Page 171 of Destined Lovers

Declan holds me tight to his chest and sways us around the kitchen in smooth rhythmic grace. I bury my head in his chest and let him lead. Every few seconds, he kisses my forehead, never breaking movement so we can silently dance to the words of Etta, thinking of my parents.

Every Sunday, my mam cooked a big Sunday roast. Declan would join when he was home from boarding school or Uni, and sometimes my granny and his would drive down.

Etta James or Frank Sinatra would always play through the house on Sundays while my mam cooked.

I can picture it so clearly. Her swaying her hips to the music as she peeled potatoes, my da coming up behind her to spin her around and dance. She would squeal in delight, pretending to be surprised, even though she knew he was there. He did it every single Sunday.

She once told me she could feel him when he was near because their souls were connected. I didn’t understand the meaning until it was too late to appreciate their relationship. I took for granted their unequivocal love. They were soulmates, destined to be together, like Declan and me.

“Are you okay?” Declan pulls back to wipe my tears with his thumb and pushes my hair away from my eyes. I hadn’t even realized I was crying.

We’ve slowed, but he still rocks us back and forth. “Aye, I was just thinking about how in love they were.” I smile sadly.

Life has been hectic, and I haven’t thought about them as much as I used to, making me feel guilty for living my life when they can’t. As screwed up as it sounds, I kind of miss my nightmares. It was the last memory I had of them, and even though it was horrific, all the same, it was a memory of them.

Since moving in with Declan, I’ve had only four nightmares, two of them the first month of being here. Which isn’t a surprise since it was a stressful time, dealing with moving, winning over Declan and Maeve, Agnes being sick, and the grief Bennett gave me for leaving Ireland. It was a lot.

Since then, I’ve only had two—one on my mam’s birthday and the other after a stressful call with my lawyer.

“They were in love. I remember it clearly, even as a young lad.” He proudly smiles down at me, “I promise to dance with you every Sunday to keep their memory and love alive, angel.”

I hang my head and bury it in his chest. It shouldn’t surprise me when Declan says something that throws me off kilter since it happens so often. Hot tears roll down my cheeks. “I’d like that,” I croak.

He holds me a second longer until the song ends and switches to his new favorite. “Cinema,” the same one we danced to atCharlotte’sback when I first met his friends.

At home, though, he only plays the acoustic version by Gary Go. It’s on repeat daily that I’m humming it subconsciously at any given time of the day.

“Okay, angel. Time for you to get ready. Our friends will be here soon.” He pats my behind to send me along.

I shake my head. “I have too much to finish.”

His face creases with an unfamiliar expression. He pauses, then hesitantly mutters, “Don’t be mad, but I hired extra help.” He takes a purposeful step back, probably terrified of the repercussions of going against my wishes.

He continues when I stay silent, “I didn’t want to have you stressed tonight. I would be happier if you were by my side celebrating with me, not stuck in the kitchen.”

A part of me wants to give him shite, but since it’s his birthday, I’ll let it pass, and it’s no secret now that I clearly need the help.

I kiss his neck on my tippy-toes. “Thank you. I need an hour to do mine and Maeve’s hair, and then I’ll be back down.”

I may have shocked him into silence with my amenability since he doesn’t say a word as I saunter off.

* * *

“Knock, knock,” I say as I enter Maeve’s room and her eyes widen, practically bulging as I walk in.

I cringe and wrinkle my nose. “Too much?”

Maeve shakes her head. “No… way.” Then presses a button to make a whistling noise, causing me to laugh.

My long skirt and heeled boots are modest, but my see-through black cropped top and dark green bralette might be a tad aggressive. But it’s my man’s birthday, and I know he’ll enjoy the show.

I crouch down to give Bacon lots of pets as he greets me with his favorite ball. “I thought you didn’t like that dress?” I ask Maeve, knowing she told Penny to put it in the back of her closet.

“Dec’s… b-birthday.” She shrugs.

I lean over and kiss her forehead. “You’re a good sister, Maeve.” Then kiss her forehead again.

Declan bought her a dress while they were shopping, and Maeve didn’t have the heart to tell him it wasn’t her style since he was excited to buy it for her.

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