Grace

---

When I went back to Boiler Room the next day, I was a jumble of emotions, some good, some less so.

Sean would be home tomorrow, which meant Declan would be gone soon, freed from his job babysitting Sean’s stray.

The logical part of myself, the one I tried so desperately to heed, told me this was a very good thing. I hadn’t seen him since the day when he had touched me, insisted that I couldn’t do something as simple as lift a chair. And in some ways, that was a good thing. He had been a constant in my thoughts, and I knew now, knew again, that he was a threat to the self-control I fought so hard to maintain.

So not seeing him every day, not being tempted by what I wanted but what I knew could never be was only good.

That was what I believed, or at least tried to convince myself that I believed. But in truth, my feelings were much more conflicted.

Yes, not having the constant temptation of Declan around to drive me back to that place I had sworn I’d left for good was for the best, would allow me to keep the neat, contained, bland life I had carved out for myself.

But even as I knew that, accepted it, I knew that not seeing him every day would leave a hole in me.

It had only been a couple of weeks, less than, really, but I had gotten used to his presence. Sometimes grating, always intense, but welcome all the same.

So, as much as my logical brain knew it was for the best that I not see him every day, or at all, really, I couldn’t stop that little feeling of sadness.

I’d come to the pub extra early today and baked a few goodies. Some brown bread, rosemary bread, a sweeter concoction with the macadamia nuts that Sean was so adamantly opposed to.

It wasn’t a celebration, though I imagined it might have looked like one. And I definitely wasn’t doing it for Declan. But it felt right to be in the pub’s kitchen, immersing myself in one of the few activities that took me away from my thoughts and my mind. By the time the pub was due to open, I had reached something of a calm, calm enough to get through the night, I hoped.

Like always, Declan had arrived a few hours before opening and like always, we had moved in relative silence, not exchanging a word.

It struck me as odd that while it was awkward tonight, the silence wasn’t the culprit. I took that as a real test of how I felt about people, whether I could sit with them in silence and not feel compelled to say anything. And, were it not for the tension between us, that awkward tug of discomfort that seemed to be there all the time, I suspected I would have been comfortable with Declan.

Sometimes it still amazed me that he and Sean were brothers. They couldn’t have been more different.

Sean was boisterous, exuberant, where Declan was silent, wary, always watching.

I wondered if that attentiveness was what had appealed to me about him. There was something comforting in his calm, in his silence. Looking at Declan was enough to make me believe that I could trust him, that he would be there if I needed him.

A dangerous thought, a stupid one, one that had no basis in anything like reality, but one that I couldn’t shake nonetheless.

But every time I glanced at him, I saw only reserve, calm, and a seeming complete indifference to me.

It stung, but also was welcome, reminded me that whatever I was building in my head had nothing to do with reality, reminded me that I needed to focus on what mattered, and whatever silly feelings I had for him certainly did not.

The night passed by quiet, uneventful, and soon I was making my evening preparations for closing like I always did.

I cleaned the bar top, watched as Declan stacked the chairs, and then made my way back to the kitchen for any final cleanup.

I was just finishing up the last of my chores when I felt Declan walk in.

I hadn’t experienced that before, being so in tune with another person that I could feel a difference in the air when they were in the room, but there was no other way to describe what happened with Declan. He moved stealthily, silent, something that still impressed me and managed to catch me off guard, though I should have been well used to it by now.

But sound wasn’t necessary. I was acutely aware of his presence the moment he walked into the room, and it was like I was attuned to him. Like some part of me was connected. When he was close, it almost felt like something inside of me shifted, tilted to be close to him.

It was a stupid thing to think, one that definitely wasn’t true, but I felt it nonetheless.

I finished what I was doing and then finally turned to look at him, my back against the commercial refrigerator that I had twisted Sean’s arm to get.

I looked at him, watched as he looked back at me intently, studying his face for any clue of what he was thinking.

