Story of Us

by Jody Holford

  Ha. If only my liking a good glass of red was the worst thing he could tell them. “I’m kind of tired from the drive. I don’t want to pass out before I taste your soup.”

  His eyes held hers a moment. “Ginger ale it is. You don’t mind if I have a glass, do you?”

  She moved to the island and slipped onto a stool. “Of course not.” He passed her a can of soda, and she watched as he twisted the can of packed crescent rolls, jumping even though she was expecting the pop.

  “Can I do anything?” It was no hardship to watch him move around his kitchen with ease. She could sit here for a long time, forgetting that the real world was as rough as those waves pounding the rocks outside.

  “Nah. I’m a pro at these.”

  Sophia laughed then took a sip of her soda. The bubbles settled her stomach some. “Again, I figured you for a raw steak kind of guy.”

  Declan rolled the little pastries into crescents with ease. One side of his lips tipped up. “You seem to have a lot of preconceived notions about me.”

  The ink winding around his right wrist, trailing up his arm, was mesmerizing. Wow. You need some sleep. She couldn’t be too hard on herself, though. When she was growing up, there hadn’t been a girl around who didn’t want to be on Declan’s arm. Since those long-ago days, he’d only gotten bigger and sexier. Throw in this little dash of domesticity and Sophia would be sunk if she wasn’t absolutely solid in her decision to go it alone. Never again would she open herself up to having her heart beaten up on. Nor would she let anyone take control of who she was or what she wanted.

  She’d let her ex make far too many decisions on her behalf, both at work and in their personal life. At the time, it had seemed like the easiest solution, like she was good at compromising. Instead, she’d lost a piece of herself. And a large chunk of her savings. Not to mention her self-esteem and a whole host of other things. You can’t change the past. You’re moving forward. She’d left home to be independent and come home for the same reason.

  The worst kind of bookends for all the mistakes she’d made.

  “Am I wrong?” She gestured to him. “Are you telling me with all that ink, a Harley, and a big-ass SUV, not to mention your rep as a ladies’ man, you really think you give off the homey, biscuit-making, soft vibe you’re showing me?”

  His chuckle was deep and rumbly and made goose bumps dot her skin. She rubbed her hand against them. Declan put the rolls in the oven, set the timer, and came around the counter. He stopped when he was just in front of her, his abdomen all but touching her knees.

  “People grow up, Sophia. You sure as hell did,” he said.

  When his eyes raked over her body again, she felt the warmth zing all the way through her and commended herself on not leaning forward and taking comfort in his solid presence. Adrenaline and determination were the only things keeping her upright. She needed a hot shower, a warm bed, and a big pillow that could muffle the tears she wanted to shed.

  “Sometimes appearances are deceiving. I thought I’d grown up when I left. Now I’m back, and I feel like I’m starting all over.”

  He shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest. “What’s wrong with starting over? Not like you’re starting from scratch. You’re smart, educated, beautiful. I’d say you’ve got a firm foundation for anything you’re after. You’ve always been a little different from the rest of your family. Nothing wrong with that—and nothing bad about coming home when you’ve finished seeing what the world has to offer.”

  With the scent of soup and his cologne surrounding them and his eyes nearly warmer than the room, she felt the rest of the world recede like the waves. “You never left.”

  “I didn’t need to. It’s okay that you did, Sophia.”

  Lowering her eyes to his chest, she said the words strangling her heart. “They won’t think so. I don’t know if they’ll forgive me for leaving.”

  Declan tapped his hands on the counter, clearly waiting for her to meet his stare. Her breathing went shallow, and she forced her gaze upward. What she saw bolstered her strength.

  “They’re your family. They love you. It’s going to be okay. You didn’t knock over a bunch of banks. You spread your wings. They might not have liked it, but there’s nothing to forgive in that.”

  He didn’t know her family as well as he thought he did. They were traditional, strict. Family was everything. Walking away wasn’t done. That was part of why Marcus was struggling with telling their dad about his side venture. Disappointing their parents was a heavy weight to carry. In Sophia’s case, it was worse. Walking away for a dream she couldn’t even put into words was shameful. Coming back when those things fell apart was…unthinkable.

