Page 67 of Vengeful Vows

All my love,

Daidí.”

Bree’s hands are trembling slightly when she clutches the letter to her chest.

“Thank you, Declan,” she says in an almost whisper. “This means a lot to me.”

Her hazel eyes are wet and full of some emotion I can’t quite name when she looks up at me.

I give her a soft smile, running my hand over her hair before taking the brush from her, and start brushing it. She’s looking at me in the mirror, almost as if studying me.

“Do I have something on my shirt?” I look down with a frown.

“No,” she blurts, looking away and flushing. “It’s just that you look handsome today.”

I grin. “Thank you, princess. You always look beautiful, too.”

I lean down to kiss the crown of her head, and there’s a little pep in my step as I walk downstairs for dinner.

Bree follows shortly, wearing a green shift dress that shows off her hazel eyes. She sits next to me, giving me a small smile.

We’re the only ones at the table.

“I guess everyone else is late for dinner,” I comment, and Bree nods, seeming almost shy.

What’s going on with her? Maybe she’s just overwhelmed by finally getting to communicate with her family.

My father and Gray come down next, chatting in hushed tones about something, and I frown as Paige and Lara trail in, as well.

“What’s going on?” I ask in a low voice when my father sits at the head of the table, next to me.

“After dinner,” my father barks, and I want to roll my eyes, but I know better.

My father hates talking about business at the table or talking about anything remotely negative. Dinner time is family time, and he’s always enforced that.

“Fine,” I mutter, and take Bree’s hand under the table.

She squeezes it, and my heart skips in my chest.

I’ve really got to deal with these growing feelings for her, but if I’m honest with myself, I don’t know how to. Every part of me wants her, all the time, wants her happy and safe and....

Loved.

I’ve been loath to even think about those three little words, but it’s getting more and more serious, and it’s not like I can talk to Gray or our father about it. Hell, even if I talked to Paige and Lara, they’d just blab to Bree. I certainly don’t want her to know that I have feelings for her.

What if she doesn’t feel the same way?

I look over at her, but she’s focused on Paige, chatting idly about this house she fell in love with. A brownstone house with four rooms and a gym in the basement.

“Maybe now I can have that chihuahua I always wanted.” She is bouncing on her seat.

I squeeze Bree’s hand. “Did you know Bree has a dog?”

Bree freezes, stiffening up, and I pat her thigh.

“Molly,” she says quietly. “She’s my old lady.”

“How old?” Gray asks. “Lara had a cat once that I swear was almost as old as she was when it died.”

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