Unfinished Hero 04 Deacon (41 page)

“I can. But my dick has a mind of its own
around you. Don’t need to be fightin’ gettin’ hard while a
ten-year-old kid is interrogatin’ me about my life.”

“Oh,” I mumbled, getting it.

“Or when I’m walkin’ down the aisle in a
grocery store.”

I started grinning.

Deacon watched my mouth, muttering, “I see
she gets me.”

“I get you.”

His eyes came to mine. “I’ll get over that,
woman, I get used to you.”

He was teasing.

“Then I’ll have to keep giving it to you good
so you don’t,” I retorted.

His thumb slid over my lips again with his
eyes watching as he said, “She likes me hard.”

“Absolutely.”

His eyes came back to mine and they were
dancing.

I leaned in and touched my lips to his.

When I pulled back, I asked, “When’s your
birthday?”

“September thirtieth,” he answered
instantly.

That would have washed over me too, in a
happy way, but it didn’t (well, it did, just that I was
shocked).

“Seriously?”

His brows drew together. “No boundaries,”

I couldn’t believe this.

He knew it. I knew when he growled, “Not
lyin’, woman.”

“Baby,” was all I could get out.

“What?” he clipped.

I wanted to start giggling.

I didn’t.

Instead, I said, “That’s my birthday
too.”

He stared. Then he grinned.

And all was right in the world.

“No shit?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“Meant for me, Cassie,” he murmured. “I know
’cause eight years from the day God put me on earth, he put you
here for me.”

He was so wrong.

“No,” I disagreed. “Eight years before I got
to this earth, he put you here for me.”

His eyes started dancing again before that
light faded and his expression got serious.

“Got one more thing to ask of you.”

“Shoot.”

He took his hand from my jaw to wrap his arm
around me again and both held me close.

“Need you to talk to someone about watchin’
Glacier Lily. Need to go to Iowa, see my folks, mend what I broke,
and when I do, I want you to be with me.”

Yes.

Yes.

It was back.

I felt
glee
.

“I’m there whenever you’re ready,” I replied
immediately.

“Fuck, I love you,” he returned on a powerful
arm squeeze.

“Love you more.”

“That’s doubtful.”

I screwed my eyes up at him. “I totally love
you more.”

He held my gaze. Then his went to the porch
ceiling.

“She can argue about who loves who more.”

“I
so
love you more,” I retorted.

He looked back at me.

Then he whispered, “Beautiful war.”

Beautiful war.

It was indeed.

I didn’t get the chance to agree.

Deacon slid his hand up into my hair, pulled
me to him, and kissed me.

He gave it all to me.

I gave it back.

And we made out in Deacon’s chair in the cold
on my porch by a river in the Colorado Mountains and we did it a
long,
long
time.

Yes.

Daddy was home.

Yippee!

Cookies

I was in my foyer, pacing the floor, Bossy at
my side panting.

Deacon was leaned against the jamb of the
kitchen door, arms crossed on his chest, jeans-clad hip hitched,
one foot crossed at the ankle, watching me.

“Woman, cool it,” he ordered.

I stopped and looked to him.

Mom and Dad were going to be there imminently
to look after Glacier Lily while Deacon and I went to Iowa.

I’d called Mom and told her Deacon was back,
we’d worked things out, and we were picking up where we left
off.

Considering the way I was when they showed in
August, this news didn’t bring joy to my mother.

I then shared everything about Deacon.

Well, not the parts about him killing people,
but (most of) the rest. About Jeannie. About him going off the
grid. About him being called Ghost and why. And about his struggle
when I went about doing something I didn’t really know I was doing:
reviving him.

Not surprisingly, she caved.

Mom had a good heart.

Dad did not cave.

He had a good heart but a big part of that
heart belonged to me.

He’d need some convincing.

Even so, they’d agreed to come. Titus was
going to look after the ranch while they were gone.

And since they were going to be there any
minute, I was freaking.

“I’m sorry to remind you of this, honey, but
I wasn’t really in a good state when they showed after you left
me,” I told him.

Deacon sighed, pushed away from the jamb, and
came to me.

Even though Bossy tried to get his attention,
nosing his thigh and wagging her tail frantically, Deacon only had
eyes for me.

He lifted both hands and cupped my jaw,
dipping his face to mine.

“Do you love me?” he asked.

“Of course,” I answered.

“Does he love you?” he went on.

“Yes,” I replied.

“Then, Cassie, he may not love me. He may not
forgive me. He might not find it in his heart to understand. But if
you love me, he’ll find a way to put up with me.”

Suddenly, I relaxed.

Because he was wrong.

Not about the part about Dad finding a way to
put up with him.

About the part where Dad might not find it in
his heart to understand.

He would.

He just needed to see to believe.

I nodded.

Deacon dipped his head further to kiss
me.

Bossy raced from us to the door.

They were there.

I started freaking again.

