Page 146 of Huckleberry Hill
He swallowed but didn’t smile. “You know what he said to me?”
I shook my head.
“I asked him about you being—being infertile. Fuck, I feel like I didn’t even give you the right reaction to that. We just glossed right over it. I know it’s tearing you up inside. I know how much you wanted a family of your own.”
“Declan said there are plenty of ways to make a family,” I said quietly.
Dad nodded. “That’s what he told me too. He told me that he only wants you to be happy. And he’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen. And I believe him. Not because he was drunk, but because I remembered meeting him for the first time before he ever even knew you existed. I had a good feeling about him. And my intuition has never let me down. It’s what made me propose to your mom so fast. And look what we made together. A beautiful life, and you girls.”
“I’m going to cry,” I warned.
“That’s okay,” he said with an endearing smile.
I burst into tears and reached for my father. He held me while I cried, patting my back like he did when I was little.
When my emotions had run their course, I pulled back and wiped my cheeks.
“Go on, now,” Dad said with a sigh. “Make sure he doesn’t choke on his own tongue.”
“Dad,” I said with a laugh.
“He’s not a drinker. He can’t hold his liquor for shit. It only took him three shots to get sloppy. That’s a good sign. He’s got a good head on his shoulders and he’s been solid as a rock since he’s been here.”
“So, we have your blessing?” I asked quietly.
“Would it matter if you didn’t?”
“No.” I smiled to take the sting out of it. I kissed his cheek. “Sleep well, Dad.”
“I will.”
I bit my lip as I stood up. He looked at me and waited.
“You’ve got a lot of life left in you, old man,” I said gently. “It would be a shame not to share it with someone. Just think about that, okay?”
He didn’t reply as I walked toward the front door. I slid into my outdoor slippers and grabbed my jacket. I knew the path to the cabin by heart and traversed it easily.
I walked up the porch steps and took off my slippers before going inside. I locked the door and turned off the main light—the lamp in the bedroom was on.
Standing in the doorway, I watched Declan, asleep on his back. His boots were still on. I crouched down and gently removed them and set them aside.
He was too heavy for me to lift so I left him in his jeans and shirt. I crawled into bed next to him and placed my hand on his head.
“Hadley,” he slurred.
I smiled, glad that even in a drunken delirium, he thought of me.
Me, and no one else.
“I’m here, cowboy,” I whispered.
“Love you,” he muttered before falling back to sleep.
“I love you too.”
“Fuck. My. Life.” Declan appeared in the living room, looking pale, disheveled, and downright terrible. “What time is it?”
“Eleven a.m.,” I said, taking a sip of my lukewarm coffee.
