Unfinished Hero 04 Deacon (12 page)

His brows drew together (slightly) and he
stated, “I’m gettin’ you a dog.”

I shook my head and repeated, “What’s
happening?”

Something shifted across his face so fast I
didn’t catch it before he declared, “We’ve changed.”

He said no more.

So I pushed, “How have we changed?”

“Don’t know. Reckon we’ll find out.”

Was he crazy?

“You don’t know? You reckon we’ll just find
out?”

“That’s what I said.”

My voice was pitching higher when I asked,
“What does that mean?”

“After last night, we changed,” he responded
immediately. “And that change can go two ways. Either I drive away
and we never see each other again or I don’t and we find out what
that change is gonna mean. Read down to your bones, woman, and do
it now. Which way do you want that change to be?”

I clamped my mouth shut so I wouldn’t blurt
out which way I wanted that change to be.

That being him
never
driving away so I
wouldn’t see him again and we find out what it was going to be.

Then he again threw me when he asked
suddenly, “How many men have you had?”

“What?” I breathed.

“How many men have you taken?”

I knew what he meant but I asked for
clarification anyway.

“You mean lovers?”

“Yep,” he confirmed indifferently.

“I…you…uh…” I stammered then got myself
together. “Why are you asking?”

“Just answer.”

I straightened my shoulders and asked, “How
many women have you had?”

“Thirty-eight.”

I blinked.

“Back at me,” he ordered.

“Five,” I whispered.

He nodded like he already knew the answer.
“Right. Five. Just five. That means a woman like you would not
spread your legs for a man like me if she didn’t want the cock she
was taking. By that I mean a woman like you would not spread her
legs for a man like me if she didn’t want to find out what bein’
with that man might mean. And you spread your legs for me.”

My eyes dropped to his throat as I muttered,
“Actually, you kind of were the one doing the spreading.”

“You didn’t fight me.”

I looked back at him and agreed softly,
“No.”

“So, down to your bones, Cassidy, which way
do you want that change to be?”

I backtracked necessarily. “What do you mean
by a man like you?”

“You know precisely what I mean.”

Okay, I had to admit, he was right. I knew
exactly what that meant.

Well, not
exactly
exactly but I got
the gist.

I clamped my mouth shut again.

He stared down at me, expressionless,
distant, and not just the three feet that separated us
physically.

That didn’t mean I didn’t feel his
intensity.

I so totally did.

My insides squeezed when his voice came at me
again, not businesslike, not casual, not commanding, but quiet and
full of meaning.

“You want me to leave, I’m gone.”

He didn’t mean gone.

He meant
gone
.

So that was when I blurted, “Don’t.
Please.”

And that was when I
really
felt his
intensity, the force of it bearing down on me, making it hard to
breathe.

And his voice was still quiet and full of
meaning when he asked, “We puttin’ a deposit down on a dog
tomorrow?”

“Yes,” I stated immediately, crazily, and
down to my bones I knew foolishly, hopefully, and
last…inevitably.

Because I knew down to my bones that the
feeling I’d been damming all morning would eventually break free
and eviscerate me. Just as I knew down to my bones I couldn’t bear
a life of longing for him, wondering how it could have been if he
gave me what he was offering right at that moment.

The chance to get in.

These thoughts were fleeting and that was
good because I only had time for fleeting thoughts.

I barely finished my “yes” before his hands
were at my jaw like they were earlier that morning, tipping my head
back. But the change was that his mouth slammed down on mine.

I parted my lips and his tongue slid
inside.

That was when a moan drifted up my throat and
into his mouth as I lifted my hands and curled them into his shirt
at the sides of his waist, holding on as he kissed me with a
ferocity that made me dizzy.

I tried to kiss him back the same way but I
wasn’t sure I succeeded before he tore his mouth from mine but
didn’t let go. He didn’t step back. He didn’t retreat.

He stayed right there, my eyes opening to see
his burning into me, and he kept hold of my gaze as he rested his
forehead against mine.

