“If I’d known I was going to get a tour, I would have cut it short,” I reply.

“Well, this will give you a start.” He points out different homes and tells me stories about the families that originally homesteaded them.

“You know, if you ever lose your night job, this might fit you perfectly,” I say when he pauses. “You know your history.”

“A lot of this could be bullshit,” he admits. “I’m just telling you what I’ve heard.”

“Isn’t that what most tales are?”

He’s headed back to the freeway now and I turn the music up, singing along with an old Goo Goo Dolls song. “I met Johnny Resznik once,” I inform him.

“Really? Do tell.”

“It was at a Goo Goo Dolls concert. I got VIP tickets and got to pose for a photo with him.” I giggle and shake my head. “So, I didn’t really meet him, but I did get to touch him.”

“He’s a nice guy.”

I turn in my seat and stare at Declan. “You know him?”

“I’ve just met him a couple of times when they recorded in Memphis.”

I sit back in my seat and stare straight ahead. “You know Johnny Resznik.”

“I’ve met him,” he corrects me.

“That makes up for the lack of cooking skills.”

Declan lets out a loud, surprised laugh. “I’m glad.”

“Besides, I like your cereal breakfasts.”

He sends me a naughty grin. “How about dessert?”

“We had dessert at your sister’s house.”

“I could go for second dessert.”

I wrinkle my nose. “That’s a thing?”

“Oh yes. It’s a thing.” Just as we enter the city, he pulls off the freeway and turns into the parking lot of a divey little diner. “And this place has the best peach cobbler in Louisiana. Wait here.”

He jogs inside, places his order to go, joins me again and then lays the warm box in my lap.

“It’s hot.”

“Yes, ma’am. And there’s a pint of vanilla ice cream in there too.”

We’re not far from his house, and he pulls into the driveway and escorts me to his door.

“I guess you’re not dropping me off at home.”

He turns the key in the lock and grins knowingly. “You’re a good guesser. Let’s go this way,” he says when I would head back toward the kitchen. “I haven’t had a chance to show it to you yet. I just finished it the other day.”

He opens a door, and my jaw immediately drops. “Oh, Declan.”

Chapter Eight

~Declan~

Her eyes are wide with wonder as she wanders around the music room, the dessert, and me, long forgotten. I hang back and gaze about the space with her, proud of the finished product. The walls are painted a soft grey with one wall lined with old grey barn wood. Antique brass instruments are hung on the walls, and the instruments I play are on stands, placed throughout the room.

But her eyes are glued to the piano in the corner, where wide windows look out over the back yard.

“You have a baby grand,” she breathes and gently runs her fingertips over the top of it.

Every move, every sound she makes is pure sex. I want to boost her up and take her right here, on this piano, but I have to reign myself in.

“Can I play it?” she asks without looking back at me.

“Of course.” I sit in a chair, giving her space, surprised that she plays. Not that I should be surprised; I never asked her. She opens the keys, settles her bottom on the bench the way she’s comfortable, and then begins to play a song that I played at the bar a few nights ago.

Funny, I was thinking of her when I played it. But that was on the guitar. The piano makes it softer, more romantic. She’s humming as she’s playing.

Jesus, I’ve never seen anything sexier than Callie in this very moment. I’d wondered how I would feel about having her around my family. Would it be awkward? Uncomfortable? I’d never taken anyone to family dinner before, but it was none of those things.

Callie was gracious and friendly, despite being nervous, which she’ll deny, but her sweaty palms didn’t lie. She charmed my family almost as quickly as she charmed me.

Even Ailish went right to her, and if seeing Callie holding a baby wasn’t a kick to the balls, I don’t know what is. How can I barely know this woman, and already be thinking of something… permanent?

I don’t do permanent.

While she plays, I pull the cobbler out of the bag, open it and the ice cream, and help myself. Good music and good food. I could live on this alone for about a week.

Suddenly, she stops and turns around.

“Hey! Don’t eat it all!”

“Don’t stop now, sweetheart. I’m getting food and a show. I’m never on this end of it.” I grin and take another bite, but she gets up and joins me, kneeling between my legs. “Oh, you want me to share?”

Her lips purse as she tries not to smile. “Yes.”

“Okay.” I scoop up a tiny piece of cobbler and hold it up for her. “This is all you get.”

She sticks that suckable lower lip out in a pout. “But I played you a pretty song.”

“Okay.” I add just a tiny bit more. “There you go.”

She eats it off the spoon, then takes the utensil from me, loads it up with a huge bite of cobbler and ice cream and holds it up for me to eat.

“Delicious.”

“See? I was generous.”

I nod and return the favor, then lean in and lick a drop of ice cream off the outside of her lips, making her purr in that sexy as hell way she does that makes my cock come to full attention.

Next thing I know, she’s taken the whole damn thing and is running out of the room and toward the stairs.

“Mine!” she shouts and squeals when she hears my footsteps behind her. I could easily catch her, but I let her run, enjoying the way her ass moves up the stairs. She runs into the bedroom, to the bathroom, and shuts and locks the door.

“Does this mean you’re not sharing?” I ask calmly, enjoying the fuck out of her.

“Not sharing,” she confirms, panting. “Mmm, it’s so good.”

“Callie?”

“I’m sorry, Callie’s not here.”

I chuckle, pull my pocket knife out and get to work on the lock. It’s easy to pick. Her eyes widen when I open the door. Her mouth is stuffed full of cobbler.

“I think you should share.”

“I mox daf,” she says around the food.

“I know you locked it,” I reply, advancing on her. “I unlocked it.”

“Rude.”

“Yes, you are.” She smirks and is about to put the last bite in her mouth, but I catch her wrist in my fist and quickly take the bite instead. “You’re also a dessert hog.”

“It’s your fault for only getting one.”

She wipes her mouth on a towel, stands, and smooths her hands down her shirt and jeans. “I’ll be going home now.”

I simply grin at her prim declaration. “No. You won’t.”

“No?”

I shake my head.

“What am I going to do then?”

I take her hand, the grin still firmly on my face, toss her over my shoulder, and slap her ass with a loud whack.

“Hey!”

“Did that hurt?” I ask, carrying her down the stairs.

“No. Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

“You’re not taking me to bed?” I love that her voice sounds disappointed. I want her to crave me. To need me. Because I sure as fuck need to be inside her any chance I can get.

“Not yet.”

“Declan!” The frustration in her voice makes me laugh, and then she’s laughing with me. “You’re such an ass.”

“Yep.” I stop out on the back porch and set her down, then turn her to face the yard. “I wanted to show you this too.”

“Wow.” The yard isn’t huge, but the privacy fence keeps it quiet and free of prying eyes. “When did you do this?”

“I had it done last week while I was working on the music room. I’m not a landscaper, so I hired it out.”

She nods, steps off the porch and walks into the yard. She’s barefoot, and doesn’t even think twice about stepping into the grass. “I love the pond back here.”