Page 104 of Trying Sophie

“Maybe they’re not the only ones,” I muttered through clenched teeth.

“Maybe you have more reasons to stay than you have to go,” I added.

“Like you?” she asked and I shrugged noncommittally.

Her anger turning to something resembling pity, Sophie placed her hand on my arm.

“Declan,” she sighed.

Shaking her off, I resumed walking.

“Hey, wait up,” she called out, rushing to keep pace with my long strides. “Hey,” she repeated, reaching my side. “Talk to me.”

“I have,” I bit out. “I do.”

“Not about this. In fact, we haven’t talked about us at all.”

I stopped again and turned to her. “I thought I made myself clear back at the hotel and again last night. I’m all in. You? Not so much.”

She didn’t respond. We’d been through this; there was no reason to bring it up again.

“Look, it’s cold out here and if we keep stopping every 20 meters to argue, we’re never going to make it to lunch.”

“I didn’t realize we were arguing,” she answered cautiously. “But you’re right, it is cold. Should we drop my stuff at your place and then head out?”

Shit. Light as it was, I’d forgotten all about her overnight bag.

“I’m about ten minutes this way,” I said, pointing toward the end of the road. When I started walking again, Sophie fell in step next to me.

“Cute street,” she replied, her eyes taking in the red Victorian houses lined up in terraced blocks of ten.

Looking at it with fresh eyes, I agreed. “Yeah, it is. I bought my place about a year ago when I got tired of Aidan. It’s weird having a house all to myself, but it’s on the smaller side so it’s not too bad.”

“You’ve got me beat,” she answered with a chuckle. “I pretty much live out of suitcases.”

And there it was: another pointed reminder of her nomadic lifestyle. The lifestyle that was going to take her away from me.

When Sophie bit her lip and looked away, I knew her thoughts had taken a similar turn. Good. Maybe if she thought about it often enough, she’d see there was no reason for her to leave quite so soon. Especially since I’d asked what her next job was and she didn’t have anything specific lined up yet.

Maybe that’s why it feels like she’s running away from me, instead of running toward something important.

“Here we are,” I said, gesturing at my brick-fronted cottage.

Sophie’s face split into a huge grin. “It’s adorable,” she squealed as we made our way up the red and black tiled walkway to my front door. Smirking she added, “The window boxes are a nice touch too.”

Even though I was pissed off, her observation forced a smile. “What can I say? I love Christmas.”

“Please tell me you did all this yourself,” she begged, taking in the whole winter wonderland scene.

Dropping her bag at my feet, I looked around, seeing it from her point of view. “Yeah. Maybe I went overboard,” I confessed sheepishly, settling my key in the lock.

I actually thought I’d held back with only the two automated reindeer. And the window boxes she’d mentioned were stacked with fewer “presents” than I’d initially included.

“No, it’s perfect,” she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around me from behind. She squeezed me tight, then added, “You’re perfect.”

My heart jumped and my throat constricted but I blinked away my reaction. Maybe it made me a chick, but it was going to be hard enough to say goodbye without her going all soft and sweet on me like this. Resolving to harden my heart against further assault, I slid from her embrace and stepped into my house.

Setting her bag down, I turned back to her. “You ready?”

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