Deceive (Declan Reede: The Untold Story #2) (7 page)

She said it with such urgency there was no way I could refuse. As soon as the car was safely on the side of the road Alyssa ripped open her door and pulled open the back door to get to Phoebe but it was too late. A stream of milky vomit came pouring out of Phoebe’s mouth and down her front. The smell was wretched and a small part of my brain immediately worried about the state of the seats. It was just lucky that it wasn’t my car.

“Fuck!” I shouted as an instinctive reaction.

I climbed out of my seat too, pulling it forward to give more room in the back. Alyssa and I juggled our way through the vomit to pull Phoebe from the car seat.

“You help her, and I’ll see what I can do about cleaning this up,” I said. I pulled my shirt off and used it to soak up as much of the vomit as I could from the baby seat.

The floors could wait until we got back to Alyssa’s house, but I didn’t want Phoebe to have to ride the rest of the way home in a pool of sick. As Alyssa loaded a still wet, and quite miserable-looking, Phoebe back into the car seat, I wound down all the windows so that we’d be getting fresh air into the car because quite frankly the smell was making me feel utterly nauseous.

I smiled apologetically at Alyssa and she just shook her head slightly. I could have sworn she uttered the word, “Honestly,” under her breath.

A short, quiet, stinky ride later we were in front of Alyssa’s house. She ran to the door and unlocked it returning with half a dozen old towels. “You better clean the car out before it gets too dry. I’ll take care of Phoebe.”

I felt a little insulted that she wanted me to worry more about the car than I did about Phoebe, but ignored it because I knew she was a bit pissed at me for giving Phoebe that extra thickshake.

I cleaned the interior of the car as best I could, pulling the once lovely new car seat out and hosing it off. Then I dampened one of the towels, spotting it on the cloth seats to soak up the rest of the vomit. It took me close to half an hour to finish. When I was satisfied I’d cleaned up as much I could, I opened the car right up and left it to dry. I bundled the towels up, together with my vomit-soaked shirt, and took them back inside.

I stood waiting for Alyssa in the living room, feeling self-conscious because I didn’t have a shirt on. I could hear her down the hall, singing softly to Phoebe. Then I heard the song finish and Alyssa whisper, “I’ll be right outside if you need me.”

“Okay. I love you very much, Mummy,” Phoebe’s small voice called.

“I love you too, sweetie.”

Their simple, honest declarations of love warmed my heart but at the same time made me feel like an intruder in their home. I waited at the end of the hall as Alyssa walked out of Phoebe’s room, a soft smile of contentment on her lips. She stopped in the hallway when she saw me. Her eyes swept over me in a quick appraisal. “Oh God, Declan. I’m sorry. I completely forgot you used your shirt in the car. I’ll see if I can find you something to throw on while I wash yours.”

I nodded. “Do you want me to put these somewhere?” I held up the bundle of clothes.

“Just throw them in the basket and put your shirt in the washing machine—” She pointed to a door which I presumed housed the laundry. “—I’ll put a load on in a second. We’ll get your shirt washed and back on before you go home.” She laughed. “People might talk otherwise.”

“They’ll talk anyway, you realise.”

“Yeah. I know,” she said with a sad edge. No doubt she knew it better than I did.

I went into the room she pointed to and worked out which machine was the washing machine and I threw everything in. I was walking back to the living room when I heard a door shut and a slight gasp from behind me.

“Declan? Did you hurt yourself again?”

At first I thought she meant the fresh bruises on my ribs, but then her fingers traced the outline of the bandage that still covered the tattoo. I blushed. I hadn’t anticipated showing her quite yet. In fact, I had no idea how she’d take it.

“Um, no. I . . . ah . . . I . . .” My voice dropped to a whisper. “I got a tattoo.”

“You what?” she asked. “When?”

“Today. Did you want to see?” Her hands were still on my back and her skin felt too good so close. I needed a distraction and showing her my tattoo was perfect.

“Should I be scared? You didn’t do anything crazy did you?”

I laughed. “Besides get a tattoo in general? No.”

I felt her gently lifting the bandage and she gasped. Her hand came to rest on my shoulder, just beside where the horses now took pride of place on my back. She remained quiet behind me and I was worried it was the calm before the storm. I was so stupid—I didn’t even think about how Alyssa might feel about the work I’d had done. I was just so desperate to make something permanent in my life. A moment later, she pressed the edges of the bandage down once more, covering the tattoo.

