Page 55 of The Wish List
“You must get hit on a lot.”
They got into her car, and she turned to face him.
“Do we have to have this conversation?” he asked.
She nodded. “I think so. Before this goes any further I need to know...” She held up a hand. “It’s stupid. You don’t do relationships, and I don’t necessarily want one. Still, I don’t like the idea that I’m signing up as the umpteenth member of the Declan Murphy fan club.”
“Are you sure?” He leaned closer. “All the members get a secret decoder ring.”
She laughed despite herself. “You know what I mean.”
“I do, and I’m trying not to be offended by it. I’m not indiscriminate, Beth. I can’t tell you that I’m a monk, but it’s been a while. Meaningless sex lost its appeal at the same time hangovers did.”
It wasn’t fair of her to ask the question. He’d told her he didn’t do relationships. She’d told him she didn’t want one, so it was none of her business who else he slept with, but she liked that he was willing to answer. She liked the answer he gave.
She placed her hands on the front of his soft leather jacket and brushed her mouth against his. He let out a groan that made her lady parts want to cheer. To think that she could have this kind of effect on a man like Declan was far more intoxicating than any drink.
“What about your car?” she asked.
“I’ll get it in the morning,” he said against her mouth. He was going to spend the night with her, not just a few hours.
She slipped her tongue into his mouth, deepening the kiss, and he shuddered because of her.
“We should go before I forget my name, let alone how to drive.”
He leaned back and grinned at her. “I’d make sure you got home safe, no matter what.”
That’s exactly how he made her feel. Safe. So safe that when they got to her house, she didn’t hesitate. She took his hand and led him through the dark rooms to her bedroom. There was no need to turn on the light. The full moon would appear later that week. The glow from the window gave them all the light they needed.
It had been years since she’d been with a man other than Greg. And for them, sex became mixed up with making a baby. Declan was only about pleasure, and she intended to savor every moment.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“YOURNAILSAREso festive and cheery, Mom.”
Trinity’s heart lurched as her mother studied the manicure she’d just received. “Sparkle red,” May said slowly.
“Sparkly,” Trinity agreed. “Just like you, Mom.” Her visit to the rehab center had been spontaneous, but she was meeting Ash for dinner later and had been a bundle of nerves all day.
Beth was working, and Freya had driven to Raleigh to pick up tile for the new master bath, leaving Trinity alone with her thoughts—worries mainly. So many worries.
She’d received two calls on her prepaid cellphone in as many days with no one on the other end of the line and no caller ID. Most likely they were spam or a telemarketer who couldn’t get it together. If Dave was going to track her down, she had a feeling he would have done it by now.
She’d become convinced that her ex-boyfriend, controlling and manipulative as he was, had moved on from their relationship. Dave had never been much for hard work, and Trinity made things easy for him during their time together. She’d made herself small and afraid so he could feel big and strong. There was no strength in a man who was willing to hurt a woman.
It had taken a long time and a backbone she hadn’t realized she possessed to come to that realization. She placed a hand on her belly. Going back now wasn’t an option, whether Dave found her or not.
A couple of hours in the peace and relative quiet of her mother’s room relaxed her. May had been napping when Trinity first arrived, so she’d pulled out Freya’s new manuscript. She sat in the lounge chair next to the bed, reading and feeling not so alone.
Although Trinity couldn’t understand why, it had taken quite a bit of cajoling to convince Freya to share the updated book. Freya was an amazing writer. Trinity had been immediately sucked into the gritty yet optimistic narrative of an aspiring actress navigating the rough waters of Hollywood. There were twists and turns she hadn’t seen coming as the story progressed.
The book needed to be seen by more people than Trinity, although Freya had sworn her to secrecy. Not even Beth had a copy.
“Why you sad?” May asked as she reached out and patted Trinity’s arm. “Don’t be sad, Trinny.”
Trinity sat up straighter, unsure how to respond to her mother’s question. May’s ability to speak coherently was returning, but it remained odd to hear her express concern about the emotional well-being of any of her daughters. It just wasn’t like May.
Trinity remembered how many times as a kid she’d wanted her mother to worry about her or take an active role in her life. Trinity might have been the sunny Carlyle sister, but all of that optimism had come with immense effort. Yes, she chose to look on the bright side, but that didn’t mean there were never storm clouds in her life.
