“Are you sure about this?” I peek over at Declan clutching onto the neck of the wine bottle with a steel grip.
“My answer hasn’t changed since you last asked me three minutes ago.” He looks up at my family’s apartment building with narrowed eyes.
I’ve never been ashamed of the neighborhood I grew up in. It might be a far cry from my father’s lavish lifestyle, but I was lucky to fall asleep knowing my mom and I were safe and happy without him. Growing up on a Chicago art teacher’s salary taught me to be thankful for what I have because there are plenty of kids who have it worse.
“Well, we better get this over with.” I lead Declan past the flickering lights of the entry hallway and toward the stairwell.
“No elevator?”
“Only if you want to wait for the fire department to rescue you.”
Compared to my heavy panting, he doesn’t seem the least bit winded after three flights of stairs.
“Charming place.” He assesses the peeling wallpaper and stained carpet with a critical eye.
“Don’t judge until you see the inside.”
“I’m overcome with anticipation,” he replies in a flat voice.
“Jerk.” I don’t know why his judgment bothers me as much as it does. It’s not like he ever minces his words, but would it kill him to be polite every now and then?
Probably. He couldn’t even spare five minutes before scaring poor Bethany off.
I grab the knocker and slam it against the door a bit harder than usual. We stand side by side, two stiff bodies unaccustomed to each other’s proximity. I swipe my damp palms down the sides of my dress. My nerves seem out of place compared to Declan’s cool indifference.
Nana swings the door open. She scans Declan from head to toe before turning her gaze toward me. “I now understand why you’re willing to work weekends and holidays for this man. If my boss had looked half as good as him, I would have never quit.”
I want to find the nearest sinkhole and jump inside of it. Declan’s usually empty gaze is missing, replaced by bright eyes so unlike him, I blink to make sure I’m not seeing things.
He finds this…funny?
Only because he feeds off people’s embarrassment.
“I’m Declan. Nice to meet you.” He holds out his palm.
“Nice to meet you too.” Nana speaks to the expensive bottle of wine. Declan offers it to her, and she disappears into the kitchen.
I look away. My chest shakes from withheld laughter.
“I see where you get your sparkling personality from.” The warmth from Declan’s body presses into me as he wraps an arm around my waist. Whatever humor quickly evaporates, replaced by the uneven beat of my heart.
Guess we are just faking it until we make it here.
Together, we walk inside the apartment. His hand moves from my hip to the small of my back. The way my body burns from his touch makes the gesture seem inappropriate. Not once over the years has Declan made a move to touch me. If anything, it’s almost as if he avoided every possible situation that would lead to us getting close enough to have skin-to-skin contact. Maybe that’s why I feel thrown off from a simple graze of his palm.
…Or maybe I’m suffering from side effects associated with the longest dry spell in Chicago. Only time will tell.
Mom pops her head out of the kitchen. “I’ll be out in a few minutes! Make yourself at home, Declan.” Mom’s cooking makes the whole apartment smell divine.
Declan looks around my childhood apartment in the same way one would analyze a museum exhibit. I’m sure his skin itches to find the nearest exit. Compared to his home, ours bursts with colors, fabrics, and photographs.
“This is where you grew up?” He pauses at each framed drawing I made for my mom when I was a kid.
“Spent most of my life here.”
He seems somewhat horrified by that fact as his eyes dart across a water stain.
I speak up. “Although the carpet was in better condition back then.”
“One could only hope.”
He picks up a frame of Mom, Nana, and me at my high school graduation. Tears stream down Mom’s face despite her wide smile. We weren’t sure if I would ever walk across that stage, but I overcame the challenges and persevered. It only took a repeated grade and hundreds of tutoring sessions to get there.
He assesses the photo in a way that makes me feel like I’m some kind of science experiment. My skin prickles with anticipation as I wait for him to say something. Anything really would suffice compared to his silence.
“I take it you three are close?”
“Depends on the day and if Nana took her meds that morning.”
“I heard that!” Nana yells back.
Declan’s eyes seem warmer than usual. “I can imagine growing up in a home like this came with its…perks.”
The way he says it with a scrunched-up nose makes me laugh.
“I never thought I would see the day when my daughter fell in love.” Mom cuts into our conversation.
Declan lets out a noise that can be classified as a laugh.
I glare at my mom. “You just love to embarrass me, don’t you?”
“You think this is embarrassing? I haven’t even offered to show Declan your baby album yet.”
“You wouldn’t.”
Mom only laughs. She wipes her palms across her apron before offering her hand to Declan. “It’s nice to meet you, Declan. I’ve heard so many good things about you.”
I point at Mom. “Don’t lie. It does scary things for his ego.”
Declan’s gaze swings between my mother and me before he grabs her hand. He gives it a firm shake. “The pleasure is all mine.”
It’s as if his grumbling in the car on our way here never happened. Asshole.
