Chapter 9 - What Money Can't Buy
"He's getting better with his throw," Declan said, wiping his brow with a towel as he reached the terrace. He poured himself a glass of lemonade and leaned against the balustrade beside me.
"You're corrupting my son," I teased softly. "He told me yesterday he wants to go to Notre Dame and study structural engineering."
"He's smart, Elena," Declan said, his tone turning sincere. "He has an analytical mind. He's going to build incredible things one day."
We stood in comfortable silence for a long moment, watching the blue waves of Lake Michigan glinting in the afternoon sun.
"I talked to my real estate agent today," I mentioned quietly, looking down at my glass. "I found a wonderful four-bedroom craftsman home near Oak Park. Close to my shop. Beautiful yard for the kids."
Declan froze. The relaxed posture disappeared from his shoulders. He set his glass down slowly on the railing, turning to face me completely.
"You're moving to Oak Park?" he asked, his voice dropping into a low, measured tone that hid a deep, underlying tension.
"It's close to the kids' school," I explained softly. "We've been staying in your guest wing for six months, Declan. You've given us everything—safety, stability, a future. But I need to build a life for my family. We can't live in your home forever."
Declan stepped closer, his shadow falling over me. His dark blue eyes were fierce, filled with an emotion he had kept tightly controlled for half a year.
"Why not?" he asked bluntly.
I blinked, caught off guard. "Declan..."
"This isn't just my home anymore, Elena," Declan said, his voice raw with sudden, powerful honesty. "Before you walked into this house, these rooms were just marble and stone holding up a legacy of blood and regret. I had billions of dollars in bank accounts, and I ate my meals alone in a silent room."
He reached out, his large, warm hand gently cupping the side of my face, his thumb softly tracing my cheekbone. My heart began to race violently against my ribs.
"I don't want you to move to Oak Park," Declan whispered, his eyes searching mine with intense vulnerability. "I want you, Mason, and Sophie to stay here. Not in the guest wing. With me."
"Declan... your world... your past..."
"My past is gone, Elena," he interrupted gently. "I tore it down the night your daughter gave me that cupcake. You gave me something money could never buy. You gave me a home. You gave me a family. If you leave..."
He stopped, letting out a soft, breathy laugh at his own confession.
"If you leave, I'll just have to buy every house on your block in Oak Park so I can be near you."
I laughed, tears rising in my eyes as I looked at the man who had fought through hell to protect my children. "You are absurd, Declan Rourke."
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"I am a man in love with you, Elena," Declan said softly, his voice trembling slightly. "I have been since the moment you stood between your children and a gun in my dining room."
He pulled me gently against his chest, leaning down until his lips met mine in a deep, sweet, unhurried kiss that tasted like sunshine and promise.
