In truth, she made it sound like the most logical thing ever. At least, to the point that Ms. Novak was caving. “Well, I suppose you’re right. I’ll have to double-check with Dr. Gupta, of course.”
“Of course,” Tess echoed.
“But as long as that’s what you prefer, Mr. Riley, then I think it sounds feasible.”
What Declan would’ve preferred was to be back in his unit, jumping out of airplanes and serving his country with two kidneys that did their damn job. Since that was out, he simply nodded. “Grand. Thank you.”
He waited until the woman was out of earshot before turning to Tess, but she didn’t even wait for his what the hell to take shape before speaking. “Look, hear me out before you go thermonuclear. If Bernadette or Gupta—or anyone, really, including a home health care worker—thinks our marriage isn’t on the up and up, we’re screwed. We had to say we lived together somewhere, and saying it was my place made more sense than trying to convince Bernadette we’d moved to a one-room, rent-by-the-month apartment.”
Declan processed this, and hell, she wasn’t exactly wrong. “Fine. What about the monitoring, though?”
Tess bit her lip, and he would’ve marveled at stumbling across something that softened her if he wasn’t so busy being turned the fuck on by her mouth. “Well, we couldn’t send a home health care worker to your place since we said you don’t live there. But if I do it instead, I can just come to you.”
“It’s three times a week,” Declan said slowly. Was she mad?
“Well, yeah.” She shrugged. “I’ll just have to juggle some things around to make it happen.”
“Your job and your son, you mean.” Her job in the ED wasn’t exactly a nine-to-five, and Jackson was clearly—and rightfully—a huge priority in her life. Coming out to tend to him on Dr. Gupta’s schedule was going to be a righteous pain in her arse.
A fact which she couldn’t argue, even though she sure looked like she wanted to. “So it’ll take some creative juggling.”
“For ten weeks,” he pointed out.
To his utter surprise, Tess conceded. “Fine. It’ll take creative juggling and possibly a rip in the space-time continuum. I get it, okay? It’s going to be difficult. But honestly, Declan. What other choice do we have? Unless…”
He sorted through the conversation for a viable option, but came up sorely short. “Unless what?”
“Unless we actually do live together.”
“Tess,” he warned. Not that he could back it up with anything he wanted to admit out loud.
She flushed in response. Like that was going to help his resolve. “Look, let’s be honest. The place you’re staying is kind of a crap-hole. It’d be far easier for me to do the monitoring from down the hall than to try and figure out how to get halfway across town three times a week. I have a spare bedroom with its own bath. I’d give you your privacy, of course.” More flushing here, and was she trying to kill him? “But at least you’d have a bed. And a full couch if you want to watch TV—none of that gross recliner bullshit.”
Unable to help it, Declan huffed out a laugh. “The recliner’s not that bad,” he lied. But the last thing he wanted was her feeling sorry for him.
Tess rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “It’s probably being held together by duct tape and sheer will. Come on. This is the smartest play. I know that sharing a condo isn’t ideal—I do have a baby, and I’ll admit I have a serious aversion to folding laundry, which makes my place less than tidy. But it is comfortable. It’s pretty close to the hospital. Plus, not only would I be able to do the monitoring a lot more easily, but then we wouldn’t be lying on the insurance paperwork.”
Ah, hell. He hadn’t thought of that. Tess had been the one to tell Ms. Novak they were living together. The risk of them being caught doing otherwise was likely to be low if Tess monitored his trial meds, but she could still get into serious trouble if they were caught.
His chest squeezed tight beneath his T-shirt. “Are you askin’ me to move in with ya, then?”
“Don’t get cocky, Irish. I wasn’t kidding about the laundry.” Her smile slipped out, and Christ, she was beautiful. “But this really is the best plan, don’t you think?”
“You can’t fix me, you know.”
Declan realized he’d spoken the words only after their release, but Tess simply lifted her brows.
“I don’t want to fix you. I want to help you. And I can, if you let me.”
He knew—God, he knew in his bones that he should say no. Getting close to her was dangerous, and there wasn’t much closer than living with the woman. But he’d be more of a burden, not to mention a risk, by staying in his rental, and maybe he could even help her by staying.
“I’ll do it on one condition,” he said.
“And that is…?”
“You let me help you back. Turns out, I’ve got a knack for folding laundry, and I’ll have nothing but time on my hands. You let me earn my keep—and pay rent”—he stepped closer so she’d know he wasn’t budging on either—“and you’ve got yourself a deal.”
For just a beat, he thought she’d argue. Instead, she broke into a smile he felt in no less than forty places.
“With an offer like that, how can I say no?”
“Guess that makes us roommates, then.”
Now all he had to do was resist her, and he’d be just grand.
11
In hindsight, Tess should’ve taken her panties into consideration when she’d asked Declan to move in with her. Namely, the fact that he’d be navigating around laundry baskets full of them.
Never mind the reality that they’d also be in a perpetual kink because—dummy—she was about to share personal space with him 24/7.
Emphasis on personal.
“Home sweet home!” she said, cringing at the too-bright sound of her voice as she led the way over the threshold with Jackson on one hip. She took in the toys, two laundry baskets brimming with (blessedly) clean clothes, errant medical journals, junk mail, water bottles, flip-flops, and other household clutter that had built up since her last day off, and cringed again. At least it was fairly clean beneath the clutter. Tess had to draw the line somewhere.
Declan’s gaze traveled from the foyer to the open living space lit by evening sunlight, then the kitchen and breakfast nook to the left and the hallway leading toward the bedrooms on the right. “It’s nice,” he said, and she had to crack a smile.
“It’s a mess, but it’s mine.” Tess had only stood firm on two things in her divorce settlement. Alec letting her buy out his half of their lease at a stupid-low price had been one. Full custody of Jackson had been the other. No alimony, frighteningly little child support. No more ties to either of them. Alec had wanted to be rid of her so fast, he’d agreed to both in less than a day.
“The place I just left was a mess,” Declan noted, unslinging his duffel from the lean bulk of his shoulder. “This just looks lived in.”
“By, like, twelve college students during exam week,” Tess countered with a laugh. “Let me get this guy situated so I can give you the grand tour. You must be tired.”