Sliding from her chair, Sailor skips out of the kitchen, leaving us alone.
The second she’s out of earshot, Declan resumes. “Like I was saying. Maybe we can strike a deal. You do a lot around here. What if I prep the meat for meals, as time allows on the weekends, and you just handle the side dishes for a while?” He takes a bite, like he didn’t just make me think this conversation was about to head in a completely different direction.
Despite the innocence of his suggestion, the underlying flirtatiousness—and alternate version my mind came up with—sends a zing of arousal straight to my core.
I swallow thickly, nodding. “That sounds like a deal.”
I’m already doing all of the cooking—that was negotiated within my salary, knowing his hours would be unpredictable. It was important to him that Sailor didn’t have leftovers every single night. And I really don’t mind. A girl’s gotta eat too.
“Great. So, what else should I know about you, Hailey?”
Well, for starters my pulse is through the roof because of you, sir.
“There’s really not that much to tell, and I’m horrible at talking about myself. I’m much better with rapid fire questions.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Play twenty questions?”
“Sure,” I agree. “But only if I get to ask some, too.”
“That’s only fair. Favorite color?” His first question is so basic, I smirk.
“Easy. Yellow. You?”
“Red.” His eyes drift to my hair, and my breath catches. “All-time favorite movie?”
I don’t hesitate. “The Wizard of Oz. Favorite type of music?”
“Country, or rap.”
Interesting. I smile, my pulse buzzing with delight. “Those are two very different genres.”
“They both speak to the soul.” There’s a hint of a smile pulling at the corner of his lips. “What about you? Favorite type of music?”
“Whatever is on the radio,” I quip.
“There’s many different stations.”
“You know! The mainstream stuff. Pop music.”
Wrinkling his nose, he folds his arms over his chest and leans back in his chair. “Ah, a Swifty?”
I lift my shoulders in a playful shrug. “A little. Favorite breakfast food?”
“Bacon and eggs.” He leans forward with his elbows on the table again, and having his sole focus on me spikes my nerves.He’s just so dang gorgeous.“What’s one of your bucket list items?”
“To stay in an over the water bungalow in Tahiti.” There’s no hesitation—it’s my number one bucket list goal.
His eyes twinkle, looking mischievous for a moment. “That’s a good one. I heard it’s beautiful there.”
“Do you travel often?”
“For the team, yes, but for pleasure? Not much.”
“Well, you’ll have to plan more family vacations.” I laugh, even though my thoughts linger on the wordfamily.
Where is Sailor's mom?I don’t dare ask the question burning inside me.
Declan doesn’t mirror my playfulness, and instead, I feel the shift in his demeanor as it shifts.He takes the last bite on his plate and stands abruptly, the back of his thighs pushing the chair behind him in a shrill scuff of wood against wood.