All that met me was blankness, but his stare was intense.

It felt like he was looking at me for the very first time. Stupid thought, one I dismissed immediately. I’d known him for five years. He’d looked at me plenty.

Still, though I tried to dismiss it, there was something intense about his look, something different, something I hadn’t seen before.

And worse, or maybe better, it did things to me that I couldn’t quite describe.

The intensity of his stare was so strong that it forced me to do something that I so seldom did with him.

I spoke.

“Pretty soon, you’ll be free,” I said.

My voice was quiet, again that faint wisp of a whisper that I also hadn’t been able to get rid of.

Declan had heard me, though. His face didn’t say that he had, but I knew he had nonetheless. His expression might not have changed, but I was that attuned with him that I didn’t doubt he had heard my words.

“Free?” he said.

The single word, uttered in a way that was designed to suggest curiosity but at the same time made me think he didn’t care was loaded with meaning.

I stayed where I was, wrapped my arms around each other before I quickly dropped them to my sides. I nodded, trepidation crawling up my skin, chased by anticipation that I wouldn’t dare name the source of.

“Yes. You don’t have to be here anymore,” I said.

He stared at me another moment, silent, assessing, before he spoke. “I didn’t have to be here before. I was here because I wanted to be,” he said.

I lifted one corner of my mouth in a quick smile, the gesture part nervous, part curious, tinged with more hope than I dared acknowledge.

“That wasn’t what I understood,” I said.

As he spoke, I wondered why I had gone down this path of conversation but then reminded myself that when it came to Declan, my good sense usually fled.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“It’s just… I know Sean probably had to twist your arm to get you here,” I said.

“Why do you say that?”

Again his expression kept that same completely blank look, one that told me nothing of what he was thinking.

And again I was reminded that I had started this conversation for some reason I couldn’t quite name. It was up to me to finish it.

“It’s just…” I said, trailing off and then looking up at him.

From the way we stood, Declan was pretty much all I could see, his body blocking most of the dim kitchen lights and my view to the door behind him.

It would be so easy to imagine that the world out there didn’t exist, that it was just him and me. But I quickly reminded myself that the world out there wasn’t the issue. The thing that was keeping me from Declan, it was right here. It was the thing that made me want him so deeply, the thing that I could not give into.

“It’s just what, Grace?” Declan said.

His voice wasn’t loud, something I realized wasn’t uncommon. He was such a forceful presence that it was easy to imagine him loud, to think that he was some stereotypical meathead who confused volume with strength.

Nothing could be further from the truth. In fact, I noticed that he, like me, rarely raised his voice.

“Look, Declan,” I said on a deep sigh. I paused, looked at him, saw that he was looking back at me, his expression expectant. “I know I’m not your favorite person.”

I had looked away, a defense mechanism that I didn’t necessarily like, but one that was entirely essential in the face of Declan’s intense gaze.

“Is that so?” he asked again on that gravelly whisper.

“I mean, we’ve never talked about it, but I’m not an idiot. I know you don’t approve of me being here, so I know it was a big deal for you to spend all this time with just me here. Sean was being overly cautious, but come tomorrow you won’t have to worry about it or me,” I said.

I kept my gaze down, settled somewhere around the sleeve of his shirt, the sleeve that I noticed was pulled tight against the muscle of his arm, also taut around his impossibly broad shoulder.

Probably not the safest place to look, but it would be safer than looking in his eyes, seeing that truth that we had both been tiptoeing around for years.

“Actually…”

I didn’t look at him, but the word came out and his response was instant.

“Actually what?” he said.

“Actually, this conversation, as awkward as it is, is probably a relief for you. For both of us,” I responded, trying to make the best of the sudden melancholy that seemed intent on settling in.

“How so?” he asked.

I heard him, but wasn’t really paying attention. Instead my mind was whirling as I tried to process what I was thinking, trying to find the best possible light for this.