  She huffed out a breath, tired of worrying. Tired of thinking. “Doesn’t really matter. I came back because this is my home. They’ll have to accept that.” She hoped they would. And not just for her sake.

  Declan smiled easily. “Come on. I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping.”

  “Thanks again for letting me crash,” she said. When his hand rested at the base of her spine, a tingling awareness rippled up and out, spreading over her body. A casual touch shouldn’t make her heart jump. But his did. He dropped his palm to grab her suitcases, and she hooked her overnight bag on her shoulder.

  The wooden stairs were as shiny as the rest of the floor, and she wondered if he had a cleaner. The upstairs of the home was every bit as lovely as the rest of the house. The wide square landing had four doors leading off it. The carpet beneath her feet was plush and warm.

  Declan pointed to the first door to the right of the stairs. “My workout stuff is in there. You’re welcome to it. Or are you still a runner?”

  She smiled. She’d held the Brockton Point record for long-distance running. “Haven’t run in a while, but it’s still my preference.”

  “There’s a treadmill in there.”

  She nodded as he opened the next door, and a smile turned to a laugh. “The playroom?”

  The room was a shrine to all things Lego. Walls of shelves, lined with Lego sets, surrounded the room. A wide window, blinds drawn, took up most of one wall, so there were no shelves there, but there was a table below it with baskets of comic books that looked ruthlessly organized.

  “It’s, uh…a hobby room.”

  She bit her lip and looked up at him, worried about how adorably sexy he was. She was in no place for a man, but Declan James wasn’t just any man. And she got the feeling he didn’t share this part of himself with just anyone.

  “Looks like a lot of work and time,” she said seriously.

  He smiled and nodded. “Yeah. Charlie, Adam’s son? Loves it in here.”

  So did Dec, that much was clear. Pulling the door shut, he walked to the next one. She peeked in and saw a gorgeous bathroom with a clawfoot tub, separate shower big enough for a family of four, and double sinks.

  “I don’t use this one, but there are some soaps and girly things like that in the cupboards.”

  She laughed. “Keep it stocked up for all your girlfriends, do you? Very considerate.”

  He turned quickly, and she stepped back, surprised. His eyes went dark with intensity. “I’ve never brought a woman here. The only women who have been here are Megan and Stella. You met Meg. Stella is her best friend and engaged to Zach.”

  It seemed important to him that she realize that, even though it had been a joke, she was dead wrong. “I was teasing.” She wondered if he was making things clear for a reason or just to set the record straight.

  His shoulders seemed to relax. “I don’t want you to feel that way. Like I just open my house to a parade of women. They don’t take numbers at the door or anything. I know I have a reputation, but most of it is shit. You should know that better than anyone. When you left town, you know the kind of stuff that was said. People gossip, they turn nothing into something like straw into gold. I’ve never led a woman into believing something I wasn’t willing to follow through on.” He paused, stared at her a beat,
and in a lower voice added, “I haven’t even been on a date in four months. Nobody’s talking about that, though. Just the past.”

  She set her bag down and stepped closer. “I’m sorry. No more jokes about what I think I know about you. You’re right when you say I should know better. I’ve come home wanting people to see who I am now. I should offer you the same courtesy.”

  He nodded and turned away from her, and she breathed through her nose, trying to settle her pulse. There were two doorways on the left side of the stairs, and he opened the one next to the bathroom. It had a little window seat that overlooked the water and had pretty throw pillows lining the edge. A double bed made up with a plain, dark comforter took up the center of the room. A nondescript dresser and desk sat against one wall, and bi-fold doors lined another.

  Declan set her suitcases next to the closet. He stared at the bed. “I’m serious when I say you can stay here as long as you need. No need for you to go to a hotel.”

  Sophia threw her bag onto the bed and waited until he looked at her. “I appreciate this, Dec. I really do. I wasn’t sure what to expect, coming home. I still don’t know what it’ll be like when I face my parents, but knowing someone…isn’t unhappy to see me, it’s a comfort. So, thanks.”

