Page 65 of The Wish List
At that moment, the doorbell rang, and she popped up off the sofa like she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
She hurried forward and threw open the door like she expected the disobedient daughter police to be on the other side.
Instead, Declan stood there in all his broad-shouldered, stormy-sea gaze glory.
“Is this a bad time?” he asked, thick brows drawing low over his eyes.
Beth shook her head. “No, why?”
He frowned. “You’re flushed and panting. Did I interrupt something?” He took an almost imperceptible step back. “If you tell me the ex-husband is here then—”
Beth stepped forward and kissed him, delighted when he let out a soft groan. “No one is here. I’m glad it’s you at the door.”
Well, anyone but her conscience calling, but he didn’t need to know that.
His strong hands cupped her elbows. “So you’re good?”
She took a quick internal inventory. “I’m good.”
“Anything you want to share?”
“Not at the moment.”
He looked vaguely disappointed, which was strange because she hadn’t told anyone but her sisters and her boss at the hospital about her plan for leaving. After a moment, his features gentled. “I brought Christmas.”
“Christmas cookies?” she asked hopefully.
“No,” he said with a grin. “I’ll remember that for next time.”
Next time. She liked the sound of that coming from this man. Since their first time together, he’d spent several nights at her house, but he only ever came over late, after a shift at the bar.
She wondered if that was because he wanted to keep their relationship—or whatever it might be called—from Shauna. Beth didn’t like being anyone’s secret, but she understood the sentiment. It wasn’t as if she were yearning to step out on Declan’s arm around town.
Or was she?
He bent to retrieve one of several large plastic tubs she hadn’t noticed sitting on her front porch. “You have no decorations, so I brought Christmas.” He wiggled his brows. “I even have the perfect Charlie Brown tree. I thought we could put up a few things so the town doesn’t call you out as the local grinch.”
Ouch. Okay, he’d probably meant the words as a joke, but the holidays typically made Beth feel like her heart might be a few sizes too small.
Right now, though, it seemed to be slamming against her ribs like an animal intent on escaping its cage. Whether that was from the adrenaline rush of making the actual commitment for school—taking a step toward life on her own—or from the way Declan made her feel when he looked at her like she was the most beautiful woman in the world, she couldn’t say.
“Where did you get the decorations?”
His eyes took on a hard glint. “I didn’t steal them if that’s what you’re thinking.”
She laughed. “Of course I wasn’t thinking you stole them.” Her smile faded as she realized he was serious. “Declan, I didn’t think you stole them. I just... It’s well... It’s very nice and unexpected.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “I’d like a do-over on this conversation, please. Let’s start again. Shauna has lots of decorations. More than she could use in one season. I know you’re not a big fan of the holidays, but you do so much for everyone else. I’d like to help you find the fun in the season.”
Beth smiled and nodded. “Come on in. I’m going to let you in on a little-known fact about me. When I was younger, my best friend from school had a tiny tree of her own that she decorated in her bedroom with wee ornaments her dad had made. I thought it was the coolest thing I’d ever seen. All I wanted was a tree of my own. Everything I had when I was younger was shared with Freya and then Trinity. Trin got things, including her own bedroom, because she was the baby. Mom figured it was easier for Freya and me to be together. Because we were so close in age and Freya was always taller, she got the new clothes. Plus, she always made such a fuss. I was never much of a fusser.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.” Declan placed one of the tubs on her dining room table.
“I sound petty,” Beth said with a nervous laugh. “Forget it.”
“Beth, it isn’t petty for a kid to want their own things. I spent a good portion of my childhood in foster care or trying to keep my mom’s junkie boyfriends from selling every possession we owned. Flynn and I were close in age, too, so we shared almost everything. When he aged out and I stayed in foster care, he gave me a baseball. It was his prized possession. I don’t know where he got it, but it was signed by Wade Boggs. In Boston, that’s a big deal. I guarded that ball with my life. It cost me a lot, but it meant the world that he shared it with me.”
Beth smiled. “Do you still have it?”
