Page 139 of Resting Beach Face
He checked his camera feeds every few hours, and at least once a night, I found him out walking the grounds. Sometimes, I joined him on the patrols, knowing it gave him a sense of control in an unpredictable situation.
But I worried about how long he could go on this way without burning out. He still had to work all day—at least until I finished out my last few shifts at the Swallow’s Nest—and I hadn’t seen him tend to his garden all week.
Hudson had given me rides home, staying long enough to have a beer and check in with Declan, so I knew I wasn’t the only one who worried.
Friday, the bed jostled me awake in the middle of the night. Declan sat on the edge of the mattress we’d placed on the bedroom floor of the Roost, fabric rustling as he kicked off his shoes and pants.
I reached for my phone, squinting at the display to read the time: 3:30 a.m.
“Hey,” I rasped. “It’s really late. Or should I say early?”
“Sorry.” Declan scrubbed a hand over his face. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”
“I don’t care about that. You need to rest.”
“I can’t relax,” he admitted. “Every time I close my eyes, I think, what if he’s out there right now? Then I check the cameras. Then I think, what if he’s just outside the range of the cameras?”
“Declan, there’s a possibility he won’t even come back.”
He groaned. “I know. I just can’t turn off my brain.”
I knelt behind him and wrapped my arms around his shoulders, hugging him from behind. “I’m worried about you.”
“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “This shouldn’t be your problem.”
I drew back. “Are you kidding? This is my life too, right? I may not own the B&B, but you said?—”
He turned and kissed the protest from my lips. “Yes, of course. I’m sorry, love. I just hate that this is infecting your life, too.”
I smoothed his hair back from his face. “I signed up for this, Dec. There’s no other place I want to be.”
“That means a lot.”
“Good. Lie down. You’re going to stay in this bed and rest, even if I have to tie you down.”
He chuckled. “I’m not into that kinky shit.”
I guided him down to the mattress, wrapping an arm around him so he couldn’t sneak off on me.
“You’re not too old for a spanking, so don’t push it.”
He remained still, but he practically vibrated the whole dang bed with tension. I rubbed his shoulders. Damn, they were tight and hard as a rock. I kneaded until his flesh warmed and his muscles softened, then slowly made my way down his back.
When I squeezed his glutes, he startled.
“Shh, relax.” I moved my hands to his thighs, working his quads and hamstrings. “I’m not trying to dick you down.”
His laugh was heavy and slurred. “Might not even notice if you did. So tired.”
“I know, sweetheart. Just close those eyes. I’ll check the cameras for you, okay?”
“Mm.”
He exhaled, body slack and heavy, and finally slept.
And that’s when the camera alert finally went off. I lunged for the phone, checking the stream, and sure enough, there was a truck passing by the camera at the entryway.
It would drive right by the Tree Hut, so I grabbed my phone and called Gray.
