Page 23 of His to Protect

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A shiver rolled through me when the quiet latch of the sliding door disengaged and opened.

I sensed Declan step outside and felt his body lower down until he was crouched low, next to me.

When I turned my neck, resting my cheek on my knees, he was squatting down, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together, looking out at the yard where Boomer was trying to catch the bugs that flew near the solar lights around the fire pit area.

“I made a fool of myself in there.”

He said nothing, just watched my dog with a blank expression. The only indication he heard me was a slight tic in his jaw.

“It’s just a dog, Trina. And it was just an accident. No harm done.”

I thought of how I must have looked when I shoved Declan’s hand off Boomer’s neck, crazed about my animal because someone touched him. “I’ll leave if you want. You were kind to give me a place to crash, but I don’t know you or your friends, and it’s probably not smart—”

Without looking at me, Declan interrupted. “I’m going to be straight with you.”

I flinched and pushed myself to my feet. Declan mirrored my movement, taking a step to the side and putting that distance between us that I appreciated.

Was he aware he always seemed to give me more personal space than should be necessary?

“I’ve gathered from the faint tan line on your ring finger there”—he stopped and pointed to my left hand—“that you’re either married or very recently separated. I’m also guessing that the asshole who put that ring on your finger is responsible for the bruise on your cheek, and I’m willing to bet it wasn’t the first time he did that. But because of that, you need to know that I have never…would never…raise my hand to a woman or an animal. Especially over something as pointless as a dog being a dog, which means he might do something stupid. I wouldn’t do that, and my friends wouldn’t do that.

“I also wasn’t bullshitting you when I said you’re safe here, so if you want to fucking leave, I can’t stop you. But don’t do it because you’re afraid of being in these walls.

“Now, I’m going to go blow shit up with Derrick on the PS4. You’re welcome to join us or watch. If not, you can go take a bath or a shower and relax, or do whatever the hell else it is you do when you want to just chill out.”

Chill out.

I couldn’t remember the last time I did that.

And a bath sounded heavenly.

Still, I found myself saying none of that. Instead, my mouth moved before my brain could catch up and I blurted, “You swear a lot.”

My mouth dropped open, awareness that I’d just corrected him hitting me. Kevin wouldn’t stand for that, and I stepped back, bracing myself, when Declan smiled. If he saw me flinch, he chose to ignore it.

“Yeah, babe, I do. Probably a fuck of a lot more than I should, but I gotta be honest. If my mom hasn’t broken me, my brother, or my dad of that habit since the day I was born, the chances of it stopping now are about zero.”

He winked, and something warm blanketed my skin.

He was teasing me, or taking the time to explain something, and he had a point. I learned the hard way men didn’t change no matter how badly you wanted them to.

Still, I had another brain-to-mouth malfunction when I suggested, “You could start a swear jar. Especially when Derrick is here, since even Aidan says he doesn’t want you cursing around him.”

He threw his head back and laughed.

The sound was rich and deep, and that warm blanket wrapped around my skin, heating me further, in a way I hadn’t experienced in possibly ever. I looked away, afraid he’d see me blushing. He just shook his head and walked away.

“You want to start me a swear jar while you’re here, go for it. I’ll do one better,” he said and looked at me over his shoulder in the doorway. The light from inside the house hit his face, making him seem bright. “All the money you collect, you can take with you when you fucking leave.”

My lips twitched when I realized what he’d done. “That will cost you a dollar.”

“No shit?”

“That’s two,” I whispered, feeling my lips stretch in a smile. It was genuine and real and felt foreign on my own skin.

“Well, hell,” he said and turned to walk away. “I’ll need to hit the damn ATM tomorrow.”

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