When I turned slowly to see her face, to figure out what she was thinking, she had tears in her eyes and was chewing her lip. She looked seconds from losing it and I worried that maybe I’d overstepped some boundary I hadn’t known existed.

“Lys, are you all right?” I asked.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered. “Why did you do it?”

“I wanted a permanent reminder of my children.”

Alyssa dropped the shirt she was holding and fell against my chest, sobbing. I moved her over to the couch and sat with her, just holding her until her tears began to subside.

“Do you mind?” I asked her.

She shook her head. “Do you know how long I’ve waited and dreamed that one day you’d come back and say words like those?”

“You dreamed and waited for me to get a tattoo?” I knew it wasn’t what she meant, but I also understood that the moment needed a little levity.

She gave a half-laugh, half-sob. “No, you jerk. I—”

“I know, Lys. I’ve proven myself to be an arsehole a hundred times over. Let me prove that I can be the man you need me to be, yeah?”

Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. “Are you sure you’re not going to regret it?”

I wasn’t sure if she meant the tattoo or my promises, but either way the answer was the same. “Never. I only have one regret now.”

She didn’t ask what. I wondered whether it was because she knew it was leaving her, or because she was afraid it was something else.

“Was tonight okay?” I asked. I was afraid she would hate me for the disaster it had turned into.

“It was a start,” Alyssa replied through her tears. Then she shook her head and barked out a hard laugh. “Although, why did you give her that second thickshake?”

“A start is good?” I wanted to clarify.

“Yeah, a start is good. But it doesn’t make up for last night.”

“I know. It was stupid . . .
I
was stupid. I just—” I cut myself off because I knew there were no excuses to warrant what I’d done, not in Alyssa’s book. “I fucked up.”

“You did. But you also said some things I think I needed to hear.”

“Like?”

She shook her head. “I think that’s better left alone for now.”

More than anything, I wanted to know what she’d needed to hear, what it was that had put her in, not so much a good mood, but an accepting one. At least one which had given her a willingness to go along with my idea of a date.

“Lys.” I said her name in a quiet whisper, certain my next words would be a mistake but unwilling to deceive her any longer. “The Monaro isn’t in the shop for a tune-up.”

She pulled away from me with a frown.

“I didn’t mean to lie to you. I just didn’t know how to tell you the truth.”

“Which is?”

“There was an accident.”

She practically leapt to her feet, her eyes tracing my body and settling on the fresh black blemishes on my side. “Fuck, Declan. Those bruises? What happened?”

After her reaction, I almost regretted telling her the truth because I still had to admit the worst part. “I don’t remember.”

“You don’t remember?” She paced to the window before spinning back around to shout, “Jesus Christ, Declan, did you drive last night?”

Staring at my lap, mostly because I was unable to stand looking at the anger and disappointment in her eyes, I nodded.

Throwing her hands in the air, she covered the distance between us as her lecture started. “You could have killed someone, Dec. God, you could have killed yourself. How could you have been so stupid? I didn’t see a car last night. I thought you must have walked. Jesus Christ, if I’d thought you were driving, I would have driven you home. What if you’d killed someone?”

If it had been anyone else, I would have told them where to shove it, but I understood her anger was at least partially linked to her worry. “I know. God, I know it was stupid. And I don’t even know what happened. All I know is Flynn found me and—”

“Flynn? He knew about this?” She paced away from me again. “I spoke to him this morning and he didn’t say a damn thing about it even though he knew?”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Lys.” It was the moment to throw him under the bus if I wanted to. It was so tempting, if only to score a few points considering how many I’d probably lost with my err in judgment. Only, I couldn’t do that—to Alyssa. “I don’t think he meant to hurt you. He probably just didn’t want to make you unhappy.”

“Yeah, well, he didn’t do a very good job.” She slumped onto the couch beside me.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you either.”

Her eyes fluttered closed and a small exasperated sigh left her.

“I know there’s no excuse. I’m not going to try to make one. All I can do is promise it won’t happen again. You mean too much to me to fuck it up over something so stupid.”

We sat in silence. After a moment, another small sigh escaped her and she glanced up at me. “I just don’t know how many chances I can give you, Dec. Not with Phoebe around. I—I can’t let you hurt her.”

