“Addison was Sailor’s entire world.” He stares off into the dark with a bit of sadness. “Did you know one year olds understand far more than we think? I watched her spirit get crushed when I told her mommy wasn’t coming home. After about two weeks, she finally stopped anticipating the dooropening every evening, waiting for her to get home from work. I’m not sure I knew heartbreak until I watched her go through that.”
Shuffling a little closer to him, I take his hand in mine. “Does she ever visit? Call?”
Declan looks down at our hands. My heart pounds and I think maybe I’ve crossed a line—maybe he doesn’t want this comfort from me—but he doesn’t move it. Instead, he shakes his head. “She’ll call every few months. She just did a few days ago, actually, but I’ve stopped answering. She doesn’t just get to pop into Sailor’s life whenever it’s convenient for her. That’s not how parenting works.”
“You’re right. It’s not,” I say with conviction. “And I’m proud of you for advocating for Sailor.”
“I’m her father. I’ll always protect her. Even if it’s from the woman who gave birth to her.”
Picking up more fruit from the platter between us with his free hand, Declan takes a bite, effectively ending the conversation. Giving him a tight smile, I squeeze his hand then let it go, and scoot back into my original spot on the couch.
Trying to lighten things up, I keep my voice chipper and playful. “So what’s the plan for Thursday, then?” I pick up a piece of salami, and roll it up before I bite it in half.
“We’re flying private. Blake bought a team jet, so we’ll meet at Valley-Ridge Airport on Thursday morning and head out as a team.”
“Is everyone staying at the same hotel?”
“Yeah, we always do.” His tone changes mid-sentence, growing more gravely. “I rented the penthouse, like I told you, to make sure we’re all together for Sailor’s comfort, but so you have privacy.”
The butterflies in my stomach stir to life.
For the second time tonight, there’s not enough air in the room. It grows charged—electrified. The thought of sharing a hotel room with Declan makes my heart start to pound when it shouldn’t.
“Sounds good,” I tell him, and it comes out as barely a whisper.
His eyes drop to my lips, and on instinct, my tongue jets out to wet them.
Kiss me.I mentally beg.
Be bold, make the first move, Hartley’s voice flickers through my mind.
But I’m frozen in place.
A moment passes by.
Then two.
Then three.
And then it’s gone completely.
Standing, Declan shoves his hand through his hair. He towers over me, and—unless I’m completely misreading everything—he’s fighting these feelings as much as I am. I can see the conflict etched across his features.
I want to scream,just kiss me, but the words don’t formulate.
“I should turn in—early morning tomorrow,” Declan’s voice is strained, and he’s suddenly avoiding eye contact. “I’ll make sure the guest room is ready, then I’ll come clean up this mess.”
“Okay,” is the only word I manage to say before he gives me a tight smile and practically runs from the room, leaving me in his dimly lit living room on the couch.
I wasn’t imagining that—there’s no way. He wants me, just like I want him. But he’s fighting it.
Now the question is, will either of us ever act on it?
CHAPTER TEN
The team’s already warming up when I finally walk my ass onto the field. I’m late, but there was a rollover accident on the freeway causing a huge delay in my commute time.
My duffle lands with a thud in the dirt next to the dugout, a small dust cloud rising above it. Popping open the cap to my water bottle, I take a few long pulls of the cool liquid before wiping my mouth on the back of my hand.