“Please come and sit. Can I get you a drink?”
We both sit on my mom’s retro couch. The flowers are grossly outdated and the complete opposite of Declan’s posh home, but it reminds me of Friday movie nights and Nana falling asleep to her Korean dramas.
“Water is fine.”
Mom looks sheepish. “Of course! I’ll get you a glass. I apologize for my mother’s manners earlier. She doesn’t leave the house often.”
“Only because you stole my driver’s license,” Nana offers from the kitchen.
“Excuse them. They must be suffering from a carbon monoxide leak or something. They’re not usually like this.”
Nana pops her head out of the kitchen. “Why lie to him? We’re always like this.”
I give Declan a reassuring pat on his thigh. “Welcome to my family.”
I pull my hand away, but Declan sweeps in and holds onto it. The warmth of his palm makes my hand burn.
Mom wags a finger at me. “Not yet. He needs to pass the Landry test before he’s officially inducted.”
Declan raises a brow.
“I hope you like spicy food.” Nana makes an appearance, sipping on her wine.
The three of us break out into laughter at the puzzled expression on Declan’s face.
Maybe tonight won’t be so bad after all.
“Are you okay?” I refill Declan’s water cup for the third time in twenty minutes. A damp layer of sweat covers his forehead, and his usually slicked-back hair sticks out in all different directions. He even removed his suit jacket.
The man never so much as removes his jacket, let alone rolls up his sleeves. I’ve tried my hardest to keep my eyes focused on everything above his neck, but the amount of vein porn happening has my eyes glued to his forearm like a homing beacon.
It should be illegal to hide arms like those beneath suits.
Hell, it should be illegal to have arms like those in the first place. They’re distracting to the general population.
The scrape of Declan’s fork against his plate fills the silence. He glares at the piece of spicy chicken like he wishes he could go back in time and wring the animal’s neck himself.
“So, Declan, when did you realize you were in love with my daughter?”
Declan releases the knife in his hand, and it clatters to the floor.
“Aw. You’re making him nervous.” Nana sips her wine to hide her smile.
These two and their interrogation skills. I’m lucky Declan has understanding people down to a science because I never withstood my family’s inquisitions growing up.
“I think part of me always knew she would be the one. It just took a while for the rest of my brain to catch up.” His eyes don’t meet mine.
I bite down on my tongue to keep myself from laughing. The way he can lie his way through anything is something to be admired. Although it does come off a bit jarring, it seems to do the trick. Mom’s entire body melts from his statement.
“Why did you hold back for so long?” Nana asks, not looking as enamored as my mom.
“It wasn’t the right time.”
Elusive as always. It will help him keep up with his web of lies.
Mom smiles. “Well, I’m surprised she gave you a chance. I’ve been trying to set her up with one of the teachers at my school but she always declines—”
“Because I wasn’t interested, obviously.” I nod my head in Declan’s direction.
He doesn’t so much as look at me. We will need to practice more of these interactions later because his delivery could use some work.
“Iris leaves a trail of broken hearts wherever she goes.” Nana raises her glass toward me like I unlocked some achievement.
“No, I don’t.” I grind my teeth together.
Nana feeds off my embarrassment. “Did you know her last boyfriend proposed to her and she rejected him?”
“Nana!”
“What? I just find it interesting that you are finally willing to settle down. What happened to swearing off men for the rest of your life?”
“Your ex proposed?” Declan’s eyes are lighter than usual.
I never admitted to him why I broke up with my ex a year ago. Declan probably thought we parted ways amicably, but the truth is Richard asked me to marry him.
I declined.
He cried.
I thought we were on the same page with everything. It was my fault for not noticing the signs soon enough. The key to his place. A spare toothbrush he left at my apartment. The way he seemed too enthusiastic to offer me an entire half of his dresser and closet—valuable space currency in Chicago.
After I broke his heart, I stopped dating. It wasn’t fair to lead men on if I wasn’t ready for commitment.
Yet you’re getting married to your boss, the small voice in my head whispers.
This is different. There are no preconceived notions or expectations. I’m simply doing this to help Declan achieve his goal, and once he does, I can move onto mine.
That’s what you’ve said for years.
“Poor man rented out a nice restaurant and everything for the occasion,” Mom adds.
“Ring in a glass of champagne?” Declan asks.
Mom nods. “Oh, yes. Iris nearly choked on it.”
I shoot her a withering glare.
“Rose petals on the table?”
“Yes!” Nana shouts. “Red. Her favorite.”
I hate cut flowers because I find them a waste of a perfectly good plant.
“Sounds like everything you love.” Declan’s gaze captures mine. What an asshole. “I wonder what went wrong.” His eyes shift back to my mom and grandma.
I despise the way he knows about everything I hate.
“I guess it wasn’t good enough because Iris over here flat-out rejected him,” Nana replies.
