Page 58 of Declan's Hope

"It’s late and she’s done," Declan had said louder. The eager young reporter had lowered the microphone he’d had shoved in Hope’s face, then whipped toward him.

"Excuse me," he’d said, then, "Why’s my camera off?"

"Because I told him to turn it off."

The reporter had looked Declan up and down with a grimace. At least he’d had the foresight to strip off his gear, leaving only his black pants and a t-shirt before the circus. So to anyone noticing him, he would be mistaken for any other civilian. "And who are you to make that kind of decision?"

Declan had then taken the steps necessary to lean way down and get in his face. "Her fiancé. And I’m taking her home."

The reporter had blanched as Hope had quickstepped away from the man and straight to Declan’s side where he’d hugged her close. She hadn’t denied his claim as he’d then led her away from the fuming reporter to where his truck had been parked. He’d need to thank Chance later for arranging to have the team’s vehicles delivered. It had made for an easier getaway.

Now, here he sat, hating the idea of disturbing his sleeping woman. But he couldn’t let her stay curled up in his truck all night.

It didn’t take him long to have Hope cradled in his arms while he managed to open the door leading into his house, before using his foot to close it behind him. He winced as it banged shut.

"What…" Hope stirred, lifting her head from his chest and wrapping her arms around his neck.

"It’s okay," he bent to her ear and whispered. "We’re home."

"Mm-kay." Her arms tightened. "Destiny?"

"She’s with Solace."

Her nod brushed over his chest. "Oh, okay," she said around a yawn.

He loved the comfortable weight of her in his arms and the way she snuggled into him as he carried her through to his bedroom—a bedroom that looked a damn sight better than it had when he’d left that morning. The lady that cleaned for him had been ecstatic he’d needed her ASAP to get his house in order. She’d been after him about it for weeks since the last time she’d tried to get him to let her take care of the mess.

"Mr. Declan," Lucy had groused, her finger shaking in his face. "You can’t live like this."

"I can," he’d said, gently urging her to back out of his front door. "And I will." With that, he’d slammed the door on her pinched expression. He was actually kind of surprised she’d agreed to show up.

He carefully laid Hope onto the freshly made bed, but couldn’t help his frown as he looked over her rumpled clothes as she curled onto her side. She’d been in the same outfit all day, and he doubted she would be comfortable sleeping in it. He could always…

He let out a low groan.

His body would like nothing more than to lie skin to skin with her all night. But come the morning, he didn’t see her appreciating him taking the decision of her getting naked out of her hands. He eyed her feet. Her shoes, on the other hand, was something he could take care of. So he slowly pulled them off, then quickly stripped out of his own clothes and grabbed a blanket from the closet.

"This isn’t my room," she mumbled, as he got into bed behind her and covered them both up. Then she flopped over and scooted up next to him. Her head landed on his chest before her low, "I thought you were taking me home," ended on a long sigh.

He grinned at her slight snore as he wrapped his arms around her and placed a soft kiss on the top of her head.

"You are home."

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