Her words were agony to hear, but strangely, I understood. If it was someone else hurting Alyssa or Phoebe, even accidentally, I would kick their arse. “At least one more?” I said, offering a small smile—the sort that usually got me anything I wanted.

Alyssa gave me a begrudging smile in reply. “Maybe
one
more.”

“I promise, no more fuck-ups.”

Despite the fact that she nodded and curled into me, I didn’t think I had her entirely convinced. The truth was I had no idea what Alyssa was thinking, but my mind raced with everything that had happened in the last few days. Ben’s assertions regarding Alyssa’s lease flooded into my mind and my heart raced at the thought that I could be losing my little family before I had a chance to win them back.

“Are you going to take Phoebe out of the country?” I asked. My voice came out in a choked whisper.

Alyssa pulled away and looked at me. “No. Why would you ask that?”

“You’re breaking your lease.” It came out in a more accusing tone than I’d anticipated.

Alyssa looked surprised. “Yeah. I told you I was offered a job.”

“Yeah, but you also told me you weren’t taking it.”

“No.”

My brow pulled together in a frown. It didn’t make any sense. She had told me exactly that.

“I told you that I wasn’t moving to London, not that I wasn’t taking the job.”

“What?”

She sighed. “You really don’t listen do you?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Pembletons offered me a job in their Sydney or London office. London’s just too far from my family. I’m moving to Sydney in February.”

With three sentences, my world flipped upside down. A smile beamed across my face at the thought. Alyssa was moving to Sydney. She would be close to me when it came time to return home. There would be no need to decide between Sydney and Alyssa.

When she moved, everything would be fucking right with the world.

CHAPTER SEVEN: CLUELESS

I COULDN’T WIPE the fucking smile off my face and I couldn’t believe my luck. Alyssa wasn’t leaving the country. She wasn’t taking Phoebe away. Better yet, Alyssa was wrapped in my arms. Even though it put excess pressure on my side, and hurt like a bitch, I couldn’t ask her to move. While she remained still, the pain in my side abated until it was bearable. Especially with her in my arms. Neither was she trying to shift away from me. The scent of her coconut skin cream was right under my nose; it smelled fucking terrific as she leaned into me.

It was exactly what I’d been missing for four years.

I was home.

She tucked her legs up underneath her and nestled into my shoulder. Her hair brushed across my chest as she nuzzled close to me. I didn’t know what Alyssa was thinking as her hand gently wrapped around my arm. Her touch felt so good. Peaceful.

I closed my eyes and blocked out the last four years, pretending none of it had happened. The formal was just yesterday and I never freaked out after it. We were just happy together and I’d never hurt her.

It was a nice fantasy.

We sat like that for a while. Half an hour or more passed before either of us dared to move. Silence emanated from Phoebe’s room so I assumed she was asleep, but I really didn’t fucking know.

Alyssa’s hand came up to her face as she wiped away the last of her tears. As she swept her cheek, her hand brushed across my chest. My abs tightened, and a fresh pain stabbed my ribs, but if I said anything I risked breaking whatever spell was keeping her in my arms.

When her skin stroked mine, it was soft and warm. An involuntary moan rose in my throat. Her touch was so perfect, eliciting a fresh wave of tension through my stomach and a flutter of nerves across my skin. Nothing I’d experienced had ever compared. Nothing
could
.

I opened my eyes and looked down at her. When our gazes locked, I saw she’d been staring at me. She gave me a small smile and played with the ends of her hair when she discovered she’d been caught. I smiled in response and ducked my head a little without thinking through the move.

Alyssa echoed my movement, tilting her head back and parting her lips. I grazed my own lips against hers and rested them there for a fraction of a second. It wasn’t quite a kiss, but our lips definitely met. I didn’t dare push it any further. Pulling apart, I rested my forehead against hers. With my eyes closed, I breathed in her presence. It was calming and soothing, and just perfect.

While my eyes were still closed, Alyssa made her move. Her tongue pushed forward and traced along my bottom lip. I groaned again, wondering if she knew exactly what she did to me. Opening my eyes, I was greeted by the lust dancing behind her gaze.

Every muscle in my body was primed and ready for action.

Every
muscle.