  Declan moved around the bed and stood next to her, staring down at her, his hands in his pockets. “I can’t imagine anyone being unhappy to see you, Sophia. Maybe it’s time to push away your assumptions about everything and find out what’s real. You won’t know until you face them. And things are always worse in your head while you’re imagining them than they end up being.”

  Sophia took a shuddery breath. Declan reached out and pulled her into a hug that she was positive he meant to be brotherly. But as her arms went around his sculpted back and her head rested on his hard chest, the strength of him, the feel of him against her felt like so much more.

  Being wrapped in his arms felt like a second chance.

  He stroked a hand down her hair and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Why don’t you shower, get cozy, and I’ll get dinner set up. You want to watch Netflix or something?”

  She leaned back, stepped away. “That sounds perfect.” He nodded and, with an expression she couldn’t read, left the room. Perfect. As if anything could ever be that way. Not for her. Sophia had fallen so far down the rabbit hole, her only option was to take up residence in Wonderland. Unzipping her bag to grab some fresh clothes, she smiled. If Declan’s home was Wonderland, she’d be happy to stay lost in the madness forever. Unfortunately, real life would intrude soon enough. And she’d be back where she started. Alone.

  Sort of.

  Chapter Six

  Declan gripped the edge of his countertop, hanging his head between his knotted shoulders. Fuck. He’d made it thirty-two years without having a woman mess up his head. But Sophia? Yeah, she was in his head, under his skin, and he wanted her in a whole host of other places, too. It was more than attraction: something he didn’t entirely recognize, which told him he was in trouble. The vulnerability she didn’t want to show under that steel spine might be his undoing.

  Pushing away from the counter, ignoring the little voice telling him this would be the one to flip him on his ass, he grabbed bowls and plates, trying to focus on menial tasks.

  Like there was any chore he could do that would keep the idea of Sophia showering out of his head. She was such a contradiction—soft strength. Her skin felt like silk under his fingers, but that backbone was made of steel. She’s hurting, vulnerable, a friend’s sister, a goddamn employee. He wondered if there was anything he could put on a list that would make his heart calm the hell down when she stood close to him. You can feel it; you just can’t act on it. You can’t do one goddamn thing about it.

  Shaking his head with a frustrated sigh, he set two places at the island and grabbed his phone. Keeping his perspective was going to be a lot harder than he ever imagined. Starting a text, he paused, deleted. Started again, then put his phone down. Divided loyalty sucked. Which was why he never put himself in that position.

  Declan picked up his wine and walked to the wall of windows to stare out at the ocean. He felt like that inside: wild, reckless, crashing against an unyielding surface. The storm inside of him raged, vacillating between the need to protect her—even though she wouldn’t want it—and the realization that he should text his friend.

  “Get your head on straight,” he muttered.

  Declan didn’t have any deep, dark secrets that had made him veer away from serious—which, in his mind was more than a couple dates—relationships. His parents were still married and had no issues showing their love for one another. He liked women. Declan laughed out loud. Scratch that. He fucking loved women. He loved the way they smelled when they walked into a room, the way their gaze could say so much without saying a word. He loved their minds, bodies, their ideas and views on everything. They fascinated him, so he’d never been tempted to stick with just one.

  He wasn’t an asshole. He made his intentions clear and never lied to anyone he hooked up with. They knew the score going in, and while some women over the years, especially in the last few, had wanted more, he’d made it clear he didn’t. And he truly hadn’t. Then, like a switch flipping inside of him, he did. And he had no idea what to do with the want. The desire to have someone the way Adam had Meg, Zach had Stella, or his buddy Parker had Garrett. One day, he was happy with eternal singledom. The next? He was imagining a life not so…alone.

  When Adam and Megan had gotten married last year, that switch had flipped in his head or his heart. First, he’d thought the restlessness could be quelled with buying a house, but he’d known, deep down, he wanted something else. He wanted to stop playing around. He wanted someone to come home to.

