In this moment, perhaps just for this moment, I am his and he is mine.
I reach the peak and fall over the second time.
Then, suddenly, he's gasping and shouting in my ears, before jerking his satisfaction inside me.
Neither of us talk for exactly ninety-eight seconds after.
I know because I count every breath and every second that passes when my mind returns to me.
The silence is comfortable. Or at least I tell myself that because I don't have the energy to move much less attempt to break it.
It's Declan who ends up doing so, by chuckling.
My head twists to face him. A tendril of insecurity pricks me when I see the genuine mirth on his features. Is he laughing at the sex?
But no. His eyes are trained to the painting in the corner the one I forgot to put away. The painting in watercolor, of a frowning man with dark hair, eyes, and devil horns attached to his skull.
It's a painting of Declan.
"Shit." I bolt up embarrassment spiraling through me. "Ignore that."
"Why? It's pretty good. Very lifelike."
"Shut up." I smack him on the chest weakly and he chuckles again.
Another silence ensues and this one is decidedly less comfortable because I know what's coming before the words even leave his mouth.
"This can't happen–"
"–again, I know." I sigh, keeping my voice noncommittal and unoffended. "You gave me the spiel last time. Remember?"
He regards me with a heavy gaze. "It's not that I don't want to do this with you..."
"Please don't give me the 'it's not you it's me' talk. Trust me, I already know what this was."
"I have a daughter," he says. "She takes priority in my life. And she likes you. I don't want to mess up the relationship by doing...whatever this is."
"Got it," I say. I don't think I'm getting emotional but I look away from him as he gets out of bed, just in case.
The silence when he straightens his clothes is decidedly more awkward and stiff.
"It really is a good painting," is the last thing he says before he leaves.
Chapter Fourteen
Declan
"Here it is," Hal says the next afternoon, sliding me the piece of paper with handwritten amounts on it. He wipes a bead of sweat from his forehead and I wonder if he’s nervous to be having this meeting with me or if he’s simply naturally sweaty.
The thought flits across my mind randomly as I visually scroll down the list of items he's written down. I had him and his team do a once-over of the building and give me the rundown of what it would take to fortify the walls.
It’s just as I suspected. Even without adding interior redecoration and the plumbing, the renovation is taking upwards of a million dollars.
At that point, we might as well rebuild the entire thing and make everything new.
"I don’t know about demolishing it though, Chief," Hal suddenly comments, making me wonder if I said the words out loud. Then again, he's been against the demolition since I mentioned it to him during our first meeting in passing. He scratches his head and admits, "Like I said before, I don’t think a lot of people in town are going to like that."
I raise an eyebrow. "And I should care about that because…"