CHAPTER 15
Declan
The Eagle’s defensive tackle tears down the field and we lose our damn minds. “Go, go, go―oh!”
And the Giant’s Number 25 takes him down five yards from the field goal. Game over. We pile away from Killian’s giant flat screen, except for our oldest brother Angus who’s flipping the screen off with two giant middle fingers. “Fuck you!”
This is what Sundays are all about: Football, family, and stuffing myself with food guaranteed to give me the big one before my time.
Instead, I’m wondering if Mel is still at her dad’s, how well she’s holding up, and counting the hours before I see her again.
When exactly did I surrender my balls?
Banging from the kitchen has me looking across Kill’s large family room. “We’re out of wings,” Finn yells. “Sofe said she made lots of wings. Where the hell are the wings?”
“Fuck you!” Angus yells again as the replay flashes across the screen.
“In that bottomless crater you call a stomach,” Killian yells back at Finn. He reaches for another chip. “They were gone by half time. It’s my fucking house and I only had one.”
I shake my head, laughing. “How does Sofia put up with him? Hell, with any of us?” I’m not kidding. Every time we come over Sofia makes a ton of food and doesn’t stick around to enjoy it.
“She likes taking care of us. It’s kind of her thing,” Killian says. He finishes swallowing, the corner of his lips tugging into a smile. “She wants to start trying for a baby.”
“No shit,” Curran says, taking a pull of his beer.
“Fuck you!” Angus hollers yet again.
“Angus,” I yell. “Get over it, man. We’ll get them next time.” I turn back to Kill. “You think you’re ready?” Christ, he and Sofe are so young.
“We’ve known each other forever. I think it’s time.” He grins in that way he always does when he talks about Sofia, exactly like he has since they were kids playing on the street. “When I picture me and her years from now, it’s always with a houseful of kids running around. I want it, you know? I told her we could, but first I want to go to a few places we’ve never been―the islands, Ireland, Italy, countries we won’t necessarily be able to see if we have babies right away.” He shrugs. “I want to spoil her some. God knows she deserves it,” he says, motioning to the mess in front of us and what remains of the food she prepared.
“You’re so fucking whipped,” Seamus says, digging through the dip like he’s afraid Sofe will be insulted if he doesn’t finish every last morsel.
“Nah,” Curran says. “He just knows he has it good.”
This is what I struggle with. I know that Kill and Curran mean it when they say they love their women, Finn, too. That doesn’t mean I believe in love.
At least for me.
Maybe.
Fuck. How did I fall into a relationship?
It’s not a good time to ask, not with Seamus whoring around with every single woman in Philly, and Angus who only wishes he could whore around. Angus has been engaged for twenty non-fucking years and he’s a miserable bastard.
Christ. I’m not sure what I’m feeling with Mel is real or something I think I’m supposed to feel. Either it’s too soon, or it can’t possibly be normal. Davies from Arson was flirting with her the other day in the hall. She politely declined his offer to dinner as I approached, her eyes widening when she caught my less-than thrilled expression. Can anyone blame me? The way he leaned into her, how he couldn’t keep his eyes off her ass when she walked away, it took all I had not to shove the Sexual Harassment policy in his face and yell at him to get back to work.
Ever since we started sleeping together it’s like every single guy―and even some of the married staff want more than her professional advice. It’s not like I’ve never noticed men watch her bounce down the hall, or stare a little longer than necessary, but lately it’s like these horny bastards can’t get enough of her.
“So you and Sofia are good?” I ask Killian, ignoring the tension claiming my shoulders.
“Real good.” He cocks his head. “Why?”
I should let it go because I don’t want to piss him off or disrespect his marriage, but this jealousy shit isn’t like me. At least, it never used to be. But here it is, eating at me. It has to get better over time, and who better to ask than Kill and Curran who are sitting right in front of me.
“No big deal,” I say, turning it around on him. “I just know for a while there were a few guys at the gym checking her out.” I shrug. “Just wondering if that changed when you got married.”