“It’s good that we talked about this. I’ve been trying to avoid it, which I know is never a good idea but a habit I can’t quite seem to shake. But I think now is a good time for us to get this all out on the table.”

I had no idea what was driving me, but I went with the instinct and let the words come out. And then, mustering all the courage I could, I looked up and met his eyes.

The midnight-blue orbs told me nothing, but I wouldn’t let that dissuade me.

“So what are we talking about?” he asked, his even-keeled voice no more useful than his expression.

“I just think it’s good that we go ahead and have this conversation. I don’t suppose we’re going to have too much more occasion to be around each other, so we might as well finish this,” I said.

I didn’t allow myself to look away, but his lack of reaction to anything I said wasn’t making this any easier. Not that Declan cared about making it easier. He stood there, his impossibly imposing physical presence there, the expression on his face telling me that the ball was firmly in my court.

Only fair, since I had been the one to bring it up, so I continued on, intent on getting this out of the way. I wasn’t entirely sure what I hoped to achieve, but maybe if we talked about it, got some of this out in the open and cleared the air, I’d feel better. Not comfortable, not around Declan, but at least this thing wouldn’t be hanging between us.

“It’s like I said earlier. I know I’m not your favorite person, and that’s fine,” I added quickly. I knew I sounded like I was trying to convince myself more than him, but I kept going. “I just hope you know that I care about Sean and Jess and Jake, the rest of the family.”

I paused just long enough to study his expression, saw no reaction at all in his eyes. Again the desire to stop came over me and again I ignored it. “There’s no law saying we have to be friends, and if we can’t, I hope we set that aside and be cordial and civil for everyone else’s sake,” I said.

I hated saying those words, thought that being cordial and civil with Declan would be the worst thing, but I was proud of myself for being a grown-up, doing exactly what I was supposed to.

I still had my eyes on his, and he didn’t seem intent on responding, so I lifted my hand, offering it to him to shake.

“What do you say?” I asked, looking at him, hopeful he would agree. “Deal?”

The seconds ticked by, the silence intensifying as each of them passed. I kept my gaze intent on Declan’s face, studying it, trying to anticipate what he might say. My hand lingered there for so long it started to waver, mostly because of my own tension about what was happening, but also because it was just an awkward position.

And then, finally, when I was certain he wouldn’t speak, he did.

“No deal.”

I froze, trying to process what he had said, certain it couldn’t have been what I thought I had heard. But when I looked at him, saw the expression on his face had changed, this time I was certain I had heard correctly.

Because he was no longer looking at me with that same passive and unreadable expression. The look I saw now was fierce, one of absolute rejection, denial of everything I had said.

My breath hitched, got lodged in my throat with the intensity in Declan’s gaze. Somehow, I managed to push that breath out, exhaling in a ragged, staccato way that I was sure he didn’t miss. Still, I pressed on. I knew what drove me. I’d come too far already to be thwarted and the idea of continuing on as we had been was intolerable, even worse than the rejection that it appeared Declan was about to deliver.

“Declan, be reasonable,” I said. A lecture probably wasn’t the best way to get to him, but I needed to salvage the situation and couldn’t think of another way to do so.

“I mean, I’m not asking to be your best friend or anything, I just want us to be cordial to each other, civil, make it so that everyone else can have a good time.”

“Cordial? Civil?” he practically spat, the harshness in the two words bordering on anger.

That anger took me aback as much as his expression had, set off a new round of nervousness that I didn’t need, not when I hadn’t even managed to conquer the others.

I paused for a moment, but only a moment. I’d come too far to turn back now, and besides, I was invested in his response. I wasn’t asking for anything out of line, wasn’t really asking for anything of major importance at all. I wasn’t sure why he was pushing back, but now, I was so embarrassed I wanted to sink through the pub’s floor. The thud of my heart and the blood that had rushed to my head told me embarrassment wasn’t my only emotion.

I was pissed.

