Page 56 of Huckleberry Hill
“Thanks,” I mumbled.
He held my jacket up to me, silently offering aid. I shoved my arms into the sleeves. My coat slid on, but Declan didn’t let go. Instead, he stepped behind me, reached down and zipped it up for me.
“Hadley, look at me.”
When I didn’t comply, he gently placed his hands on my shoulders and turned me to him.
“Declan, don’t,” I begged.
“Don’t what?” he asked, his voice husky, his hands grasping the collar of my jacket.
“Don’t look at me that way.”
“What way?”
“Like you want to kiss me.”
“I do want to kiss you.”
“You can’t.”
“Why not? You want me to kiss you. I can see it.”
“No, I don’t,” I lied.
He smiled.
“Declan,” I groaned.
He took a deep breath.
“What?” I demanded.
“Hearing you say my name like that . . . it’s giving me fantasies.”
“Well, stop.”
“Can’t.” The lights from the street and the building made him easy to see.
His gaze was intense, and he hadn’t let go of my coat.
“You work for my father,” I said, trying to reason with him.
He frowned.
“You work for my father,” I said again.
“I’m aware.” He cocked his head to the side. “Is that really the only reason you don’t want me to kiss you?”
“It’s a pretty big reason,” I said. “I don’t want you to get fired.”
“Thanks for thinking of my livelihood,” he drawled. “I like you, Hadley. And I know you like me, too.”
“We said we’d be friends,” I reminded him. “That’s all this can be, Declan. Please don’t make it harder.”
He stared at me for a moment and then released me. “Let me walk you to your car.”
“I drove the truck. I’m parked right there,” I said, pointing to the street spot outside the Copper Mule.
