He’d taken her hand after dinner, and the thrill that ran up her arm at his touch…

It sent shivers down her spine just remembering.

“Are you cold?” Declan asked, concerned. “I can turn the heat up if you’d like.” They were on their way back to her apartment, winding through the dark, cold valley back to Sawyer.

“No, I’m okay.” She squeezed his hand. It felt amazing, just sitting there, holding his hand, as if he wanted her in his life. 

She couldn’t begin to fathom why, but she also couldn’t make herself ask him.

Speaking of things she couldn’t make herself do, she couldn’t make herself ask him why he’d been so hell-bent on breaking up with her all those years ago. After two weeks of telling herself that she was really going to nail him to the wall and make him talk to her, the warmth of the truck, the amazingness of holding his hand…she couldn’t make herself care. At least not enough to break the spell that had been cast over them.

“That train ride was amazing. I’m so glad you thought to do that.” Iris shot him a smile, and he smiled back, slow and easy…and deliciously sexy.

“Me too. I remember going in fourth grade as part of our Idaho History studies, but it’s certainly a lot more special as an adult. Or, they’ve done a lot of work on the train since then.”

“Maybe a little bit of both,” Iris said softly. “Because I don’t remember it being that amazing either.”

What she couldn’t get up the guts to say was that back then, she hadn’t been holding hands with the man she’d loved for pretty much her entire life. Back in fourth grade, Declan Miller was a string-bean boy enthralled with tractors, frogs, and horses, and not necessarily in that order. If someone had told her 10-year-old self that she’d grow up to love Declan Miller, she would’ve laughed in their faces…and then gone on to challenge Declan to a round of H.O.R.S.E. on the basketball court, just to prove she could whoop his ass in basketball.

But when their sophomore year hit and he asked her to be his tutor in Spanish, she’d fallen head over heels in love almost instantly. It’d taken him a whole year to get up the guts to ask her out, and so she’d spent her sophomore year in a constant state of agony, asking all of her friends if they thought Declan liked her, and if he did, why didn’t he ask her out, and was he flirting with another girl during lunch?

It wasn’t until years later that she’d found out that he’d spent their sophomore year in an agony of nerves too, wanting to ask her out but thinking she was too beautiful for him. She snorted at the thought, jerking her back into the present.

“Whatcha thinking about?” he asked her, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles gently. 

“Just how we’d spent our sophomore year liking each other but not having the guts to say so,” she said with an embarrassed blush. “I should’ve been more bold and just told you what I was thinking. I was so shy back then.”

“I never would’ve guessed that. You always seemed so in control, so smart. And watching you out on the court…You were a sight to behold. I figured you had every guy in school panting after you, so why would you want me?”

“Oh, on court I was a beast,” she said, laughing. “No fear there. But off court? Guys were scary, especially guys named Declan Miller. They were the scariest of all.”

He pulled to a stop in front of her apartment, his headlights beaming into her living room windows. Oreo, who’d been up in the window looking out, jumped down out of sight and Iris knew he’d be sitting at the door, waiting for his pettings as soon as she walked in.

“Are you still scared of men named Declan Miller?” he asked softly, turning off the engine, the sudden silence almost deafening. He picked up her hand and began kissing the knuckles, then flipped it over and began nibbling on her wrist. She sucked in a deep breath, suddenly unable to think.

“Noooo…” she stuttered out. “I think…I like them…very…much.” He’d reached her inner elbow which he was softly sucking and licking. Her breath was ragged in the darkness of the cab, almost echoing through the enclosed silence.

“Turns out,” he breathed against her skin, “I happen to like Iris McLains very much.”

“Oh!” she said, the strangled noise erupting from her throat when he reached over and stroked her breast through her shirt. Her whole body was alive with sensations. She didn’t know what she wanted or who she was.

Declan. I want Declan.

Then he was gone and it took her a moment to figure out what was going on. Her eyes shot open to find him swinging the passenger door open.

“Ma’am?” he said in a courtly voice, holding his arms out to her. She leaned into him and he scooped her up into his arms, kicking the door closed with his foot behind him as he went. He carried her down the two steps to her front door.

“You’re going to hurt yourself,” she mock scolded him, trying to pretend as if she really thought that. It seemed like the thing she was supposed to say, although she really couldn’t bring herself to actually worry about it.

“Pshaw,” he scoffed, after she reached out and turned the doorknob to let them in. “You weigh less than a baby calf does when it’s born.” She reached over and flipped on the light, and he gently let her slide down the front of him. She could feel his arousal straining against the fabric of his Wranglers as she slid down, and he sucked in a breath at the touch.

“Only if the calf is really, really big,” she said softly, laughing up at him.

His eyes were dark with lust as he stared down at her. “Oh, some things are real big,” he said with a naughty grin.

That was the last of their conversation for quite a while, as he bent down and kissed her.