“Yes. Cordial. Civil. The way people usually behave,” I said, enunciating slowly.

I wasn’t sure whether he was reacting to my words or the tone of my voice, but his brows dipped and his face dropped into a scowl that was both intimidating and incredibly sexy.

“No deal, Grace,” he repeated.

I looked at him, trying to understand the source of his answer and coming up blank.

“What would you prefer?” I asked, my patience fraying. “Open conflict? Would you like me not to be polite? Do you want me to ignore you?” I asked.

He didn’t respond, and I glared at him, even more frustrated now.

“Declan, be reasonable. If you don’t want to be cordial and civil, you need to tell me what you want,” I said on a huff.

He shook his head. “No. I can’t tell you what I want, but I can show you,” he said in that same gravelly voice.

In the next breath he covered my lips with his.

---

Declan

---

I had no idea what had come over me.

No. That was a lie.

I knew exactly what had come over me, knew that finally, after all these years of resisting, pretending I didn’t want her, I couldn’t, not anymore.

When she’d spoken of a truce, a polite distance, her voice calm, reasonable, her expression asking the same of me, that last piece of control I’d so tenuously held snapped.

I’d tried to think of something that would be worse than a polite, cordial distance from Grace, and in those seconds, hadn’t been able to. What I felt for her was so much deeper, so much more meaningful that pretending it was nothing, that we were nothing, was intolerable.

And when she’d finally met my eyes, hers deep, hopeful, I’d been left with no choice other than to kiss her.

The first brush of my lips against hers opened the floodgates. I’d barely grazed her mouth, but that one little touch broke me. I pressed my lips against hers harder and at the same time reached up to cup the back of her head, holding her still.

She sighed, and I took the opportunity to push my tongue into her mouth. The taste of her, sweet with just a hint of spiciness that made me crave more. I moved on instinct, tightening my hold on her head with one hand as I used the other to pull her closer to me.

She was much, much shorter than me, but she still fit me perfectly, her neat curves tucking against my body in just the right way.

The taste of her, the feel of her body against mine threw me into overdrive. I was ravenous for her, even more so than I’d thought, and kissing her only made my hunger deeper.

I brushed my tongue against hers and then deepened the kiss, tracing every inch of the warm cavern. Grace yielded to my kiss but she didn’t passively receive it. No, she kissed me back, her tentative, soft caresses against my tongue driving me a notch higher.

Moving on instinct, I walked back until Grace was flush against the wall, trapped between it and my body, her breasts smashed flat against my chest, so close that I could feel the hard peaks of her nipples. I kissed her deeper, and at the same time, reached for her breast and squeezed. The plump flesh felt good in my hand, and I knew it would feel even better in my mouth, so I broke the kiss and trailed my lips down the column of her neck, nipping at her soft skin as I went.

I paused long enough to lick her collarbone, tease the hollow at the base of her throat. Then I kept moving, intent on tasting every inch of her.

Froze when I heard the sound that emerged from her throat.

It was a moan. I knew that even in my impassioned haze. But I heard something else in it, something that made me look up at her.

When I met her eyes, they were wide, liquid with desire.

And with shock.

That shock was like a bucket of ice water.

I jumped and scrambled away from her, not trusting myself to be close to her, not right now.

She stared at me wide-eyed for another moment and then blinked, some of the passion I’d seen in her face fading. That left behind the surprise, and that surprise was yet another reminder that I’d gone too far.

I didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what to do.

I knew what I wanted to say. I wanted to tell her how much I wanted her, how long I had wanted her for.

I knew what I wanted to do. Make love to her right here, right now, prove the words with my body.

I didn’t do either. Couldn’t do either.

Instead, I cleared my throat, feeling every bit the asshole I’d proven myself to be.

“Finish up. Then I’ll see that you get home,” I said.

I sounded like myself, but I didn’t feel like myself. One taste of Grace had changed me and would be with me forever.

It would be the only one I’d ever get.