“How unfortunate.” Declan’s dry tone says everything words can’t.
He enjoys every single second of this.
This is not how dinner was supposed to go. My family was supposed to make Declan feel uncomfortable, not me.
“Unfortunate indeed.” Nana raises her glass in Declan’s direction. “Imagine if she had said yes.”
“With that kind of generic proposal, it’s a shocker that she didn’t.” He takes a sip of his water.
He doesn’t so much as flinch when I stomp on his loafer. I change warfare tactics by dragging my heel up his muscular calf, and I’m rewarded with his sharp inhale of breath. Heat pools in my belly, only to turn molten when Declan clutches onto my thigh.
Stop, his grip says.
Not until you drop the topic, my demure smile replies.
He gives my thigh one last squeeze before abandoning it altogether. The memory of his palm remains pressed into my skin, and I’m hit with a slight chill in his absence.
“Is now a good moment to tell you about the time Iris set a church on fire?” Mom grins.
“I can’t wait to hear about this one.” Declan doesn’t even try to hide the amusement in his voice.
I swear with the way my mom and Nana are acting, it’s as if they have never spoken to another human being before.
I sigh. It’s going to be a long night.
“I approve.” Mom grabs my coat out of the closet. Thankfully she kept that comment to herself until Declan went to use the bathroom before we left.
“You better after all the emotional trauma you put me through.”
She chuckles. “I hope he can forgive me for the chicken. He was only supposed to eat a few bites, but the man cleared his entire plate. I’m pretty sure I used a whole bottle of cayenne pepper this time.”
“I’m still bitter he beat your grandpa’s record. That man lost half of his taste buds after I made the chicken for him.”
“Do you think he knew it was a test?” I ask.
“He does now.” Declan walks toward me with a dark gaze.
Mom presses her lips together to hide her smile.
“To be fair, it really is a family tradition.” I hold up both my hands in submission.
“Any other traditions I should be aware of?”
“No,” the three of us reply at the same time.
Declan’s eyes narrow. “I’m having a hard time believing you three.”
“At least nothing too dangerous,” Nana offers.
His glare makes Nana and Mom break out into a fit of laughter.
“We’re leaving.” He tugs my coat out of my mother’s grasp. “Thank you for an interesting meal. I would say it was a pleasure, but I can’t feel half of my tongue.”
Nana cackles while Mom rocks back on her heels with a smile. She practically swoons as Declan helps me into my jacket before tugging my hair out from underneath the collar.
I nearly topple over in disbelief as Declan takes his time fixing each button for me. The smell of his cologne permeates my lungs, embedding itself into my memory. A strange temptation to lean in and take another sniff consumes me.
He’s doing such a good job convincing everyone around us that he cares, even I believe it for a second. He steps away, and the warmth of his body is replaced by a cold reality.
I liked him taking care of me.
The spices from the chicken must have destroyed part of my frontal lobe because there’s no way I could like that.
Right?
“So, was it as bad as you thought it would be?” It takes me a whole five minutes since we entered his car to muster up the courage to break the silence.
“The food was awful.”
I look out the window to avoid showing him my smile. “And?”
“And the company wasn’t too terrible. Although I could have done without being ambushed near the bathroom.”
I bite down on my cheek. “What did Nana say to you in private?” She all but bolted from the table once Declan got up to use the restroom.
“She threatened me.”
“No.” I muffle my laugh with my hand.
“In graphic detail.”
“What did you say?”
“What exactly is an appropriate reply for being told my intestines would make a nice winter scarf?”
“She’s been on a mafia kick lately.”
“That explains how she knew a lot about sulfuric acid and the different ways to dispose of a body.”
“I did try to warn you about my family. They’re a bit…”
“Overbearing?”
I nod. “They worry about me.”
“They have a good reason to.”
“Why?”
“You got engaged out of the blue to someone who isn’t exactly known to be the nicest man in Chicago.”
“Now, now. At least you’re not the worst.”
“I’m sure that really helps them sleep at night.”
The self-deprecating way he speaks of himself makes me sad.
“Does the great Declan Kane care about my family’s opinion of him?”
His eyes roll. “No. Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Maybe just a little bit?” I hold my two fingers up to his face, leaving a small gap of space.
He swats my hand away. “I stopped caring about people’s opinions of me a long time ago.”
I want to ask him why. Heck, I want to ask him a hundred questions after tonight, starting with what made him stop caring about what other people think of him in the first place. But asking personal questions seems like I’m giving him unspoken permission to do the same to me.
I hold back my tongue and stay silent for the rest of the ride. Being curious about Declan would only complicate things, so I’m better off keeping some distance. Living with each other is one thing, but sharing intimate details about one another is a completely different animal. Not that he wants me to know him on a personal level anyway. He has made his stance pretty clear on the matter, and I would be stupid to think this marriage was anything but a convenience for him.
