Page 43 of Destined Lovers

He eyes me again, but there isn’t anything else I can do. I’m a terrible liar, and I’m running short on time. I need to get out of here before I dig myself an even deeper hole.

I say my goodbyes, tell Bennett I’ll see him for our weekly meeting breakfast next week, and I get the hell out of there quick as I can.

As I pull up to the house, a fancy, new-looking Range Rover I don’t recognize is parked next to Agnes’s, and I can only assume it’s Declan’s.An hour early.

I walk into the house and hear him and Agnes laughing up a storm in the kitchen. I peek around the corner to spy on them, and I first see Declan.

He’s comfortably leaning back in the chair with his long thick legs stretched out while his tanned, muscular arms are crossed in front of his chest. His chiseled jaw is covered with a trim beard, slightly longer than it was for Christmas, and his unruly hair is parted in a way it slightly falls in front of those deep chocolate colored eyes.

Declan has always had that effortlessly cool look going on. Laid back with enough style to make him look like he knew what he was doing.

For me, it was always the tattoos. I never cared about his muscles or clothes. The tattoos always put me over the edge—they’re fecking hot.

He rubs his chin and smiles at Agnes while she tells him an animated story, thanks her as she places plates of food in front of him, and continues chatting like old friends.

“So was Maeve surprised with her Christmas present?”

“She was thrilled, Agnes. I can’t wait for her to move to London and live with me. I’ve been dreaming about this for a long time,” Declan replies happily before taking a bite of some homemade soda bread.

I look over to Agnes, and she’s smiling warmly in Declan’s direction.

The two of them really do get on well, and I can tell she’s impressed that he’s moving Maeve in with him.

It’s one thing to move your younger sister into your bachelor pad, but to take on the responsibility of caring for someone with a disability who needs help around the clock in almost every capacity is a quality that makes Declan the best person I’ve ever known.

I step into the kitchen, breaking up the party. “You’re here early,” I murmur.

He lifts his head and, with no shame, lets his eyes roam over my body. I stand suddenly frozen, watching his eyes darken to molten.

I think I hear his breath hitch, and my heartbeat races at the idea that I affect him as much as he does to me. I don’t understand it, but my body clearly does.

He holds my stare, winks, and slowly smiles around his bread.

“He’s not here for you. I invited him to hang out with me before the two of you left.”

“Of course you did.” I shake my head playfully. I knew she was going to love this man the second they met.Who wouldn’t?

“I need to finish packing. I’ll be back.”

“Hey!” Declan calls and grabs my hand as I walk past.

“Where’s my hello kiss?” he mumbles, unashamedly right in front of Agnes.

I stand there, shocked for a second. I think about refusing, except let’s face it, he won’t let me get away with that.

Before I can react, he pulls me in toward him, making the decision easier for me. I lean down to kiss his cheek, but he moves his lips to mine, kissing me softly.

“Hi, Pip,” he whispers against me. Goose bumps spread over my body from the tickle of his lips, and neither of us moves apart.

He leans closer, so he can whisper in my ear. “Don’t try giving me one of those cheek kisses. Now that I’ve tasted you again, I don’t want it any other way. Your lips were made for mine.”

I gulp down my excitement.

“Yes, sir,” I playfully whisper back and watch as his eyes dilate and he clenches his jaw.

“Pack now. We need to leave.” He snaps, leaving no room for argument.

I smirk, knowing my effect on him, and skip away to happily pack when he’s sitting there turned on and tortured talking to Agnes.

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