Falling For Declan (Falling Book 8)

by Tracy Lorraine

  “You know what?” I shout back, spurred on by his attitude. “You fucking do it. I’m going home.”

  I feel a tiny amount of victory when I look up and see the expression on his face. He wasn’t expecting that.

  I grab my bag and umbrella and I’m almost out the door when he calls my name.

  “What?”

  “Text me when you get home.”

  “What? Why?”

  He shrugs. “I just want to know you’re safe.”

  Now it’s my turn to be gobsmacked. “I didn’t think you cared.” I know it’s the wrong thing to say because he’s proved quite well that he does care, but I’m angry and my mouth seems to get the better of me.

  “Of course I care,” he says, standing from his desk and looking me dead in the eyes. “I care too fucking much. But look where that’s got me,” he adds quietly. “Now fuck off, before I say something I’ll regret.”

  Although I’m desperate to know what it is he might say, I do as I’m told and walk out of the office without looking back.

  The walk home is short, but my umbrella doesn’t do a lot to keep me dry, especially at the slow pace I’m going. I can’t shift the nagging feeling that there was something final about what just happened in his office, like that was him telling me he was done and we’re going back to how it used to be. I’m on the cusp of turning around and running back to him the whole walk home.

  By the time I put the key in the front door, I tell myself it’s for the best. Us being so angry will only lead to more insults being thrown and more pain for both of us. It’s best we calm down and talk when things aren’t so tense.

  “Bailey,” I call once I’ve shut the door behind me. He’s usually here the second he hears the key. “Bailey?” I shout again when he still doesn’t appear.

  Another couple of seconds go by and my panic starts to increase. I poke my head into the living room, but nothing. I take the stairs two at a time, telling myself he’ll just be asleep on my bed, but my heart drops when I get there because it’s empty, with only a dent where he was earlier in the day.

  “Fuck, BAILEY, where are you?” I scream into the empty house.

  Running back downstairs, I feel sick the second I enter the kitchen. The back door’s open. “Shit.”

  I step out into the small empty courtyard and that’s when reality hits. He’s gone. Turning on my heel, I throw my bag, not caring where it lands, as I run out the front door, screaming his name as the first of my tears drop.

  I’ve no idea how long I run around the streets, but my throat hurts from shouting and my tears have long since run out. Deciding to head back, knowing I left the front door wide open and thinking he could have come back, I make my way home.

  As I round the corner into the living room, I do find someone in my house, but it’s not who I’m expecting.

  “Where the fuck have you…what’s wrong?” Dec asks when he sees the look on my face.

  “It’s Bailey,” I sniff. “He’s gone.”

  “Fuck, shit.” Before I know what’s happening, I’m pressed up against his hard chest and his arms come around my shoulders. “How?”

  “The back door was open. I must have…”

  “Shhhhh, it’s okay,” he whispers. “He’ll be okay, we’ll find him.”

  He pulls his phone from his pocket the second he lets me go. “What are you doing?”

  “Calling Lilly, she’ll help. BJ and Liam, too.”

  Within a few minutes, Dec has rallied the troops and I’m instructed to stay put just in case he comes home.

  The next couple of hours are some of the longest of my life. I always wanted a dog, but Mum was allergic to them. She told me many times that it would be okay, but I couldn’t do that to her. I knew once she had gone that it was time to find myself a companion, someone to talk to when I was drowning in the pain of losing her. I knew he was the one the second I saw his photo online. I drove the two hour journey the very next day and pretty much demanded that I wasn’t leaving without the puppy in the photo. Thankfully he wasn’t already taken, so only an hour or so later I was heading home the proud owner of my chocolate cockerpoo.

  I may have only had him a few months, but I felt like we had a connection from the very first day. He knew exactly what I needed and would cuddle into me when I was feeling sad and look at me like he understood every word when I felt the need to talk it out. He was everything I needed in those first few months without Mum, and now he’s gone, too. I sob into the palms of my hands as I consider the possibility that I won’t ever see him again.