Taking my time, giving her the chance to stop me if she wanted, I slid my tongue forward to greet hers. Her eyes closed and it was her turn to moan. My arm moved from her waist to her hair and my fingers trailed it. I used the hold to guide her closer, drawing her to me until there was barely a breath between us. Her hands gripped my shoulders, the increased pressure sending a sharp ache down my side. A moan ripped from my lips, but the sound seemed to spur her on. I wondered whether she’d mistaken it for lust—I wasn’t game to tell her otherwise. The pain was bearable—just—and worth every second to be able to kiss her again.

With her hold on my shoulders, she gripped tighter, as if she couldn’t decide what she wanted. Like she was pushing me away even as she moved forward into the kiss.

I was seventeen again, with the images of the life Alyssa wanted in my head. University. Career. Marriage. Family. Only now, I wanted it too. I still wanted to race, but I’d proven that could be a career.

Maybe I didn’t have to choose; I could have it all. The thought raced through my mind, and sent a course of fresh desire rushing through my body.

There was a long road to walk, but I wanted to prove to Alyssa that I could do it. Which meant knowing when to slow down. Like right then. I was sore, bruised, and freshly tattooed. Alyssa still didn’t completely trust me. Nothing would be served by continuing down the path of seduction, even though I really wanted to. Sleeping with Alyssa so soon would only prove that I was an arse who couldn’t keep it in his pants.

Even as I battled to maintain control, my body reacted instinctively and my hands traced down to her neck. She pulled away from me but only to tilt her head up and issue a breathy sigh.

My lips moved to her exposed throat, tasting and sucking her smooth skin. Another wanton groan slipped past her lips. Her hands clasped my neck, pulling me closer still. A garbled cry at the fresh wave of agony down my side made it as far as my lips before disappearing against her skin. It was torturous, but I didn’t want it to stop.

My kisses reached her shoulder and I desperately wanted to keep going, to push the material out of the way and continue down to explore her breasts. With an effort worthy of a Bathurst win, I finally gathered up enough control to pull away from her. As I did, I sank back against the armrest, trying to put some distance between us.

Only, Alyssa followed my retreat.

Her torso twisted and stretched to lie on top of me. Her hands threaded into my hair and she pressed her lips to mine again. Before I could fight it, I was lying beneath her on the couch, her warm body resting between my legs and my hands positioned on the small of her back. It made my ribs ache, and my back burned where it was pressed into the couch, but I couldn’t ask her to stop because she might.

She was on top of me, in front of me, all around me. Despite the pain rolling over my body in waves, I couldn’t complain about a damned thing. Over the top of her thin dress, I drew small circles, tracing the tiny dimples near her tailbone. She pressed her hips forward, grinding lightly against mine.

“Oh, fuck,” I whispered into her mouth.

I grabbed at her hips, pulling them over mine, relishing the feel of the pressure. It was almost enough to take away the pain of my ribs. I had never wanted anything, or anyone, more than I wanted her in that moment.

“Shit, sorry, that must be painful,” she said as she pushed herself up so she was sitting on my lap. With a tender touch, she leaned over and, just like she had in London, kissed each of my ribs.

The part of me that was screaming resistance was getting smaller with every passing second, and with every swipe of Alyssa’s tongue against my skin. My fingers played at the hem of her dress. It would be so easy to pull it off. Then I’d be able to feel her skin against me once more. I’d see her in whatever underwear she was currently wearing.

Just the thought of it made me groan in anticipation. It had only been a few weeks since we’d been together in London, but it felt like years. Placing a hand on either side of her hips, I played my fingers upwards, inching her dress higher and higher.

A loud beeping sound broke the silence in the house. The noise wasn’t so unbearable that I couldn’t ignore it, but it was enough to distract Alyssa.

“Oh, shit,” she said, as she climbed off me.

Standing in front of me, she smoothed down her dress and ran her fingers through her hair. Her gaze shifted from my face to my crotch and back again. A moment later, blushing brightly, she walked off in the direction of the noise.

I stood quickly to follow her, adjusting myself to find some space in my pants as I went. As we passed the spot where she’d dropped the clean shirt earlier, she ducked down and picked it up before throwing it back to me, all without turning her head in my direction. I slid it on without a second thought. Obviously my bare chest was making her uncomfortable and that was the last thing I wanted.

It was only as I reached the laundry a split second behind her that the obvious question came to me.

“Why do you have a man’s shirt?” I asked, as she opened the machine lid.

