Saving You -16-

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Chapter 16

                They didn't talk about the night before.

                Katelyn had wondered if they would, been curious as to what Declan would say about the events that had taken place. In her slightly groggy middle-of-the-night meeting with Mark, she hadn't really let herself think about it. Now, in the bright light of day, she was unable to think of anything else.

                That hadn't been sex. Technically, she knew it had, but something had passed between them. They'd made love. She'd heard that phrase before, read it in a couple of books, but had thought it was a myth simply created by desperate housewives so they could get other desperate housewives to feel validated through some sappy romance novels.

                Who would have guessed it was real? That she'd have felt exactly that way with Declan last night?

                It unsettled her. Since Ian, hell even before that, she'd known love and happy-ever-after wasn't for her. Ian had temporarily made her question that, but then he'd gone batshit and merely solidified what she'd already confirmed.

                Declan, however, was something she hadn't expected. Not even a little bit. It was new, it was terrifying, and yet part of it was exciting. But she couldn't handle it along with the knowledge that Ian was back to tormenting her.

                So when Declan woke her up with a tic-tac filled kiss that had her laughing even as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, and when all he said was, "I'm making pancakes," before he slapped her ass lightly and jumped out of bed, she should have been relieved. She should have been glad that he wasn't pushing her or trying to get all touchy-feely about the fact that they knew each other on a level of intimacy she'd never really experienced.

                Instead she was confused. Did he not want to talk about it? Was there even anything to talk about?

                Or was she reading too much into everything? Maybe she was the only one getting twisted up in knots over this. Maybe, to him, last night had been the same as any other night.

                She'd showered last night, the memory of Declan's gentle touch making her shiver slightly, so she located the over-night bag Mark had brought over and threw on some clean clothes.

                Thankfully Mark or Martin, or whoever had packed her bag, hadn't included her jeans or long-sleeves. The end of August should have been a sign for the world to start cooling down a little, but Texas never seemed to get that memo and continued with the late-ninety-degree days even at – she checked her phone quickly – only ten in the morning.

                As she dressed, trying to not to think too much about who had had to go through her underwear draw, the tell-tale smell of homemade pancakes began wafting through the house.

                Smiling slightly, Katelyn made her way to the kitchen. Declan didn't see her, focused on trying to not burn their breakfast, and she took a second to lean against the wall to watch him.

                He really was attractive. Maybe not classically, but there was a quality about him that drew people, drew her, in.

                She must have made a sound of some sort because he looked up at her. The smile he gave her was slow, easy.

                "Morning." His gaze raked over her, causing a small frown. "Wait, when did you get clothes?"

                "Mark stopped by this morning. You haven't checked your phone yet, have you?"

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