Do I need a reason for being here?”
“I guess not. But I can take him tea and applesauce and avoid the whole discussion altogether.”
“You’ll be up there for an hour tending to his every need,” he said. “I’ll take him breakfast. You stay here and rest up for the next attempt. I’ll tell him you’re very busy with Judah.”
Judah sat up at the mention of his name, his look hopeful.
“And while the water’s heating up for tea, I’ll take our boy out to the back for a trip to the grass,” he added.
“Declan,” she sighed.
“Evie.” He mimicked her tone perfectly.
She smiled up at him, a lock of dark hair falling over one eye, her lips pink from all that kissing. “Is this how you’d take care of me if I was pregnant?”
“If? Think positive. Maybe you already are.”
“Nah, they’re still swimming around on an egg hunt.” She tapped her tummy. “You can do it, guys. It’s waitin’ for you.” She smiled up at him. “Like I’ve been waiting for you, Captain.”
He studied her for a moment, wanting to run his fingers through that hair, or brush his knuckles over her well-kissed mouth, or fold her into his arms and tell her that she would be the most pampered, protected, and loved expectant mother on earth. But he stared at her and let the moment wash over him. “I still can’t believe this.”
“That we’re trying to get pregnant?”
He traced a line along her jaw, careful not to move that strand of hair because it made her look so sexy. “That you forgave me,” he whispered. “That you trust me again.”
She closed her hand over his. “Don’t dwell on what wasn’t, Dec. Think about what’s going to be. Like how loud that bell upstairs is going to be ringing any minute.”
“On it. Wait for me. Do not move.”
“Bathroom?”
“In and out and back in bed so we can try one more time before your day explodes with activity.” After he pulled on his jeans and T-shirt, he bent over to kiss her again.
She fisted his T-shirt and pulled him closer. “By the way, Declan Joseph Mahoney, you have been working on your technique for twenty years.”
He gave a quick laugh. “Not that much.”
“Well, last night was a-freaking-mazing.”
“Hold that thought, E.” One last kiss. “I hear the bell.”
He didn’t even try to wipe the smile off his face when he walked into Max’s room, carrying a tray with hot tea and applesauce, a few minutes later.
“Room service,” he called out when he saw that Max was awake and sitting up.
“That’s a different delivery person,” the old man said, turning to catch sight of Declan. “What are you doing here at this hour?”
He zipped through his options and settled on Judah. “I wanted to—”
“Oh, never mind. I can see exactly what you’ve been up to.”
“You can?” He set the legs of the bed tray on the comforter, suddenly wondering if she’d left lipstick on him or, God, a hickey. Things had gotten a little wild in the middle of the night.
“She could have at least told you your shirt’s inside out.”
Declan choked a soft laugh, looking down to see the seam of his T-shirt. “My bad.”
Max gave him a fully toothless grin, reminding Declan of one of the Kilcannon babies. “No, you’re good.” He looked down at the tray, then back up at Declan. “Thank you.”
He nodded, uncertain if he was being thanked for breakfast…or how the shirt got inside out.
“Will you open my drapes?” Max asked. “And maybe stay a moment?”
As much as he wanted to get back to Evie, sympathy for the old man won out. “Sure.” Kneeling on the window seat, he slid the heavy curtains along the rod, letting morning light pour into the room. Turning, he perched on the edge, thinking how lonely it must be up here, especially without Judah.
“Your buddy Judah’s doing great,” he said. “The biggest challenge is keeping him from being too active.”
He nodded, spooning some of the applesauce. “He’s a good dog.”
“A great one.”
“He can live here with you and Evie.”
Declan blinked at him. “Wow, you have things more figured out than we do,” he confessed.
“I have it all figured out,” he said. “Me and the grandmothers. I might join their little matchmaking club.”
Declan chuckled at that. “Just what they need, encouragement.”
“That Greek one is nice-looking.” He sipped his tea. “Doesn’t mince words and plays a good game of gin rummy. And she makes a helluva cookie.”
Declan was pretty sure her grandson made those, but