  I think I must cry myself to sleep on the living room floor because a crash jolts me awake and I’m on my feet in seconds, waiting to see if my puppy is about to come bounding towards me. He might be the next best thing, but when Dec walks around the corner with Bailey’s empty lead in his hands, I crumble. He manages to catch me just before I hit the floor.

  He lowers us to the ground and sits me in his lap. “He’s at the vets,” he whispers as he wipes the tears from my cheeks.

  “Is he okay?”

  “He was hit by a car—” I put my head in Dec’s neck and cry once again. There’s a small amount of relief because I know where he is, but I’ve no idea if he’s alive or dead and I’m too overcome with grief to find the strength to ask. “The vet said he should be fine,” Dec says, managing to break through my sheer panic. “He’s had surgery but he’s going to be fine. They’ve been ringing you to let you know he was there.”

  “I haven’t checked my phone,” I admit. “Can I go see him?”

  “She said it’s best to wait until the morning. He’s still coming out from his sedation and needs to be monitored overnight, but the early signs are good.”

  I turn on Dec’s lap so I’m straddling him and wrap my arms around his shoulders as tight as I can as I get my breathing back under control.

  When I pull back and look into his concerned blue eyes, I feel like part of my world has righted itself. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper. I’m not sure what I’m apologising for exactly; it could be anything, but they’re the only words I can manage.

  “Me too.” He continues staring deep into my eyes as his hands come up to my cheeks. “I’m sorry I ever gave you reason to doubt me. I’m sorry I didn’t fight harder, and I’m sorry I was a dick to you tonight. I’m also sorry I haven’t told you something sooner.”

  I don’t ask what he means. I don’t think he needs me to, because all of a sudden his lips are on mine and he’s flipping us so I’m on my back. His thighs pin my hips to the ground and his elbows cage in my head, but it’s neither of those that keep me in place, it’s the look in his eyes when he opens them and stares down at me. They’re full of an honesty I’m not sure I’ve ever seen before.

  “I love you, Nicole, and I think I always have.”

  I suck in a sharp breath at his words as my heart continues to race inside my chest. Feelings I’d tried to lock down a few days ago are suddenly rushing forwards again and I find myself totally speechless as we continue to stare at each other.

  “I think this is the point where you’re meant to say something.” A little confident smirk is playing on his lips, but I can see the trepidation in his eyes that he’s just put everything on the line and I’m not going to return the sentiment.

  “I think I’ve always liked you really, too.”

  His eyebrows rise but I can tell he knows I’m joking. “Oh really?”

  “You’ve been an epic dick at times, and you probably don’t deserve it, but…”

  “But…” He’s trying desperately to keep his expression blank, but I can see through his mask. He needs to hear the words just as much as I did a few moments ago.

  “Declan Morrison, you’re the biggest pain in my arse and the most infuriating man I’ve ever met in my life…I love you, too.”

  I barely get the words out before his lips are back on mine and he’s kissing me like it’s our first.

  * * *

  I wake to
the sound of banging coming from my kitchen. Stretching my legs out, I realise how much my back hurts. Opening my eyes, I’m hit with reminders of last night. Dec telling me to leave, coming home and finding Bailey gone, Dec then telling me he loves me. Those words meant everything to me last night, but I can’t focus on what they mean properly until I know Bailey is okay. Dec said he’d had surgery, but I have no idea what for or how bad his condition is. Sitting bolt upright, I look around my empty living room. I guess I fell asleep after he made love to me, because I have no recollection of getting the blanket I’m currently covered in.

  Another bang reminds me of why I’m awake before he appears in the doorway, wearing only a bright pink pair of boxers. I can’t help but smile at the sight.

  “Where’s your frying pan?” he asks in a bit of a fluster.

  “Uh…in the cupboard next to the oven. Why?”

  “I’m trying to make you breakfast. That cupboard is empty, I’ve looked everywhere.”

  I groan to myself. I know exactly where it is. “Try my wardrobe,” I say on a sigh.