That was sweet. Unbelievably sweet.
Unbearably
sweet from John Priest/Deacon Whoever, and being
me, I processed it at once. I allowed myself to feel the fullness
of that sweetness, that affection, that beauty he was giving to me
because I knew down to my bones he didn’t give it elsewhere. I knew
down to my bones he didn’t have it in him to give it unless it
meant something. And I knew down to my bones that nothing meant
anything to John Priest/Deacon Whoever.

Except me.

“Do you want lunch?” I whispered.

And instantly, he gave me more.

I watched up close as his eyes started
smiling.

I’d been right all those years ago. His eyes
had the power to make you feel what he was feeling. Cold to your
soul. Or warm in a way you’d never again feel a chill.

And that was how I felt right then with
Deacon’s eyes smiling into mine.

Like I’d never feel cold again.

Like I’d feel warm and right and whole and
connected and safe.

Forever.

“Yeah,” he whispered back.

I pushed my forehead into his, forcing him to
allow me to slide it to the side, down his cheek so I could roll up
on my toes and shove my face in his neck.

He moved his hands as I did this, one going
to curl around the back of my neck, the other one sifting into my
hair to cup the back of my head.

I simply continued to clutch his shirt.

And standing there, holding each other like
that, nonverbally, as Deacon was prone to be, we sealed a deal that
elated and terrified me.

On that thought, a knock came at the door and
Deacon’s body tensed as my hands gripped his shirt tighter.

Now, that could be Milagros, but only if she
felt like taking a break.

He didn’t move his hands even as he let me
tip my head back to catch his gaze.

“That might be Milagros, the lady that helps
me.”

If I had a guess, I would have guessed that
he would nod and step away, stay in the study or absent himself in
some way. Keep to the shadows even on a sunny day.

He did not do this.

In fact, he so did not do this he let me go
and walked right out of the study.

I followed him and saw him going to the
door.

It was then I felt him, the alertness coming
off him and filling the foyer, and my eyes went from his back that
was twisting, to his face that was turned to me.

“It’s not your girl,” he murmured and I
looked quickly to the door to see it appeared there were a number
of people standing out on my porch.

“Oh man,” I muttered.

Deacon opened the door.

I hurried to his side and my stomach pitched
when I saw who was there.

Two of the people were Annabelle and Peyton.
One was a young man older than Annabelle but definitely related to
her. And rounding out the lot were two adults that could be no one
other than Annabelle’s parents.

None of them looked happy.

“Can we help you?” Deacon asked.

“Are you Mr. Swallow?” the father asked
back.

“I’m Mr. Priest. This is Ms. Swallow,” Deacon
answered, his head tilting to indicate me, his resuming the name
Priest throwing me for a second that I didn’t have a chance to
process before he kept going. “Now, can we help you?”

“You were both there last night,” the father
stated.

I swallowed and looked to Peyton and
Annabelle.

Both had red eyes like they’d been crying but
they didn’t look scared.

I glanced at the mom.

She looked like her world had ended.

I turned my attention to the young man.

He looked ravaged.

No one looked angry. The dad didn’t seem
happy, but he wasn’t pissed.

What was going on?

“We were,” Deacon confirmed.

The father turned to what I was guessing was
his son. “Duck,” he began. “Now.”

The kid stepped forward, his gaze going to
Deacon’s.

“It was me. I was supposed to look after my
sister and Peyton. We met some kids. Mom and Dad said we could hang
with them. I let the girls drink. Then I met someone and I didn’t
look after my sister. She made her decisions but I promised I’d
take care of her. I didn’t.” He stopped abruptly, his throat
convulsing, and his voice was thick when he went on, “I’m sorry
what happened to them. And I’m sorry you had to do what you had to
do last night. But I’m glad you were around to do it.”

Whoa.

That wasn’t what I expected.

It was a whole lot better.

“It’s our fault, Jayden,” Annabelle called
out meekly. “We shouldn’t have gone with them and not told you
where we were going.”

