Page 82 of Found in Wild Sage

“Nope. He’s smart. He may even be fairly emotionally intelligent. But these guys… they don’t know what to do with love. And I’m not saying you and I are experts. But I’m saying none of this is going to make sense until you pin him down and one of you gets brave.”

I swallow hard right as the front door swings open. Grant pushes the door, then walks Dec in with one hand on his shoulder.

Declan looks… I’m not sure. Rumpled, for sure, but sleepy, too.

“Hey! You’re back right on time.” Sam takes her glass and sets it in the sink, then gives me a quick hug before slipping past Declan and hopping into Grant’s arms. “Have a good night, you two!”

She grabs the door as Grant backs out, his gaze finding mine. “Good luck,” he offers with a small nod, then the door closes, and they’re gone.

Declan is still standing a few feet inside the entryway.

I move forward, compelled by his presence and also a deep curiosity, because my occasionally peculiar man is being downright weird.

“How was the birthday?”

His blue gaze finds me and his expression instantly softens. “I drank too much.”

“Oh.” This is unexpected. As far as I know, he doesn’t really drink. He also doesn’t seem to be swaying or even tipsy, though his words aren’t as crisp as they normally are.

“Finn made everyone do shots. Because he’s an idiot.”

I chuckle because his delivery is so dry and older-brother-ish, I can’t help it.

“Did you have to do them? Doesn’t he know you don’t really like to drink?”

He nods in an exaggerated way. “Yes. But I did because I’m an idiot.”

There’s no point in trying to hide my laughter now. “Well, at least you’re honest.”

I want to hug him and smooth the hair out of his face. Kiss his cheek, get him water, and tuck him in. There’s just something about him right now that makes me want to protect him, even though he’s in no danger.

Instead, I hold out my hand. He takes it, our palms sliding together in a way that shouldn’t thrill me. After all, we kissed. His hands were all over me and mine, him. How does this still send my heart into cartwheels?

“Let’s get you some water, and then probably into bed unless you need something to eat?”

“We had dinner. I’m okay.”

His steps are heavier than usual, and he seems a little spacey, but otherwise, I would never know he’s been overserved. I’m sure he’s probably all out of words by now, so I keep a running narration going.

“Drink this first glass, and then I’ll refill it before we go up.” He does as I ask, and while I refill the glass, I ask, “Did you have any fun?”

Another big nod. “Finn’s great. He’s fun, so it’s easy to have fun with him.”

I can’t help my smile. It’s the sweetest thing to say. This man has the softest heart for his family.

“Any idea why Grant wished me good luck with you?” I slide my hand back in his and guide him toward the stairs, tugging him along behind me, the full glass of water in my opposite one.

“Probably because alcohol serves as a truth serum for me.”

I glance back at him to see his eyes squarely on my butt. “Oh, really? What are you thinking right now?”

“I’m thinking you have the most perfect ass.”

I cackle, a thrill zipping up my spine. Truth serum indeed. We’ve agreed to be honest, but that’s definitely in the realm of things he’s kept tucked away.

It’s probably wrong that a sense of giddiness fills me. Sam suggested I push him a little, so maybe now’s the time.

I tow him behind me. He’s not resisting, but he’s definitely requiring the connection to make sure he’s following me. But then he is stopped, halted like a mule in the middle of the hallway.