  The sound of water turned off, and Declan forced himself out of his thoughts to grab the rolls from the oven where they were keeping warm. By the time Sophia walked into the kitchen, her soft footfalls alerting him just seconds before the scent of her shampoo wrapped around him, he’d served up dinner.

  When he turned to face her, his breath caught, like he’d been sucker punched. His eyes locked on Sophia’s, and he couldn’t stop himself from staring. The muscles around his heart actually spasmed, and Declan lost his breath.

  “Jesus, you’re…” Stunning. “You look good.” His voice came out like sandpaper, hardly recognizable to his own ears.

  Sophia touched a hand to her hair, giving him an incredulous look as she laughed. “Is it the slicked back wet hair or the yoga pants doing it for you?” She thought he was joking, but the heavy thud of his heart in his chest reminded him: he wasn’t.

  He’d seen women dressed in designer gowns, sexy-as-sin lingerie, and absolutely nothing at all. Somehow, dressed like she was ready for a night on the couch, curled under a warm blanket, with not one speck of makeup on, Sophia Strombi made him ache. You are in seriously deep shit.

  “I’m not joking. You look better than good, Sophia. You’re beautiful. Whatever happened in Arizona with your guy? He’s an idiot.” That was the truth. A safe one. Friend’s little sister or not, the guy who’d hurt her was an asshat.

  He gestured to one of the bar stools, waited while she boosted herself on it, and then sat beside her. She leaned down and inhaled deeply. When her stomach rumbled, he laughed, grateful the tension he felt dialed down a few notches.

  She looked at him, a touch of pink flushing her cheeks. “Sorry. I should have eaten sooner.”

  Frowning, Declan buttered a roll and passed it to her. She took a large bite, which made him smile again.

  “You can eat at the pub. We don’t have a huge menu, and most of it is fried, but the cooks will make you whatever you want.”

  When she swallowed, she shook her head. “Once I get settled, I’ll probably just bring a lunch. Cheaper, and I don’t want to get in the habit of eating out every day. Though, if you eat there, it doesn’t seem to be doing you any harm.” Her eyes roamed his profile, and heat seemed t
o spread from the inside of his chest out.

  Declan scooped up some soup and let the moment pass, like it didn’t please him that she liked what she saw. They needed to be careful, keep things on safe, platonic ground. He searched his brain for a topic that would put them there.

  “So, you’ve got the pub and the house. What else keeps you busy?”

  He lifted one shoulder. “My toys. I like my vehicles. There’s a Mustang and a Harley in the garage. I spend a lot of my time at the bar, but when I’m not there, I’m here or maybe hanging out with Adam and Meg. Every now and again, I get Charlie for a night. He’s a great kid. You’ll meet him on Saturday.” The back of his neck itched with the thought of her joining his friends for the evening. Or maybe not the thought of that so much as the idea of wanting her there. Because she’s on her own and needs to meet some people while she’s fixing whatever she thinks is broken.

  “This is delicious, by the way. My mom would be proud. And I didn’t mean to insert myself into your weekend plans. I didn’t really know how to decline politely,” she said, spooning up another bite.

  “Thanks. Why would you decline?” Though it’d be a hell of a lot easier for him if she did. He couldn’t see loosening up and just kicking back with friends while she was there. Not if the same tangible energy he felt just sitting beside her was going to be a long-term thing. Maybe he’d made a mistake hiring her. Hiring her? How about asking her to stay here? Maybe if he’d had a date in the last several weeks, he wouldn’t be so off-kilter. But no, his brain and his heart had gone all discerning, and he hadn’t felt like anyone clicked.

  “I just don’t want to intrude or impose,” she said, looking down at her food.

  Declan’s heart muscles contracted sharply at the sadness in her tone. Something more than just needing to be home had brought her back to Brockton Point. She needs a friend. And since he couldn’t be anything else, he’d damn well be that.

  Putting a hand on her shoulder, he squeezed. She glanced up at him through thick black lashes.