I normally don’t probe my brothers for bullshit like this. Kill, who’s pretty laid back, except when it comes to Sofia, lowers his deep voice in time with his darkening expression.
“If you want to know the truth, my ring around her finger hasn’t done a damn thing.”
Seamus polishes off the dip. “You serious?”
“Yeah, I’m serious. All those idiots working out―the same idiots swearing up and down that they want to be the next MMA champion―still stop what they’re doing when she walks by. Oh, and those stupid marketing reps, I’m ready to break them in half. They’re always like, ‘Hey. Where’s your girl, Sofia? I need to talk to her about our new product.’”
“What’s so bad about that?” I ask.
Finn sits down with a plateful of ribs he found in the fridge. “It’s their way of telling him they want to fuck her―Hey, you going eat that hot dog?”
I pass Finn my plate without even looking at him. “You can’t be serious.” At Kill’s stiff nod I ask, “How the hell do you put up with that?”
“I don’t. I threw the last three assholes out of my gym. Sofia called each one back―get this―apologizing on my behalf for overreacting.”
“Oh, hell,” I say.
“It’s all good,” Finn says through a mouthful of food. “She got us a sweet deal on a bunch of merchandise for the gym. But yeah, they still want to fuck her.” He does a double-take when Kill glares at him. “What? I’m just speaking the truth. It’s the same damn reason I don’t let Sol come to the gym. If anyone puts the moves on her with me standing there, someone’s leaving in an ambulance and it’s not going to be me.”
“Christ,” I say, shaking my head.
Curran huffs, pointing at Killian. “Finnie has a point. You should have ripped those bastards in half. Get this, me and Tess went to her OB the other day. She’s been going alone because I’m usually working or with the baby. But this last time I had the day off and wanted to go, seeing how I’ve been missing out and because I never missed one when she was pregnant with Fiona. So I show up with her and in walks this dude.”
Seamus leans in. “Her doctor’s a man?” Curran nods. “And you didn’t know?”
“The moron’s name is Dr. Rosey. Rosey. Would you think that name belongs to a man?”
“No,” we all grumble.
“So at first I’m just in shock,” Curran says, continuing. “So I shake his hand like a dumbass. But then he pulls out these stirrups―”
“Pants?” Finnie asks, sounding as confused as the rest of us appear.
“No. Worse,” Curran says. “They’re these things at the end of the examination table used to spread a woman’s legs open.”
“Jesus Christ,” we all groan. Finnie and Seamus are so grossed out they push their plates of food aside.
“I know, on the table my woman is laying on!” His face reddens, he’s still pissed. “I’m standing there watching her put her legs in these things. But it’s when good ol’ Dr. Rosey slaps on the rubber gloves that I completely lost my shit.”
“Did you tell him to get away from her?” I ask.
“Of course I did. Do you think I was going let some man feel up my wife―my pregnant wife― in front me?” He throws his hands in the air. “Tess was all mad, saying I embarrassed her and blew things out of proportion.” He points at me. “But you know what? Now she has a new doctor and this time I made damn sure she’s a woman.”
My brothers all nod in agreement. “You did the right thing,” Angus says.
“I know I did,” Curran agrees. He looks at me. “You’re fucking Melissa, aren’t you?”
Sometimes, I really hate Curran. “No,” I say, waiting too long to answer.
“Liar,” Seamus says, regaining his appetite and stealing Finnie’s hot dog.
“You don’t even know who we’re talking about,” I snap.
Seamus laughs. “Maybe not, but we know whoever she is you’re fucking her.”
“Watch your mouth,” I growl.
Finn smirks. “I saw that coming a mile away.”
“You didn’t see shit,” I tell him.
He ignores me, calling to Curran. “Didn’t I tell you it was only a matter of time?”
“I’m the one who told you, asshole,” Curran fires back.
I dig my hands into my hair. “Will both of you shut the fuck up?”
