Page 32 of Feel Me

“Maybe. Maybe not. Even with him in prison, someone as damaged as Jennifer is likely to find another abuser to take his place.”

“Yeah. You’re probably right,” he says.

He lifts one of the hearing aids from my hand, holding it carefully by the clear and flexible hook. He examines it carefully, twisting it slowly around. Most people, when they imagine hearing aids tend to picture large clunky plastic devices. Mine are practically invisible.

“So when are you going to have dinner with me?” he asks.

This man, who positively drove me crazy, shouldn’t make me smile this easily. “I thought we decided it wasn’t a good idea.”

“No.Yousaid it wasn’t a good idea. I’m saying it is.” He shrugs. “I know I’m not one of those half-naked cowboys on the cover of those naughty books you like . . .”

I bite down on my bottom lip to keep from laughing.

“Or a pirate on the seven seas, my bare chest exposed to the wicked winds.” He bows his head. “And if you want the truth, I don’t even own a kilt.”

I cover my mouth.

“But I’m not so bad. And if it’s the kind of thing that turns you on, I’m sure I can find a place that rents assless chaps.”

If it wasn’t so loud in the common area and he wasn’t turned so I’m the only one who could read his lips, I doubt he’d tell me everything he is.

I like what he has to say. Declan is tall, suave, handsome, I’ve always known that. But this is my favorite side of him, the one who teases and plays, and proves there’s more to this man than ambition.

“No need for ass-less chaps, I assure you.”

The twinkle in his eyes warms me in all the right places. “What about a parrot and an eye patch? Are pointy nipple pirates more your style?”

“No,” I say before I can stop myself. “I like you just the way you are.”

His gaze skims over my features. “Then what’s the problem? Personally, I like what I see.”

If I allowed it, I’d melt right in a puddle at his feet, but I can’t. “Declan, my dad’s your boss. We work together. This can’t possibly end well.”

“You won’t even give me a chance, will you?”

As our stares weld together and I realize I’m feeling more than simply lust, I want to give into that desire to fall into his embrace.

“It’s not a good idea,” I say again. I’m already vulnerable around him. If we start to date and things don’t work out . . . I can’t go there with him. Not if I’m going to stay strong for my father. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

“All right,” he says, placing my hearing aid gently against my palm.

I stand and make my way to the elevators, passing the crowd of people waiting for their turn before the judge. As I step into the elevator and turn back to face the group, my focus falls on Declan, and that’s where it stays. That’s where it always wants to stay.

CHAPTER 9

Declan

Trenti is one of the most elite restaurants in town, custom tailoring their menu for each guest. The food is incredible, the service impeccable. I’ve been here a few times, all with big-wigs with even bigger wallets. But tonight’s a little different. I’m not here to rub elbows with a bunch of suits. I’m here to show a woman what she’s missing out on.

Candles flicker along each table in the dimly lit room. I march across the dark wood floors, following behind the hostess who pauses to give me a very long and appraising glance. Maybe it’s the Armani suit I’m wearing, or the cologne, or lack of tie that caught her interest. Either way, I don’t care. I keep my attention on the table at the far end, a smirk splaying along my lips when I catch sight of Melissa’s stunned face.

As much as I want to speak to her first, I address her father because it’s been too damn long since I’ve seen him. “Good evening, Miles,” I say, shaking his hand. “Sorry, I’m late.” To Melissa, I simply wink, trying not to laugh at the way her jaw practically smacks against the table.

She lowers the glass of water she’s holding onto the white tablecloth. “What are you doing here?” she asks slowly.

“What do you mean?” I say, keeping my grin. “I couldn’t miss your father’s coming out party.” I motion to his menu. “Ready for more than just mashed potatoes, Miles?”

He chuckles, placing his hand against his stomach to suppress the pain laughing causes. Seven inches of colon. That’s how much they removed. Two days after the surgery, he was already calling to check up on things. “I have it covered. Just get better,” I told him.

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