Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

Jonas

I counted down to my weekend alone with Declan like it was my birthday and Christmas rolled into one. An entire weekend with the house all to ourselves? No need to walk on eggshells or pretend to be casual friends? All week, every time I'd think ahead to the weekend, my stomach would do a funny little quiver, and I'd have a burst of energy.

By Friday afternoon, I was only too happy to arrive home to discover Rowan lugging a big rolling suitcase out to Eric's SUV.

"Think you packed enough for two days?" I teased as I locked up my car.

"Maybe." Rowan took my question far too seriously. "I couldn't decide which shirt says boy-band lead better, so I packed five."

"The show is about a boy band?" If so, Rowan was indeed perfect for the part. He'd looked like a boy-band escapee for the past few years.

"Yes, and they all go to a regular high school, juggling fame, fortune, and fifteen-year-old super fans, all while trying to pass algebra." Rowan delivered the summary with all the solemnity of a State of the Union address.

"Sounds like a surefire hit."

"I hope so." Rowan shrugged as he closed the back of the SUV. "It's an Ambrose Sterling production, so it's bound to be good. However, Dad won't shut up about how college is the more secure choice."

"He loves you and wants you to be happy."

"Yeah, and if you love something, set it free," Rowan countered in a sing-song voice. I'd seen that quote on numerous motivational posters over the years, but it hit a little closer to the bone now. If I cared for Declan, did that by necessity mean letting him go? Encouraging him to get back to riding even if I was terrified of that outcome?

I wasn't sure, and I stood in the driveway thinking after Rowan retreated to the house to fetch Eric. Wren emerged a few minutes later wearing a heavy backpack and toting an enormous tray of deadly-looking plants.

"Well, I think that's everything." Wren bustled over to Sean's truck and lovingly set the plants on the floor of the backseat. "Thank goodness Sean's driving. I can't risk my experiments on the bus."

"Of course not." I helped Wren heft their backpack in next to the plants.

"Guard the kitchen in my absence." Eyes narrowing, Wren frowned.

"Eh?"

"While you were at work, Declan attempted cooking. I'm concerned."

"I'll keep an eye on him." I tried to sound detached and not like I intended to spend every spare minute with the guy.

Finally, Rowan and Eric departed for the airport while Sean, Denver, and Wren headed south to Salem, the state capital, for the science competition. Alone at last with Declan, I rapped gently on his cracked door.

"Come in." I opened the door the rest of the way to find him sprawled on his bed, petting Oz, with a gold mining reality show on the TV he'd finally agreed to. A neat line of paint samples danced on the wall next to the TV, with sketches of potential room decor below each sample.

"You're letting Rowan decorate?" I gestured at the wall.

"Possibly. He was so nervous about the audition that decorating seemed like a good distraction for him, so I asked him for paint suggestions. He kind of ran with it."

"He is a force of nature." My chest warmed over Declan caring about Rowan's nerves. "And what's this I hear about you cooking?"

"Ugh. The short one tattled on me." Declan laughed good-naturedly. "I made us the one thing I'm good at. Brownies with some add-ins. And despite Wren's clucking, they turned out fine and I cleaned up my mess."

"I didn't know you baked." I lounged against the doorway, enjoying simply looking at Declan. As usual, he wore loose sweatpants and a motocross-related hoodie, but his expressive face never failed to captivate me.

"Don't get your expectations up," he warned. "Mom always used to have an unused stash of baking mixes in the pantry, and with the long hours my sister and I were home alone as teens, I got good at making brownies and turning boxed cake mix into cupcakes. You can laugh, but I thought I'd make us a dessert for tonight."

"You did?" My pulse fluttered. "And I'm definitely not laughing."

"Well, it's our weekend alone. And Valentine's weekend as well. I thought about suggesting we go out to eat, but we probably don't want to risk being seen."

"Yeah," I agreed, but inside, I was conflicted. Declan had cared enough about the holiday to bake for me, but that closet door continued to loom large. "Staying in is probably our best bet."

"Yep." Sitting up, he grabbed his cane from next to the bed. Oz jumped to the floor and finally deigned me worthy of a greeting with a furry tail wag. Declan followed the dog to the doorway, but his greeting was a sly kiss and a smile. "This weekend is going to be epic. What goes with brownies with some caramel candies added?"

"Everything." I chuckled and kissed him back longer because we could. No one to catch us necking in the hallway. "My sweet tooth says brownies can be dinner, but let's see what we can make together."

We found some frozen cordon bleu chicken breasts and paired those with some twice-baked potatoes cooked at the same oven temperature. I was plotting to use the baking time for more kissing, but Declan got a call from someone related to his racing world.

I left him in the kitchen for privacy and busied myself setting the table. Eric kept the wine glasses and some prettier dishes in the china hutch, and I took the time to make the table look nice with candles and Declan's pan of brownies front and center.

"You made the table look great." Coming into the dining room, Declan hugged me from behind before setting his cane against one of the empty chairs.

"Well, you made the dessert." My cheeks heated. Maybe the candles were too much. Too romantic for what this was. I couldn't decipher Declan's guarded expression. "Everything okay on the phone?"

"Yeah." His loud huff said the opposite. "It's just my team wanting answers I don't have. The higher-ups didn't like the answers from the doctors, so they asked my mechanic to call me on the pretext of checking in. Good guy, but he grilled me about how I'm doing. And fuck, I wish I knew."

"I'm sorry." I stepped closer so I could hug him.

"Not your fault my stupid brain won't cooperate." He dodged my arms, instead stalking toward the living room without his cane. I grabbed the cane and followed behind him, stopping when he stooped to pick up a small brown box. "And I don't want to ruin our weekend with racing talk. I got you something. It's not wrapped."

"I don't care about wrapping." I grinned as I traded him the cane for the box. "You got me a present. That's special."

