wasn’t sent to me personally, just the company email. I check them to weed out new clients and the spam ones. I remember looking it up because it was weird, but it didn’t seem sinister then. I think I just deleted it.”
“I’ll get Jerry on it,” Declan declares.
Meanwhile, Joey, who immediately began typing at his computer, lets out a shout of victory. “The first part is a poem by Christy Ann Martine. The last part is that douche signing his fate that he’s going down.”
I shake my head, wishing it could be that easy. “Even if we could prove it is Bowen sending these flowers, it’s not like the police are going to care. I bet they’ll just roll their eyes if I tell them a man keeps sending me expensive flowers.”
“He broke into your house!” Joey reminds me.
“No, someone else did. It might have been on his orders, but that’ll be even harder to prove,” I snap, my frustration getting to me.
“Have you had any other form of contact with him since the wedding? Has he called? Emailed you? Sent you a letter?” Joey has his game face on. This is how he gets when he is on a case.
“I haven’t checked my mailbox, but no calls. And as far as I’m aware, no emails.”
“What is his end game here? He knows you’re not interested, and as far as he’s aware, we’re together. So, what’s the point?” Declan asks. With the way he’s staring at Joey’s wall, I assume he was asking more to himself.
“I guess he’s not used to hearing no,” I suggest. Could this ever really work? Being bombarded and harassed by unwanted attention in the form of flowers and creepy words is hardly romantic, is it? Do some women cave to this?
“Then we get his number, and you tell him again that you’re not interested.”
“I’ll do that,” I agree, not eager to speak to the man, yet hopeful that it will be enough to stop him. “What happened to you distracting him?”
“I left Jerry on it. I’ll call straight after this to find out what is happening with that,” he promises.
“You need my help, you got it,” Joey offers again, his gaze stern as he looks directly at Declan.
Declan gives Joey the “man nod,” which can mean a number of different things. In this case, I think it might be a “thanks” or a “will do.” Then he places his hands on my lower back to lead me out.
His touch feels nice until the sight of the flowers bombards me again.
“Yo, Joey! You want any of these flowers for your girlfriend?” I offer, not having heard whether yesterday included a breakup or not.
“She’s not my girlfriend, and we’re not together,” he calls back
out, and I smile, glad he and Kay ended things. Knowing Joey, though, it won’t be long before a new woman takes her place.
“If you don’t want to keep these flowers, I can get rid of them for you,” Declan offers.
“You mean, trash them?”
He shakes his head. “Not exactly.”
“What will you do with them?”
“Well, yesterday, I took the ones at your house to the children’s hospital, but I had a different idea for these ones.”
I’m touched by his thoughtfulness, and partly angry at myself for not thinking something like that myself. It would be a waste to throw them all in the trash when they can still bring joy to someone else.
“What idea is that?”
“I volunteer at a nursing home, the same one my grandma lived in. I think they might like these around the place.” He looks bashful as he gazes down at his feet, unable to meet my eyes.
“You volunteer at a nursing home?” I gape at him, realizing this is another fact I never knew.
“Yeah, they play bingo on Tuesday nights and quiz night on Thursdays. I help out with them, and occasionally help the nurses and caregivers put on a movie night or chaperone their dances,” he mumbles like he is embarrassed. I have no idea why, because it just adds to the many reasons I’m discovering that Declan is an amazing person. In fact, my eyes might pop out of their sockets because I’m so surprised by this. Not that I wouldn’t think Declan would be nice enough to give up his time like that, but how the hell did I never know this about him? And at least twice a week he does this!
“Wow, that’s incredible. I’ve known you forever, yet I know nothing about you.”
He smiles warmly down at me, resting his hands over my hips gently, and I resist taking a step so our bodies can be close enough to touch.
“I can drop them off after work tonight. You take your car back to mine, and then I’ll swing by and pick you up on the way to the store to grab some groceries. You’ll have to educate me as to what desserts you enjoy. Then I’ll cook you dinner. Tomorrow, if you want, you can come with me to bingo.”
“Deal,” I quickly agree, interested to see Declan in action. Maybe this is why he sometimes acts so old, since he’s keeping elderly company on the regular.
I Knocked Him Out (Love at First Crime Book 2) Page 13