  “Your wardrobe?”

  “I sleep walk and it quite often involves kitchen equipment and hiding stuff. I’ve no idea why, but that would be my first guess.”

  He stares at me with a mixture of amusement and shock on his face. “You’re weird,” he says as he walks from the room.

  “Thanks,” I call after him with a laugh.

  I listen to his footsteps above my head before I hear his own laugh. I guess he’s found them.

  When he reappears, he’s not only holding the missing frying pan but the whole pan set we bought the day we went shopping.

  “I guess you haven’t been doing a lot of cooking.”

  “It was probably last night.”

  “Should I be worried about this sleep walking? Should the front door always be locked and car keys hidden?”

  “I’ve never left the house. It happens when I’m stressed or worried about something. It was horrendous every time Mum was diagnosed, and it’s been happening recently with…”

  “With?”

  “You.”

  I watch as he puts the pans down and then stalks towards me. “Me?” he asks, like it’s the craziest thing he’s ever heard.

  “Yep, you. You stress me out. It was easier when I hated you.”

  “I guess I’d better help relax you, then.” He drops down to his knees beside me, whips the blanket off and gazes hungrily at my naked body.

  “What about breakfast?”

  “I’ve found something else to eat.” He encourages me to lie back before his hot mouth finds my nipples and he licks and sucks until I’m starting to writhe. “Horny little thing, aren’t you, Ginge?” he asks against my skin as he kisses down my stomach. “I wish I knew years ago how turned on you get by my teasing.”

  My response dies on my lips when I feel his tongue against my clit. He licks at me before sliding two fingers deep inside. “Always so fucking wet for me. You’ve never hated me, have you?”

  I thrash my head from side to side. I’m not sure if it’s in answer to his question, but he’s right. I’m pretty sure I’ve never actually hated him.

  We end up showering together before we make it back to the abandoned pans in the kitchen. “So what were you planning on cooking?”

  “I found some eggs, and I thought I could probably manage an omelette.”

  “Sounds perfect, crack on,” I say, leaning against the worktop to watch him.

  “The vet said we could go for nine, so we’ll have this and then go see Bailey. I’ve already told the others you won’t be in today, they’ve got it covered.”

  “Thank you.” I walk over and wrap my arms around his waist. “Thank you for last night, for coming to find me, and for not yet giving me a hard time about what happened.” Nothing has been said yet about the whole Georgia thing, but from how angry he was, I know it must still be at the forefront of his mind.

  I feel him tense up the moment I bring it up. “I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you. She was just so convincing and it was like my biggest fear was playing out in front of my eyes. It’s her I don’t trust, and I should have allowed you to explain. It wasn’t fair to put my feelings about her on to you like that.”

  He’s silent as he continues cooking. His lack of response puts me on edge. Is he about to revert back to how he was yesterday? Have I just reminded him how angry he was? Was last night only due to Bailey being gone and my distress?

  Taking a step back, I allow him to cut the omelette in two and slide it on to a couple of plates.

  “Here.” I take it from him and grab two forks from the drawer.

  We eat in silence and it doesn’t do anything for my state of mind. He made me feel like everything was okay first thing this morning, but now?

  “Dec, please say something.”

  I watch as he drops his fork onto the plate and looks up to the ceiling. “Why did you suddenly believe I didn’t do anything? You were so set on me being guilty.”

  I swallow a huge lump in my throat as I think back to how I treated him. My conversation with BJ yesterday is at the forefront of my mind but I promised him I wouldn’t say anything. Shit.

  Dec continues to stare at me as I try to come up with something that doesn’t sound ridiculous.

  “Just spit it out.”

  “It was BJ,” falls from my lips.

  “Motherfucker.”

  “Don’t be mad at him. He was just trying to help.”

  “I told him not to get involved.”

  “Well, he did, and he showed me just how bloody wrong I was. I’m so sorry.”