Declan sucked his lower lip in as he moved his hands restlessly. "Fair warning, it's kind of dorky."

I opened the book to reveal the first three books in the vicar series, each hardbound with limited edition covers and illustrations.

"Our series?" I struggled to keep my tone light as my eyes burned and my hands shook at his thoughtfulness.

"Eh. Figured you might want something other than the e-books eventually. And more snow is on the way. Figured we could read all weekend. Heck, we can hang out naked all tomorrow if we want."

"I have to cover a nurse practitioner shift." I groaned because I should have told him the second I'd walked in, but I hadn't wanted to ruin our happy little bubble with the ongoing hospital staffing problems, especially now that Judy had celebrated her last day. "But I should be back by dinner?—"

"Whatever." Declan waved a hand and forced a ghost of a smile. "It's okay."

"No, it's not." I hated how matter-of-fact he was, and I hated myself that much more for not saying no when I'd been asked earlier in the day.

"I'm used to it." He shrugged. "I'm the latchkey kid of a firefighter and professor. I'm well used to work coming first."

"Doesn't make it right."

"It is what it is." He limped back to the dining room, leaning heavily on his cane. "Let's eat. I don't want to ruin your efforts with the table."

"Or yours with the brownies." I came up behind him at the doorway to the kitchen, and this time, he allowed the hug. "I'm sorry, Declan. Really. And I appreciate you and your efforts more than you can know."

"Ditto." He spun in my arms to offer a sad, sleepy kiss before we rescued the food. We both seemed to make an attempt to keep the dinner conversation light. Funny enough, we spent most of the time sharing stories about others—the teens, Declan's family, my friends, etc. And we very carefully avoided heavier topics like Declan's phone call or my work, but even so, Declan rubbed his temples as we cleared the dinner plates.

"Headache tonight?"

"Yeah." Sighing, he let his head fall onto my shoulder. "No idea what triggered it either."

I had an idea, but I also didn't want to point out the obvious.

"Come on," I said instead, taking his hand and leading him back to the living room. "To the couch with you."

"Are we making a blanket fort?" He managed a small smile. "The kids will be jealous."

"Let them." I kissed his head as I urged him to sit on the couch. "And simply cuddling in here on the couch is enough of a novelty."

"True."

"But we can add some couch blankets." I tossed a few fleecy throws in his direction. "And we can keep the lights low. I'll turn on the fireplace."

"This is cozy," Declan said a short time later after I had the gas fireplace going. We'd stripped down to our boxers and were cuddled together under the stack of blankets. The couch had a matching ottoman and chaise on one end, and we shared that space along with the ottoman. Our legs tangled as we reclined together. "The fireplace is almost pretty enough to make me forget about my head."

"Need your meds?" I shifted slightly, but Declan yanked me back down beside him.

"Nope. None of the different meds I've tried help much. I'm so sick of this."

"I know." I petted his silky hair and arranged us so he was mainly resting on me. Simply being cuddled like this in front of the fire was a top-ten experience for me, and we hadn't even cracked the new books yet. "I wish things were better for you and that you had the sort of improvement you want."

"Me too." Declan slumped against me, wrapping my arms tighter around him like an additional blanket. "I was so mad when Joey called earlier. I don't have answers for the team. Or me. But then, here with you like this, I'm not as angry about the delay in getting back out there."

"Here is a pretty good place to be," I agreed, trying not to dwell on how fleeting this moment in time likely was.

"Can I ask you something personal?" Declan turned slightly to gaze up at me. "How did you move on after your family kicked you out? Like, you're not a bitter person now. But in your shoes, I think I'd die mad. How do you start your whole life over without letting the anger win?"

"I didn't have much choice." I exhaled hard. This was something I'd thought about a lot over the years. "But more to your point about being bitter, that part is more of a choice. I could have easily been bitter. Or let sadness win."

"Sadness is almost worse than anger," he whispered in a pained voice I felt down to my soul. "It feels miserable, like wearing wet sneakers all day. And there's absolutely nothing to be done for it."

"But there is," I countered, snuggling him even closer, like I alone could keep him warm from the world's chill. "You can move on. It's not easy, especially when the loss is huge."

"And not your fault." Declan sounded righteously enraged. After his accident, several motocross commenters had remarked on what a fluke the crash was. One wrong rut, no one's fault, especially not Declan's. And he seemed to have transferred that to anger on my behalf. "Your family should be miserable, not you."

"But I'm not miserable. That's what I'm trying to say. Sometimes bad things happen that aren't our fault, but moving on, that's a choice." I paused, but Declan didn't say anything, merely continuing to glower like he was ready to do battle with problematic birth families and the realities of motorcycle racing. "I moved on with my life, literally picking up and leaving the state. I could have continued to try to stay in contact, to be a part of my family's world, but that wouldn't have been healthy for me. Instead, I tried to find a life here that would give me new meaning and joy."

"What if racing is the only thing that brings me joy?" Declan scrubbed at his eyes and didn't give me a chance to answer before he made a rude noise. "Gah. I'm tired of being a sad sack. Maybe I do need a hobby."

"Finding new sources of happiness isn't a bad idea." I tried not to sound condescending. Moving on was easy to say and hard to do. "Isn't there anything else that makes you at least a little happy?"

"You." Declan gave me a stubborn stare that dared me to object. "Being with you, reading, cuddling, touching, all that. I'm happy here. But I can't stay here forever."

"You could." I stroked his shoulders and neck. Give me a star, a lucky penny, a wishing well. Something. Because if I could ask the universe for one thing, it would be exactly that. But he didn't need my heaviness right then, so I forced a chuckle. "I mean, eventually, we might get hungry or need to pee."

"Screw reality." Declan yanked me down so we were almost face to face. "Kiss me."