Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

QUINN

Last night was my first full night of sleep in months. No nightmares. No tossing and turning. Not even that normal unease of sleeping somewhere new. I woke up feeling completely refreshed. Which, based on yesterday afternoon, is going to come in quite handy for trying to keep up with the massive amount of energy Fiona has.

Pulling my hair into a messy bun atop my head, I take a quick shower and throw on a pair of yoga shorts and a baggy tank top. After applying a few swipes of mascara, I head down the hall and am surprised to find both Declan and Fiona already awake.

"What do you want for breakfast this morning, a stóirín ?" Declan croons to Fiona, currently standing atop his bare feet in her Hello Kitty pajamas. Her giggles fill the apartment as he marches her through the kitchen. The sight of the two of them is unbelievably adorable— and so unlike the Declan I know— that I pause at the edge of the kitchen merely to watch the two of them.

"Waffles!" Fiona shouts her giggly response, causing a smile to spread across my face.

"Again?" Declan dramatically questions as he dips at the waist to pull Fiona into his arms. Peppering kisses across her face as she laughs even harder, he teases, "You're going to turn into a waffle, a stóirín ."

I'm pretty sure my ovaries just fluttered.

Fiona catches a glimpse of me over Declan's shoulder and boldly declares with a broad grin, "Quinn wants waffles too!"

Declan turns at the sound of my name as he places Fiona back on the floor. "Is that so?" He rakes his fingers through his graying morning bedhead as he stands until I'm met with his searing blue eyes and a sheepish smirk. "Is that what you want?"

Yup, they definitely fluttered.

" Y…yeah," I stammer, mentally trying to remind myself he's asking about the waffles.

I haven't had an inkling of a sexual thought— at least not a positive one —since the night the Bratva attacked me at the bar. Yet, the second I'm within arm's distance of Declan's rippled abs, my brain turns to mush, and it's the only thing I can seem to think about. This isn't exactly a new problem for me, though. My inability to think about anything else in his presence has plagued me since I was about sixteen.

Declan pulls various ingredients from the cabinets and plugs in the waffle maker. Awkwardly inching toward the counter, I ask, "Do you need any help?"

"Someone," he teasingly eyes Fiona, "has requested waffles every day this month. At this point, I could make them with my eyes closed."

Who is this man?

The Declan Evans I grew up with is egocentric and irritable. That didn't change as he got older. He actually became grumpier and more standoffish. Yet, inside the confines of this apartment— or at least when it comes to Fiona— he's the polar opposite.

Turning my attention from his to Fiona, I feign a gasp. "Every day? You really are going to turn into a waffle."

She erupts in a fit of giggles before saying, "You're silly. I can't turn into a waffle."

"What do you say, tomorrow, we give your dad a break from making waffles, and we surprise him with some muffins?" I ask, kneeling down to her level.

"Uh-huh!" She vigorously nods with wide, excited eyes. "Boo-berry ones."

"Blueberry it is, kiddo." I outstretch my hand to officially shake on our agreement. She slides her little hand into mine and enthusiastically shakes it. As I stand, Declan mouths the words thank you with an expression that would make anyone think I just saved his life.

The three of us spend breakfast making small talk. Fiona, who tells me in graphic detail about all the toys she plans to show me today, leads most of the conversation. After finishing the last bite of her breakfast, with her lips and chin sticky with syrup droplets, she shares her plans for our tea party and how much she wants to go to the park this afternoon.

"That's a big day you have planned for us." I smile at her over my cup of coffee, wondering how I will ever have the energy to keep up with her. "What are we doing at the park? Swings or slides?"

Declan glares at me for a second before gently informing Fiona, "You'll probably be too tired for the park with the big day you have planned." He wipes a little syrup from her face. "You're all sticky. Why don't you go wash your face and get dressed? I've put your clothes out on your bed. I'll come and give you some help if you need it."

Fiona stands from the table and carefully carries her dishes to the counter by the sink as Declan's displeased gaze falls on me. He stays silent until Fiona disappears down the hallway. "We need to discuss some rules." His voice is gruff, trying to hide his anger.

"Rules?"

"Yes, Quinn. Rules. Under no circumstances will you leave this apartment with my daughter without my permission," he grits. "And I would appreciate itif you didn't get her hopes up about things like going to the park."

There's the Declan I know.

"You can't be serious?" I feel my brows involuntarily pinch together in disbelief. "You want me to keep a three-year-old holed up in this apartment day in, day out?" While his place is massive, and there is plenty of room for her to run and expel her energy, that's no way for a kid to grow up.

"You have no idea how fucking serious I am," he huffs. "She is my fucking world, and it's the only way I can ensure no one will ever hurt her."

"Decla—"

"This isn't the time for your stubbornness, Quinn." He interrupts me. "This is not up for debate. If you can't do as I say, this will not work out. I will find some?—"

"Slides!" Fiona shouts, returning from her room. Her face is unwashed, but she is dressed. Even if her shirt is on backward. "We can race on the slides."

Feeling Declan's eyes on me, I force a huge smile and reply, "That sounds fun, kiddo," I pause briefly to shoot an annoyed glance at Declan. "Hopefully, we both won't be too tired from all the other fun you have planned for us today."

Declan pushes back his chair and stands from the table. " Daidi needs to get ready and head to work . " He gives Fiona akiss on the forehead. "Be a good girl for Quinn today."

"Yes, daidi ."

"I love you, a stóirín. " Declan stares at me for a moment after saying goodbye to her, and leaves without another word to me.