Page 103 of Trying Sophie

Chapter Twenty-Five

Declan

Since I’d only beenable to show Sophie two of the places I’d wanted her to include in the profile she was going to write, I wanted to use our date today to cram in as many other spots as possible.

When we’d confirmed our plans yesterday, I’d crossed my fingers and hoped for dry weather so we could stroll around my neighborhood and down to the seafront, but since it was December in Ireland the weather was refusing to cooperate Not that I was surprised, but since it’d been dry and sunny yesterday, I’d held out hope the weather would hold for one more day.

It hadn’t started raining yet, but the skies were black and gray and the wind gusting off Dublin Bay felt like icicles impaling my flesh, so yeah … new plan.

Looking at my watch, I calculated how much longer before her train rolled in. Seeing there was still time, I pulled up the contacts list on my phone and made a couple of quick calls. By the time I finalized our plans, Sophie was stepping off the train, a large overnight bag slung over her shoulder.

“You brought a bag,” I observed unnecessarily as I reached for it.

Her eyes flicked between mine for a moment and she nodded. “I wasn’t sure I would.”

“I know,” I answered with a grin.

When I’d asked her to stay the night, she said she wasn’t sure it was a good idea. For every excuse she tossed my way, I’d countered with a more compelling argument. For half an hour we’d gone back and forth until I grew frustrated with her protests and had stupidly accused her of not being invested in our relationship. She’d sworn up and down that she was, but her refusal to spend the night with me had stung all the same.

But here she was, and she was staying.

Was this what giddy felt like? I wondered.

Tossing the handle over my head, I settled the duffel across my body and took her hand in mine.

“I’m glad,” I admitted, raising her knuckles to my lips.

“I’m still not sure it’s a good idea,” she answered.

Turning to face her, I studied her face for the first time since she’d arrived. She looked tired, her eyes pinched and her mouth set in a grim line.

“Tell me what’s wrong?”

She looked away. “Nothing.”

“Look at me, Soph.” When her head begrudgingly swung back to me, I said, “Now tell me what’s wrong.”

She sucked in a breath and her shoulders sagged. “I overheard my grandparents talking about the future this morning.”

“That’s good though, right? You’ve been trying to get them to think about it since you got here. This is a step in the right direction.”

She sighed. “They weren’t talking about their future. They still won’t consider any of the proposals I’ve put forth.”

Her eyes flashed with ire and color rose to her cheeks. “They were talking about my future.”

“Your future?” I asked nervously.

Alarm must have shown on my face because she laughed humorlessly and said, “Yeah, that was my reaction too.”

“What did they say?” I asked hesitantly, not sure I was going to like what followed.

“Oh, you know, just how amazing it was that their plan for you and me was working out and how maybe now you could convince me to settle down here.” She leveled me with an accusing glare. “Please tell me you never gave them the impression that’s where this was going.”

The truth was, I hadn’t talked to Colm or Maureen in days but her emphatic refusal to even consider sticking around was a blow I hadn’t been prepared for. We hadn’t discussed her staying—hell, since that night at The Georgian, we’d avoided mentioning her departure entirely—but somewhere at the back of my mind I must have thought there was a chance I could persuade her to stay, because hearing her talk about leaving with such force cut me to the quick.

I shook my head. “I haven’t talked to your grandparents since that morning in your kitchen. If they got the impression you were staying, it didn’t come from me.”

“Well, they got it somewhere,” she responded angrily. “And now they’re going to be gutted when I leave anyway.”

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