The boy turned to her. “Was supposed to look
out for you, Belly.”

I sucked in my lips because that was
sweet.

“We’re here on vacation,” the dad stated and
I looked to him. “The kids have their own unit, we have ours. My
son is in college and has demonstrated a certain level of maturity
so we trusted them to that and their own vehicle so they could do
their thing. We thought they were old enough to have some fun
without their mom and dad hanging around. We also trusted Jayden to
look after his sister. He didn’t. My suspicion is, if he gets the
chance again, he will. But we wanted you to know Annabelle shared
with her mother what happened last night. We’ve talked with
Annabelle and Peyton. We’ve talked with Jayden. And now we wanted
to come to apologize for you having to get involved and to express
our gratitude that you did.”

I opened my mouth to say something, ask them
in for a coffee, but Deacon got there before me.

“Don’t ever do that again.” At his firm tone,
a tone so firm it was granite, my eyes shot to him to see his gaze
locked on Jayden. “Your sister, her friends, your mother, the woman
you’re gonna claim, nothin’s more important. Not one thing. You
know that now. Don’t ever forget it.”

My heart was beating funny as I tore my gaze
from Deacon and watched the boy shake his head and swallow before
saying, “I won’t.”

I looked back at Deacon to see him jerk his
chin to the kid.

That was when I jumped in.

“Do you all wanna come in for a drink or
something?”

“I think we’ve had our share of your
kindness, Ms. Swallow,” the mother replied.

“If there’s any damage done, we’re willing to
pay,” the father put in.

I shook my head. “Not necessary. The renters
have been charged for the damage.”

The man nodded his head jerkily. He was upset
about what happened and disappointed in his children.

And I suspected he wanted to move on.

“We appreciate you coming,” I said in order
to let them know they were off the hook.

“And we appreciate you being responsible for
our girls when we were not,” the man declared curtly and I knew he
was also kicking himself, which made me feel sad for him but happy
that Annabelle had a father that seemed a lot like mine.

“It’s done now and all’s well,” I said
quietly.

I got another jerky head nod from the dad
then he used his head to indicate to the others they needed to move
out.

The mom smiled at Deacon but stopped at me,
looked in my eyes, communicating everything that needed to be said
(and there was a lot) as she took my hand and gave it a squeeze
before she moved away.

The boy avoided my eyes as he nodded my way
but gave Deacon a handshake.

Both girls stopped and gave me a hug,
Annabelle whispering in my ear, “You’re cool, Cassidy. And we want
you to know we’re cool. Thanks to you,” before she let me go
quickly, didn’t let me say anything, and hurried to the SUV.

The father shook Deacon’s hand and gave me a
chin dip before he walked stiffly to his truck.

We watched them do this before Deacon pulled
me gently out of the door and closed it.

I looked up at him, striking a trip to Vista
Real off my to-do list and glad for it. Not because it wasn’t
exactly close, but because I could feel settled that those two
girls were being looked after.

So, with my afternoon (kind of) free, when I
caught his eyes, I asked, “Do you like turkey?”

He stared down at me, blank, giving me
nothing.

For only a beat.

Then he gave me everything.

He did this by slowly, amazingly,
magnificently
smiling
. His gorgeous lips turning up, deep
grooves pressing into the sides of his mouth and radiating out the
sides of his glorious, spiky-lashed, tawny eyes.

Taking that in, I was blinded by the beauty.
But I didn’t care.

Not even a little bit.

It was insane, foolish, but I knew down to my
bones I would have been happy if the last vision I had before all
went dark was Deacon Whoever smiling at me.

That’s Where It’s At

Eyes locked to mine, Deacon moved inside me,
slow, sweet, gentle stroking.

Making love to me.

Amazing.

He pulled out, shifted his hips, glided back
in and that felt so good, my lips parted.

He watched them part and made a low noise. I
felt it rumble through his chest even as I heard it and I knew he
saw my reaction.

And liked it.

And I liked that.

He pulled out, shifted his hips, and stroked
in.