“Hey.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, seemingly…embarrassed? How odd. “How are you?”

She took a step toward him, shock and disbelief wearing off and being replaced by a hint of anger. And major frustration. “How am I? Um, what are you doing here?”

Oops. She sounded defensive. But damn it, she was sort of mad. And in shock. He couldn’t just pop back up at her work of all places, acting like they’ve been apart for all of a day or so. Though if she was the sort to keep count of days—and she really wasn’t, but she just so happened to know how long they’ve been apart—he’d been gone only five weeks instead of the promised six.

Five long, miserable Declanless weeks. She’d barely survived it. Had become very adept at convincing herself that they could never work out. That she’d been under some sort of magical Vegas spell that wore off quickly once real life intruded.

But here he was, standing in front of her, looking stressed and gorgeous and worried and sweet and it took everything within her not to throw herself at him.

“Yeah, about that. Production went so smoothly we wrapped early, which is unheard of. We worked ’round the clock, and filming was so intense I barely had a moment to myself. I literally finished work on the set two days ago. I needed a solid twenty-four hours to recover.” He flashed her a sheepish grin, running his hand through his hair and mussing it up even more than it already was. He was so adorable she wanted to both hug him and sock him in the gut for making her wait and yearn for him.

“So now you’re here,” she stated flatly. If he really wanted this to happen, he was going to have to work for it. At least a little bit.

“I’m here.” He threw his arms out, stretching them wide. “And I’m sorry. I should’ve called you. But everything was happening so fast and I told myself it would be worth the wait.”

“What if…what if I didn’t think it was worth the wait?” Reagan asked. “Did you ever think of that?”

His arms fell at his sides, his expression crestfallen. “I blew it, didn’t I? Shit. I should’ve called. I’m so sorry, baby. I got so damn wrapped up in everything, something I tend to do, and though it’s probably not right, it’s like I can’t help myself. I hope you can forgive me. I hope you can see that I’m here for you now. I want no one but you. You’re all I’ve thought about for these last five weeks.”

She crossed her arms in front of her chest, her heart thumping hard at his declaration. “Are you finished?”

“Uh. Yeah.” He clamped his mouth shut, his expression troubled. “I’ll go if you want me to,” he added quietly.

The man was ridiculous. Seriously. He was also—unbelievably—hers. “I don’t want you to go.”

“You don’t?” he asked hopefully.

“No.” She shook her head. “I’ve thought of nothing but you either these last five weeks. And I’ll admit I’ve been mad at you for not calling, but you’re here now.”

“And…” he prompted.

“And I’m glad.” She smiled. “Really glad.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Now, are you going to come over here and hug me or not?”

Declan ran to her, grabbing hold of her waist and pulling her into his arms. “I’m going to do more than hug you,” he murmured as he squeezed her tight, his head descending toward hers.

She smiled, her eyes sliding shut just as his mouth touched hers. “That’s what I was hoping,” she murmured against his lips.

The kiss was sweet at first. An exploration, a question.

Hi, you’re really happy to see me? his lips asked.

Oh my God, yes, quite doubting yourself and kiss me some more, hers answered.

So he did. He kissed her long and hard, a wet, delicious kiss filled with lots of tongue, a low moan coming from him and a sweet little whimper coming from Reagan. She felt so damn good in his arms again, so right.

He never wanted to let her go.

“Declan.” She whispered his name against his mouth and he pulled away from her, everything inside of him throbbing and pulsing in need of her. “We’re at my work.”

“So?” He frowned before diving in for another kiss, but she pressed her hands against his shoulders, keeping him from doing so.

“So we should probably take this somewhere else.” She glanced down with raised brows, and he noticed he had one hand firmly on her breast.

And the other was cupping her delectable butt.

He dropped his hands and stepped back, curling his fingers into fists to keep himself from touching her. “You’re off soon, right?”

She frowned. “How did you know?”

“I asked.” He shrugged. He felt like such a shit for letting his work consume him, especially these last two weeks when filming ran over. But he knew he couldn’t devote the time to her that she deserved. He firmly believed that once he was finished with the movie completely, he could finally go to her and give her the proper attention she deserved.

And his Reagan definitely deserved proper attention. This girl…he was a goner for her. He could only hope like hell she felt exactly the same way.

“Do you want to go somewhere and talk once I get off work?” she asked, her voice careful, her expression wary. She still didn’t understand his true intentions and he needed to make them clear.

But not here. Not in public.

“How about we go back to your place?” he suggested.

“My place?”

“Yeah. We can talk privately there, right?”

“Yes. Definitely.” She nodded, still appearing perplexed. “That sounds good.”

“I’ll drive.” He grabbed her hand, giving it a squeeze. He didn’t want her confused or sorry. He wanted her happy to see him, to have him back into her life.

“But my car…”

“We can leave it here and I’ll help you get it later,” he said, his voice firm. No way was she not leaving with him. He didn’t want to let her out of his sight for a good long time.

Preferably forever.

She didn’t argue, thank goodness. “Okay, that sounds good. Perfect.”

Perfect. Yes, he hoped this would end up perfectly. Otherwise he’ll feel like a perfect failure.

And that was the last thing he wanted to deal with.

Chapter Nine

Her apartment was small but cute. Decorated sparsely, but still with Reagan’s personality shining through, what with the framed photos on her bookshelf and the bursts of bright colors in the pillows that were scattered across her pale gray couch.

“Nice place,” he said as she shut the door behind him. The entire drive to her apartment building they’d made small talk, never saying anything important, which had driven him nuts.

All he wanted to do was confess his undying devotion to her, but they were still making stupid idle conversation.

“Thank you. It’s nothing outrageous, but it’s mine.” She walked ahead of him into the small kitchen, calling over her shoulder, “Want something to drink?”

“No.”

She turned on her heel and studied him, her eyes wide, her expression unsure. “What do you want, then?”

Did she really have to ask? Guess she did. Tired of messing around, he went for it.

“You,” he said softly. “That’s all I want Reagan, is you. I know I’m probably moving too fast and possibly freaking you out, but I can’t help it. Since we left Vegas I’ve thought of nothing else but returning to you. I worked on the movie, tried to lose myself in the character, but you haunted my thoughts, my dreams.”

The look on her face was nothing short of horrified. “Don’t tell me I…hurt you somehow with this role.”

“No, no, no. The great thing is, my character needed something to want. Something that was frustrating him because it was always out of his grasp.” Declan smiled. “That was you. You became the one thing I couldn’t have but I so desperately wanted. I channeled all of my energy into wanting you into the role and it…it fucking worked.” Beautifully, he might add, but he didn’t want to brag. More than anything, he didn’t want to jinx it.