“Got it.” Declan closed his eyes, remembering the array of lighters on display.
“Hope that helps, son.” He pushed up to a stand.
No, it didn’t help. It made things worse. “Can I call you if I have any questions?”
“I’d rather you didn’t. I’m retired and would like to stay that way.” He threw Declan one more look. “Just don’t dig too deep. In my experience, the answer is right in front of you…if you want to see it.”
He nodded once, pulled the ball cap low, and walked off, leaving Declan staring up at Thaddeus himself.
He sat there for a long, long time, letting it all play out. Could Max have set that fire? Or was there a skilled arsonist? And was the fire inside the house the reason Dad had powered through to the sunroom and got trapped when the burning veranda above him collapsed?
Or was this just the ramblings of an eccentric old man who liked to find arson where there may have been none?
All he knew now was that this was keeping him from the one person he wanted to be with.
Not to mention that if Evie had any idea that he’d had a conversation like this—about her own family—it would break her heart. And God knew he was never going to do that again.
No. He was going to have a baby with her, and if everything went according to the plan he was still formulating, he was going to spend the rest of his life with her.
He’d already let this damn fire ruin half his life. He wasn’t going to let it ruin the rest.
Chapter Twenty-two
When six o’clock came and went, Evie started to wonder if Declan wasn’t going to show. But his delay gave her a chance to get Granddaddy situated for the night, then feed Judah and run him through a short rehab session.
With both her patients exhausted and in their respective beds, Evie showered, put on some makeup, and picked out a tank top and soft cotton skirt, taking more time selecting lace undies than the actual outfit. She’d made Declan’s favorite sandwich, opened wine, and lit candles on the farmhouse table in the kitchen, but it was after seven when she heard Declan’s truck door in the driveway.
Curious why he hadn’t texted he was on his way, she took her wine to the front door in time to see him climb out, grab a backpack, and take a minute to look up at the sky and sigh.
She stepped out onto the porch. “Are you having second thoughts, Captain?”
He turned, stared at her for a long moment, then let his gaze roam over her the way he used to that summer when they knew where they were headed, but didn’t know when or where.
“The only thoughts I’m having…” he said as he walked toward her, cracking that unhurried Mahoney smile. He reached her, took the wine, sipped it, then leaned over to kiss her. “Are kinda dirty.”
A sexy hot tendril curled around her insides. “I was starting to feel stood up.”
“I had…business.”
She searched his face, more because of his tone than what he’d said. “Everything okay?”
He studied her for a moment, sliding a hand under her jaw, giving her chills when his palm grazed her skin. “It is now.”
“I made us hoagies,” she said. “Your favorite Italian with extra cheese and no onions.” She led him into the house. “Are you hungry?”
He nodded, still sort of staring at her.
“Yeah, I’d call that hungry,” she joked. “Ravenous, in fact. So why don’t we—”
He stopped her with a kiss, hard and hot, wrapping his arm around her and drawing her into his body. “Food can wait,” he said. “I can’t. I honest to God cannot wait another minute for you, Evie.”
She folded against him, looking up. “Then don’t.”
He kissed her again while he closed and locked the door, then ushered her toward the back, somehow knowing exactly where they were going. He stopped to lean against a wall to intensify the kisses, his whole body so hard and powerful she felt like she was melting into the board-and-batten panels.
“Not bad for post-twenty-four-hour shift,” she murmured.
“And I didn’t sleep five minutes.” Tunneling his fingers into her hair, he lifted her head to get to her throat.
“A lot of calls?”
“Very few.”
“Then why didn’t you sleep?” she asked.
“’Cause I felt like a kid on Christmas Eve.” He glided a hand down her neck and slowly caressed her breast. “Presents waiting to…”
She bit her lip and looked up at him, dragging her hand down the front of his T-shirt. At the bottom, she let her fingers graze the button of his jeans. “Unwrap,” she finished for him.
He chuckled into the next kiss, his whole body responding against her. “Ho, ho, ho,” he teased, caressing her back and angling her hips against his. “It’s Christmas in October.”
She kissed him again, a whimper escaping as their tongues touched like the opening notes of a long, beautiful symphony.
Still holding each other, still kissing, he stepped her back like they were dancing. “Hope Judah sleeps heavy, or else…”
“He’s sound asleep. Come.” She walked him to the little suite of rooms behind the back stairs.
It was dark and got even darker when she closed the bedroom door, but she easily guided him to the bed. He set his backpack on the floor, very carefully, glancing at Judah.
“I don’t want to wake him,” he whispered.
“Listen to that dog snore,” she said. “He’s underwater-treadmill tired.”
He smiled. “It works?”
“Like a charm. Christine was mightily impressed. Do you need a light?” she asked.
“Only if you want me to find protection.”
She’d thought so much about this moment, this question, this issue. “How’s your health, Captain?”
“Flawless. Checked constantly. Yours?”
She gave a dry laugh. “I’ve been celibate since my last doctor’s appointment.”
With a moan, he leaned down and kissed her, guiding her to the bed. “Gotta change that situation, stat.”
“Yes, please.” She fell onto the comforter with him, wrapping her legs around him so her skirt
