Page 111 of Huckleberry Hill
“You were sniffing my hoodie. Don’t bother denying it.”
“I wasn’t gonna deny it,” I lied.
He took my hand.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“The couch.”
“Oh.”
“Oh?” he asked. “What’s that mean?”
“I mean, I guess if we went to your bed we wouldn’t talk. On second thought, let’s go to your bed.”
“Hadley.”
“Declan.”
“You like me.”
“I do,” I admitted.
“And you weren’t expecting to like anyone so soon after your breakup.”
“Correct,” I agreed.
“But you do. And I like you back, and I’m not bullshitting you.”
I frowned. “I never thought you were bullshitting me.”
“Maybe not, but that doesn’t mean you trust me or my intentions.” When I didn’t reply, he went on, “If I wanted to get my rocks off, I didn’t have to do it with the daughter of my employer where my job is at stake.”
“Yeah, I guess I never thought of it that way.” I bit my lip. “We don’t have to overcomplicate things. We could just end it before my dad gets home?—”
“No,” he said flatly.
“But it would be so much easier if?—”
“Tell you what,” he said. “We’ve got a few more days until your dad gets home. Let’s enjoy our time together until then. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Now, come to bed with me.”
“True or false,” Declan whispered as he curled around me, our naked bodies pressed together. “You hated when I showed up at the bar.”
“False,” I murmured.” Our hands were linked, and I held them to my chest.
“You hated that I hauled you over my shoulder.”
“False.” I leaned down and brushed a kiss to the back of his hand. “Hmm, you’re like a warm snickerdoodle right out of the oven.”
He chuckled, the rumble from his chest vibrating against my back. “Is that your new nickname for me?”
“Snickerdoodle? Yeah, I think it might be.” I sniggered. “I’m going to get so much shit from Wade, though.”
“Because I carted you out of the bar like a Neanderthal?”
