Letting You Know (33 page)

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Authors: Nora Flite

BOOK: Letting You Know
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And
it was weird, really weird. I'm still wrapping my head around it,
I
thought in despair. “She said she'd see us tonight. That she's
really looking forward to meeting you.”


Oh!
Well that's great. In that case, we should get going. It'll take us
all day to get there.” He moved quick, kissing me on the cheek
before grabbing his bags. “Are yours at the bottom of the
stairs?”

Burning
from my blush, I shot a glance at Nicholas; his grin was unhelpful.
“Um, yeah. Did you already say goodbye to everyone?”


Told
them all what was up. Okay, I'll go load everything into the SUV,
then. Grab some coffee, you'll want it for the ride.” Deacon
scurried off, his steps heavy from his speed.

Alone
with Nicholas, very aware of how he was watching everything I did, I
hurried to grab the travel mug that had been apparently left out for
me.


Do
I make you nervous, or something?” He asked.

Jumping,
I spilled some of the hot coffee from the pot. “What? Oh, no,
not at all!”
He
does make me nervous, how can he not? I can't tell where he stands
with me. Is he on Deacon's side, or his dad's?

His
father seems to think this trip is a mistake.

Nicholas
stood, bringing me a napkin in his one good hand. Blinking, I took
it, wiping up the spill. “Listen, Leah,” he started,
leaning on the counter. So close, I could see the flicker of sorrow
in his green eyes. “I think I need to apologize.”


I—what?
Why?”


Well,”
he laughed, scratching his cheek, “I'm pretty sure any strife
you've had out here has sort of been caused by me, intentionally or
not.”

My
gut reaction was to argue against that, yet he shut his eyes, waving
his palm quickly. “Let me just finish. I'm sure Deacon
explained some stuff to you.”

Yes,
I
thought,
he
explained some things... not everything.


But,”
he went on, squinting at me curiously, “I want you to know that
everything was my fault. So don't blame him, please. I honestly
deserved every bit of his anger, and I earned that shove.”
Laughing, he flashed his pearly teeth.

The
hairs on my neck rippled uneasily. “Did you say
shove?

He
crinkled his forehead, smile breaking. “Deacon didn't tell you
about that, did he. Well, shit. Forget I mentioned it then, it was
really nothing.”


Wait,”
I said, almost knocking my coffee off the counter. Nicholas, even
with his wrist injury, was able to snatch it and keep it from
tumbling. “Back up. You're trying to tell me that Deacon shoved
you?”


Sort
of, it was more like he knocked me to the ground—”


He
knocked you to the ground?

I hissed, covering my mouth in shock. “What? When, how did I
not know about this?”

Nicholas
stepped back, confused by my sudden reaction. He couldn't have known
about why this would bother me, not the real details.

How
could he understand what I had been through? That I'd once dated a
man who had ended it all by shoving me,
shoving
me
,
into a table?

Clearing
his throat, he watched me closely. “I uh, it just... it wasn't
a big deal. Trust me, we're brothers, we've tussled before.”


Tell
me when,” I said quietly.

His
jaw fell, then closed in resilience. “The first night I met
you, when I came here with Bethany. That was when it went down. But,
really, it wasn't...”

I
was no longer listening.

He
lied to me that night. Deacon told me nothing had happened, just that
he'd learned about Nicholas dating his ex.

But
that wasn't it.

He
didn't tell me the most important part.

He
attacked Nicholas. He attacked him, and then he lied to me about it.

I
felt dizzy, my world view crumbling in my shock. Only a month ago,
I'd been in Nicholas's shoes, and I would never have suggested what
had happened to me was 'no big deal.'


Are
you okay?” He asked, breaking into my thoughts.

Lifting
my coffee mug, I shook my head excruciatingly slowly. “No, I
don't think I am.”


Leah,
please,” he whispered, lowering his head down to my height. “I
only told you because I thought you knew, to apologize. I wanted you
to understand it wasn't something to stress out over. You're freaking
out now, and that's the opposite of what I wanted here.”

The
cup in my hands felt warm, I let myself focus on it. “It's not
your fault, you don't—you can't understand why this news is
scaring me.”


It's
not a big deal!” He growled, exasperated by my apparent refusal
to budge.