Killian frowns. He’s been quiet, but it’s more like him to sit back and observe. “You like her, don’t you?”
I reach for a beer, but then think better of it. “She’s nice.”
“Nice?” Killian repeats.
“Yeah.” It’s all I can think to say. I’m having a real hard time pretending Melissa isn’t more than a nice woman I work with. Every waking thought is about her. The way she smiles when she sees me, or how she settles me with her presence, even when the cases I’m juggling seem like more than any one man can handle.
“Damn,” Curran says. “Tess was right.”
This time, it’s my turn to frown. “What do you mean Tess was right?”
I expect to find Curran smirking like always, and maybe having a laugh at my expense. But he’s not doing either. His tone is as serious as his expression. “She said she knew you were going to fall for Melissa. That anytime she was around youz, it was like she was intruding on something personal.”
“She said that?” I ask. Curran can be full of it. But he’s not joking now.
“Those were her exact words,” he says, polishing off his beer. “Guess she knew what she was talking about.”
Guess she did. I rub my eyes. God, kill me.
“You’re in trouble aren’t you?” Curran asks, like he knows exactly where I’m coming from.
Hell, maybe he does. “In more ways than I can count,” I admit.
“Did you knock her up?” Angus asks.
“No, Angus,” I groan.
“So run, man,” Angus insists. “Run while you can before you’re engaged to a woman who hates your guts . . .”
“Molly doesn’t hate your guts,” I counter.
“. . . And you stop having sex for years,” he continues. “I’m in hell, Declan. Every day I wake up in hell.”
“Angus, why are you and Molly still together if you don’t even like each other?” Seamus asks, throwing out a hand. “You’ve been engaged for like, two decades now. Cut her loose and walk away.”
“She wants to have five kids, five,” he says, ignoring Seamus. “I told her that unless it’s immaculate conception that shit’s not going to happen.”
I stand and head into the kitchen to dump my trash when I realize what time it is, and because I don’t want to hear Angus bitch about Molly. This thing between him and Molly is exactly what I don’t want. They’re with each other because they think they should be, stuck in a place neither wants to be, holding each other back from what they could have and accomplish.
Son of a bitch.
“Thanks, Kill,” I tell him, trying to shake off what I’m feeling. “And tell Sofia I said thanks for having us.”
We exchange goodbyes like brothers do. I expect to make a quick exit, kicking myself for bringing anything up. I should have just sucked up what I’m feeling and dealt with it. Now, my head is spinning with a slew of garbage I could have gone without.
It’s like all the good Kill, Curran, and Finn have, doesn’t make up for all the shit Angus deals with. Maybe because I think Angus is more the norm―two people together because they think they have to be. That’s not love. That’s not real. It’s exactly what my parents had and the exact same thing I’ve spent my life avoiding.
I’m almost to my car when Curran jogs down the steps. “Hey, Deck, wait up.”
“Curran, I have to go.”
He ignores me. Wow. There’s a shock. “Why you being a moody bastard?” he says when he catches up.
“I’m not,” I practically snarl.
He leans back on his heels. “Yeah. It shows.”
I’m ready to get out of here, walk away and not look back. But I’m headed to Mel’s and straight into everything I can’t come to terms with.
Curran makes it clear that he’s not going anywhere. I take a chance, seeing how it’s obvious I’m not dealing well with this thing on my own. “Look, I might be in over my head with Melissa.” I sigh. “I like her. With the exception of a couple of nights, we’ve spent every night together.”
“Since when?”
I give it some thought, wondering where the time’s gone. “A few weeks.”
“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” He motions to the house. “Better than the shit Angus is putting up with by staying with Molly.”
“I don’t know if it’s any different,” I say.
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” he asks.
“That I’m not sure what we have is genuine or if it will even last.”
Anyone else would tell me to dump her and walk away, like Angus did. But Curran knows me and because he does he sees right through me, asking me the one question I’ve tried to avoid. “Do you love her?”