Alyssa turned to look at me. “It’s Flynn’s,” she said, as if the question was absurd and the answer obvious.

“Why do you have Flynn’s shirt then?” I wondered whether the fucker made a regular habit of coming to her house and getting shirtless.

She rolled her eyes. “You’re kidding me aren’t you?”

“What?”

She reached into the washing machine to pull out the clothes. “You aren’t seriously still jealous of Flynn, are you?”

Am I
? In a way, I was. At least a little. Not because I thought the fucker was into Alyssa or was a threat to me in
that
way. But he had almost four years of Alyssa’s life that I’d never have.

He had three years with Phoebe that I’d never get back.

He was in their lives in ways I had never been—in all the ways I wanted to be now that I knew the truth. I wondered if he’d been there to experience all of Phoebe’s firsts. Had he held her hand and helped her with her first steps? I felt physically ill at the thought.

It should have been me. It would have if I’d just picked up the damn phone.

Wouldn’t it?

Before I got a chance to consider the answer to my own question, Alyssa huffed, bringing my attention back to her. “Seriously. You never listen properly do you?”

“What?” I expected to get a lecture about how Flynn was gay and there was nothing between them, so her next statement confused me.

“I said to put the towels in the basket and your shirt in the washing machine.”

“So?”

“What did you do?”

I thought about that. I’d come inside and . . .
fuck
. I’d just thrown everything in the washing machine. It was my turn to blush. “Sorry.”

She pulled out my shirt. It was covered in multicoloured fluff.

“What happened to
that
?” I asked.

“
Someone
put towels in the washing machine with it.”

“Oh.”

Shaking her head, Alyssa examined it. “It might be salvageable,” she said. Then she put my shirt into the dryer on its own. “Hopefully this will get rid of some of the pilling.” She cleaned some dust out of a cover on the front of the dryer and pressed some buttons to start it.

I was lost and wasn’t afraid to tell her so. “Thank you for this. I don’t know what I would have done otherwise. Probably left it for Mum to do in the morning.”

She laughed and shook her head. “You are pretty clueless about all things domestic, aren’t you?”

I put my arms out to her in apology. “I’m pretty clueless in lots of things. But I’m trying.”

She considered me for a minute, then nodded. “Yes, you are trying.” She stepped into my outstretched arms and wrapped her arms around my waist. It didn’t escape my attention that she was being careful not to put too much pressure on the bruises on my side.

I rested my cheek on the top of her head. My breath came in long, shaky gasps. I wanted her so badly. Just being near her was driving me crazy. I felt myself losing the semblance of control I’d finally achieved, and knew it would be a mistake to stay any longer. There would be no way I’d be able to resist turning on the charm and trying to get her into bed with me. The way her heart pounded against my chest as I held her tightly, I didn’t think it would be a massive challenge. I dropped my arms and stepped back.

“Alyssa, I’d better go.”

“Why?” She seemed shocked.

I tucked a loose strand of hair back behind her ear; she closed her eyes and sighed as our skin made contact When she looked back at me, her breathing as unsteady as mine, I smiled.

“That’s why. I don’t think we should . . .” I trailed off, sure the look in my eyes and straining crotch were enough to communicate to her what I didn’t think we should do. Even though I really,
really
wanted to.

She nodded. “No, we definitely shouldn’t,”—she bit her lip and her voice fell to a whisper—“at least not yet.”

I ducked down and our lips met in a chaste kiss.

“Can I see you tomorrow?” I asked. Then I added, “Only if you want to though.”

“Sure,” she breathed. “You’ll need to come back to get your shirt anyway.”

“Oh, and while I remember, are you free on Saturday?”

“Why?”

“I want to take you somewhere, just the two of us. Then I’d like us to go out on Sunday, as a family.”

She shook her head. “I’d like to, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to get a babysitter at such short notice.”

“Mum’s going to do it,” I said. Only after the words were out did I understand that it might sound like I’d been working behind her back. “That is, I asked her if she wouldn’t mind if no one else could.”

Alyssa looked shocked but didn’t say anything.

“What is it?”

“Your mum agreed to have Phoebe on a weekend?” she asked with a frown.

“Yeah. I mean I thought you said Phoebe went around there a bit, so I . . .” I trailed off. The look on her face worried me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d mind.”

“I don’t, as such. It’s just . . . your mum doesn’t usually watch Phoebe on weekends, that’s all.”