He
feels responsible for my feelings, now, doesn't he? But it isn't his
fault... I needed to know this.

I
just wish I had heard it from Deacon.

Thinking
about how the man I loved would try and hide something like that from
me, it made my skull tight.


Leah,”
he said, hanging his head in defeat. “Please don't take this
out on my brother, he's trying so hard right now. Believe me. What
happened was so stupid... he's a good guy.”

Bethany's
words entered my mind as I watched Nicholas, observing the way he
pleaded with me for the forgiveness of his brother.

Don't
break his heart. And I said I wouldn't. But if Deacon is like... if
he becomes like...

I
promised myself before, I wouldn't ever go through anything like Owen
again.

Seeing
the hurt, the worry, on Nicholas's face made my heart twitch.

Which
promise trumps which?


It's
okay.” My voice was surprisingly firm. “Don't worry about
it. I just need to hear it from him, but if you swear it wasn't a big
deal—”


It
really wasn't!”


Then
I'll take your word, and keep that in mind. Alright?”

Nicholas
tugged at the strap on his sling. “Alright. Just listen to what
he says, he already feels awful about it. Believe me.”

That
is one thing I do believe, actually.

Abruptly,
he wrapped his one arm around me, giving me a firm hug. It felt
genuine, and broke down my forced wall of coldness. Smiling, I
embraced him back tightly. “It was great meeting you,” I
said.


It's
not like I won't see you again,” he chuckled into my ear. “I
expect I'll be seeing you a lot, if I'm honest.”

Blinking,
I flushed with joy at the overt sign of his acceptance of me. Once
more I hugged him, breathing in sharply. “Thank you.”

Breaking
apart, I wiped my eyes quickly, eager to hide my emotional burst of
tears. This was the first of Deacon's family to actually, fully allow
me into their world.

It
felt amazing to be welcomed by someone.


You
should go,” he said, smoothing his hair sheepishly. “Deacon
probably has that car warmed up and waiting. You guys have a long
drive, be careful, okay? That snow wants to have a party, if you ask
me.”


We'll
be fine,” I said, grinning with warmth. “We'll see you in
two days.”


Yeah.”
Nodding, Nicholas watched me hurry off down the hall, calling after
me with authority. “Two days, you better make sure of that!”

****

Nicholas
had been right. Deacon was waiting, the shiny blue SUV glistening in
the bright white of the fresh snow.


Hey,”
he said, rolling the driver window down. “I put your stuff in
the back, you ready?”


I
think so,” I confided, slipping into the car beside him. “Got
my coffee, got the heat on. Think we're ready for this.”

Grinning,
Deacon put the car into drive, turning it over the shoveled snow.
Blinking, I looked up at the bright white sky, shielding my eyes.
“Who plowed all of this?”


My
grandfather has a friend, he called him this morning when he heard me
and my dad 'discussing' the business of borrowing the car.”

Sipping
the bitter coffee, I mulled over his words. “How early were you
up, fighting to borrow a car?”

Deacon
turned a lovely shade of crimson. “Oh, uh, you know... probably
around five?”

It
was difficult to maintain my uncomfortable mood around him when he
wore his reactions so openly.
I
don't know what I should do. I can't just not ask him about Nicholas,
but is now the right time?


So,”
he said, adjusting the mirrors, turning onto the main road, “this
will be a pretty long drive. Do you want some music, or maybe we can
sing to amuse ourselves?”

Sing...
that reminds me... No, I can't ask about that, either. I don't want
to ruin this trip, now that things feel so good again.

Or,
they had felt good, anyway.

Glancing
at Deacon, I saw the sparkle in his lively honey colored eyes.
It's
still good for him, I'll just wait to ask him about everything. I can
handle that burden.


Okay,
throw on the radio.” Leaning back, I sipped my drink and
enjoyed how wonderful the world looked when it was covered in pure
white.

He
flicked the knob, blasting the predictable tunes of Christmas songs
into the car. “Not sick of these yet, I hope.”


Not
sick yet,” I admitted. “I have a terrible secret. I
actually really love Christmas music.”


In
that case,” he grinned, turning the radio up loud enough to
drown out his words, “you're in for a real treat!”

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