I don’t answer because no matter what’s happened between me and Mel, how much we’ve shared, and how deep we’ve shared it, I’m still the man who thinks love is temporary and mostly bullshit. “We’re exclusive,” I say instead. “But I’m at a crossroad.”
“A crossroad?” he repeats.
“I’ve never been with a woman this long,” I remind him. “We’re keeping it quiet at work and having a good time alone. But I think we’re at a point where I either have to move forward, or not and break her heart.”
“Seeing how worked up you are, it sounds to me like you don’t want to hurt her.”
“I don’t,” I answer truthfully. Jesus, when I think about how good she is to me, and how much we rely on each other? It’s the last thing I want.
“Good,” Curran says, frowning. “It would be a douchebag thing to do especially with everything going on with her dad.”
I huff. “Tell me about it.”
“So are you going to do it? Move forward, I mean?”
“I don’t know. The next step is huge.” I zip up my jacket when the breeze picks up.
Curran huddles into his sweatshirt, smirking when he realizes where I’m going with this. “Thanksgiving?” he questions.
“It’s two weeks away. I have to decide whether or not to ask her.” I pause when I realize he’s laughing. “You think this is funny?”
“It’s not a death warrant, Deck. It’s a relationship. Either it works or it doesn’t, and you move on.”
“The problem is, I think I should move on,” I admit.
“Why?” he asks. “I thought you liked her?”
I lean against my car, put off by how much I’m telling him. “I wasn’t ready for this. Things got serious between us fast. I never expected to feel this way and I almost can’t.”
“Why?”
“I still have a lot to do. I wasn’t just blowing smoke when I told you I wanted to become the next mayor.”
Curran shrugs. “So become the next mayor. Mel isn’t stopping you. If anything, she can help. Look at how she talked the governor into hiring extra staff for SACU, and how she puts out fires and takes care of shit when you’re ready to lose it. She’s good to you and is good for you.”
“Are you saying I should invite her to Thanksgiving?”
“Yes, Declan.” His brows furrow. “Why are you making this harder than it is? You sound like a goddamn pussy.”
“I’m not trying to sound like a pussy,” I snap, my voice so sharp it takes Curran by surprise. I tone it down when I realize I’m yelling. “Believe it or not, I’m trying to do the right thing and I’m not so sure that I am. She’s not like the others. You hear what I’m telling you?”
“I know,” he says. “If she was, you would have dumped her by now and fucked at least five other women after her.”
“It’s more than that,” I admit. I scan the area, taking in the brick homes and big back yards. This is the kind of neighborhood where you can raise a houseful of kids, have barbecues, and make memories. Exactly what Kill and Sofia will do, and Curran and Tess, and Finnie and Sol. It’s something they’ve probably always wanted. But I never have. Before Melissa I never entertained the thought of that home with the white picket fence or who’d be waiting for me inside.
And now . . . aw, hell. What did I get myself into?
“I wanted to be the next D.A.,” I tell Curran, staring past him. “And now I’m doing it. Mayor is my next step, and probably governor after that. How can I accomplish everything I want and still be there for Melissa? I can’t. So I turn my back on her, leaving her with no one but her sick father. The last time I saw Miles, I was sure he was living on borrowed time.”
“So in inviting her to Thanksgiving, you think you’re offering her more than you’re ready to give? Leaving her with the impression there’s more down the line?”
“It’s not just dinner, Curran. It’s her meeting the family and . . .” I shake my head. “Christmas is next, then everything else. I want to share this time with her, I do. But not if it means putting us in a position neither of us ever wanted.”
“You mean a position you’ve never wanted, right?”
Curran doesn’t mess around, not when it’s real. “That’s right,” I admit through my teeth.
“Hell, Deck. Man up,” he tells me. “Melissa is a good girl, but she’s not stupid. You start acting like you don’t want her around, you won’t have to worry about leaving her. She’ll dump your ass and you’ll fucking deserve it.”
I watch him jog back into the house, cursing under my breath when I realize he’s right.