  I can tell that he wants to say more. He’s clearly still not happy with how I handled the situation, but when he glances over at the clock and tells me it’s time to go, I soon forget about the whole conversation in favour of worrying about the state I’m about to find my puppy in.

  Thankfully Dec drives, because he takes me to a part of town I’ve not been to and a vet I didn’t know existed.

  The wait in the reception is almost as painful as the hours I spent sat waiting for appointments with Mum. The rule of thumb there generally was the longer the wait, the worse the news was. We’d sit there side by side in what could only be described as a corridor, staring at the fliers and leaflets pinned to the wall ahead for different cancer charities and phone numbers for how to deal with everything. I’m pretty sure the times spent sat in those chairs were the most depressing of my life. I’d take sitting next to her hospital bed any day over the anxious wait over the bad news that was sure to come our way.

  My knee bounces in anticipation so much that Dec eventually places his hand on it to stop me.

  “It’ll be okay. They didn’t sound overly concerned on the phone last night.”

  “He was hit by a car, how can it be anything but bad?” I ask, the sick feeling increasing with every word that comes out of my mouth.

  When I look down at the ground once again, a tiny white feather comes to rest by my foot. Bending down to pick it up, I rub its soft down between my fingers. A little bolt of positivity washes through me that Dec’s right, and Bailey’s going to be okay. I feel Dec’s eyes on me, but I don’t look over. I just keep repeating in my head that he’s fine.

  “Here for Bailey?” a young woman in scrubs calls, and I lunge towards her in my eagerness to find out what’s going on. “This way.” Her calming voice actually breaks through my anxiety and I find myself breathing slightly slower as I follow her. It helps that Dec’s hand is in mine. I’m sure I’m squeezing the life out of it, but he hasn’t yet complained.

  My heart drops the second I walk into an empty room. My rational side knows she wouldn’t have left him in here alone while she came to get me, but in my sheer panic I cry out and fall into Dec as grief overwhelms me.

  “Nic, calm down. Look.” When I eventually pull myself away from his chest and glance over my shoulder, I see the excited deep brown eyes of my puppy.

  �
�Bailey,” I cry as I drop to my knees and gently pull him to me, which isn’t all that easy with the giant cone around his neck. “Don’t you ever do that to me again.” I’ve no idea if he’s suffered any lasting damage or even if he has all his legs, but in that moment, I don’t care. I can deal with anything as long as he’s still with me. He’s been my lifeline, my saviour. I’m not ready to lose him yet, not when he’s got his whole life to live.

  The vet and Dec wait patiently while I have my moment. When I’m feeling a little more stable, I stand up and look at the vet to hear what’s wrong.

  “He was very, very lucky. We were concerned about internal bleeding but everything inside seems to be okay, just a little swelling and bruising, which is to be expected. So really, it’s just the broken leg.”

  I look down and see Bailey is sporting a blue cast on one of his back legs that I totally missed.

  “A few weeks in cast and he’ll be as good as new.” The vet continues explaining everything I need to know about Bailey’s recovery and gives me a couple of packs of tablets for him to take.

  Before we leave, I fill out all the paperwork to register him as a patient. I almost have a heart attack when I see the bill for his treatment, and I’m so glad I had the hindsight to take out a good insurance policy when I first got him, so I get away with just paying the excess. After booking his follow up appointment for a few days, we head back to the car. It’s a little slower than I’m used to because for the first time ever, he’s not pulling at the lead trying to get away to explore. Instead, he hobbles on three legs, looking like a bit of a sad case. Dec notices me watching him struggle and he takes pity on him as well and sweeps him up into his arms. The sight of Dec embracing my broken puppy brings a massive lump to my throat. I nearly threw this away over my stupid insecurities and trust issues.

  “Can you stop at the supermarket, please?” I ask when Dec pulls to a stop at the traffic lights before the turning.

  “What do you want? I’ll run in.”

  “It’s okay. I want to cook you dinner and get some treats for limpy. I won’t be long,” I lean over and give Dec a kiss before rubbing Bailey’s head and jumping down from his van.