A door opened as if on cue and a man poked his head into the hall, a scowl on his face. Declan looked in his direction and waved. “Sorry, man.”
Zoe made a frustrated sound and shoved the door shut. The chain jangled against the surface as she unlocked it. Seconds later, dressed in silk boxers, a T-shirt, and pink, fluffy slippers, she waved him forward.
In all his life, Declan couldn’t remember ever thinking fluffy slippers to be sexy, but on Zoe, they somehow managed to shoot fire through his veins. Or maybe it was the long slender legs attached.
Crossing her arms in front of her chest, she stared at him, making it clear that he wasn’t getting past the hallway. “Talk and leave.”
“I’m sorry,” he said softly, his eyes finding her hard ones. There was no give to her look. No forgiveness.
“I appreciate that,” she said in a voice that said she really didn’t, “but let’s just take this as a sign. We weren’t meant to go beyond one night.”
He shook his head. “You’re not even going to listen to what happened, are you?” “You said you’re sorry. I get that. I don’t need a detailed playback of events.” “Even if I have a good reason?”
“I’m sure you do,” she said, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Suddenly, Declan didn’t have this battle in him. He wanted to grab her and kiss her
or get the hell out of here. Before he could talk himself out of it, he turned and headed to the door. She’d already decided he was guilty. Of what he didn’t know. Why her contempt hurt so badly he didn’t understand. Maybe because he was raw inside over his parents. Lost even. Everything felt like it was crashing to the ground.
He reached for the doorknob when he heard her voice. “Why?” she asked.
Declan let his forehead rest against the wood panel. He wasn’t sure what she was asking. Why had he been late? Why had he come here? Or maybe why had he called so late?
Without turning, he answered, forgetting anything but what he came here to say. “My mother showed up at my door as I was leaving.” He paused, thinking about the moment he’d opened the door and found her there. “She left my father. After thirty-seven years, she left him and… I didn’t even know anything was wrong.”
Several seconds passed and Declan squeezed the knob, feeling his stomach clench. For some reason, Zoe accepting his words, and allowing him back into her world, mattered in ways beyond the moment. He needed her. Whatever she’d made him feel that night they’d shared, he wanted to wrap himself in it and forget.
To get lost in Zoe and what she made him feel. To forget everything else.
The soft touch of her hand on his arm made his heart kick up a beat and his breath lodge in his throat. Without words, he felt her understanding. Slowly, he turned to face her, looking down into her forgiving eyes, not even trying to hide the pain in his. He didn’t care if she saw. Maybe he should but he didn’t.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I should have listened.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “I should have called sooner but—”
She pushed up on her toes and pressed a finger to his lips. “Shh. I understand.” For a beat, then two, they stared at each other. Slowly, he relaxed, taking the comfort she meant to offer and letting it ease into his mind and body. “Come,” she said, sliding her hand around his.
Declan followed her into the living room. It was clear she’d been awake. The television played on low. A glass of wine sat on the coffee table. Beside it sat a half-eaten bag of popcorn.
They settled onto the couch side by side, bodies turned toward each other. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked, her voice low, and without any sign of probing. It was an offer, not a demand.
“What if I said I don’t?” he asked.
She smiled. “That’s okay, too.” Tilting her head, she studied him. “Are you hungry?”
He thought of the uneaten food he and his mother had left at the restaurant. “I took my mother to dinner but neither of us ate.”
“Where is she now?”
“I tried to get her to stay with me, but she insisted on going to her new apartment.” “Wow. She has an apartment already. That sounds pretty serious. She’s given this some thought.” A pause. “Sorry. I don’t mean to push. You said you didn’t want to
talk.”
He gave her a weak smile. “It’s okay.” Leaning back against the couch, Declan straightened his legs. Suddenly, he felt exhausted. A minute later, Zoe snuggled under his arm and draped her leg over his. The soft scent of her floral scent tickled his nose. He inhaled and pulled her closer. Warm and perfect, her body fit his like a glove, and his eyes drifted shut. For the first time in hours, he felt at peace…