Deacon felt it, lifted his head, looked in my
eyes, and ordered, “Jesus. Cool it.”

“Bossy,” I snapped.

He grinned.

And again I quit freaking.

He let me go but grabbed my hand and took me
to the door.

He dropped my hand but draped an arm around
my shoulders as we waited on the porch at the top of the steps
while Mom and Dad made their way to us (“we” meant Deacon and me,
Bossy ran out to greet them).

Bossy got love first then they climbed the
steps and I got some.

Introductions were awkward. Even though Mom
invited Deacon to call her Beth on a warm smile, Dad invited Deacon
to call him Obadiah on an assessing look.

We got them in. Mom and I set about filling
cups of coffee. Deacon went back out and helped Dad get the
bags.

And I got wired again because Dad allowed
this but he didn’t hide he was doing it to be polite.

“It’ll be okay, Cassidy,” Mom murmured to me
in the kitchen while they (followed by Bossy) took the bags
upstairs.

I said nothing.

Mom knew I was wired, reached out, and gave
my hand a squeeze before letting it go.

That was reassuring, as Mom could be, but not
reassuring enough.

The men came back, we sat around shooting the
breeze at the kitchen table, then Deacon sent my freak out into
overdrive when he turned to Dad and said, “Obadiah, been cooped up
in a car awhile. You wanna take a walk?”

Oh God.

My eyes flew to Mom’s.

She nodded encouragingly.

“It’s cold,” Dad replied and my heart sunk.
“But you know, I think I would.”

My gaze went to my father and my heart
swelled.

Their chairs scraped as they got up and left
the room, Bossy going with them.

I didn’t move a muscle.

Neither did Mom.

I heard the door close.

“You were right, he’s extremely handsome,”
she noted.

I looked to Mom and said nothing.

“Rugged.”

She was not wrong.

“Manly,” she went on.

I swallowed.

“Tall,” she kept at me.

I fought wringing my hands.

“Built.”

“Uh-huh,” I mumbled.

“And, Cassie,” she said, her voice going
soft. “It is not lost on your father that he’s being respectful to
us, this is not easy on him because we know what he put you
through, and he looks at you like you’re the only reason on this
earth he’s still breathing.”

Tears filled my eyes.

“It’ll all be okay,” she whispered.

I swallowed again and nodded.

“Love you, angelface.”

The tears threatened to spill over so my
voice was husky when I replied, “Love you too, Mom.”

“And so happy you found yourself a man who
loves you like that.”

I deep breathed.

She calmly took a sip of coffee even though
her eyes were bright too.

When she was done, she stated, “I hope you
have a big spread planned for tonight. I’m starving.”

“We can start dinner now,” I offered gamely.
“We’ll eat it early.”

“Let’s do that,” she agreed.

We did that.

The men came back.

I glanced at my father’s impassive face but
my eyes became glued to Deacon as he followed Dad into the
kitchen.

He came direct to me, his expression giving
away nothing.

But when he made it to me, he curled a hand
tight at my hip, bent close, touched his mouth to mine, lifted
away, and said quietly, “All good, baby.”

I let out my breath.

“You get back, we’ll stay a few days, you
don’t mind,” Dad said to the room and Deacon and I turned to him to
see him sitting at the table, one hand back to his coffee cup, the
other in Bossy’s ruff, her jaw on his thigh. “Take our Cassie to
the slopes. You up for that?” Dad asked Deacon.

“Absolutely,” Deacon replied.

I nearly choked on my giggle at the very
thought of badass Deacon on a snowboard.

But mostly it was a giggle of relief.

Deacon moved toward Dad at the table.

I looked to Mom and she got close to me.

“What’d I say?” she asked under her
breath.

I looked to what I was doing at the
counter.

But I did it muttering, “Whatever.”

She chuckled quietly.

As for me, I smiled at the counter.

Huge.

Somehow Deacon had made it all right.

I shouldn’t have worried.

I should have believed.

I wouldn’t make that mistake again. Not
ever.

Because my man could do anything.

* * * * *

It was snowing, late afternoon, skies gray,
when Deacon pulled up to the curb outside the tidy, little house on
a sweet street in Iowa.

He didn’t even stop before the door opened
and a woman’s body filled it.

This wasn’t surprising. In the hotel that
we’d checked into forty-five minutes ago, he’d made the call to
tell them we were in town and he wanted to see them.

He suggested dinner at a restaurant that
evening.

His mother had told him to come
immediately.

We’d come immediately.

As I heard Deacon’s door open, I watched the
woman walk out onto the porch, a man followed her, more people were
inside.

His sister, maybe.

I pushed my door open and Deacon was there
when I jumped out.

He closed the door for me, grabbed my hand,
and guided me to the walk.

I took in deep breaths as I saw them, his
parents, his sister, a man hanging back in the house, a little boy
at his side, leaning against his dad’s leg, a toddler in the curve
of the man’s arm.

Deacon’s nephew and niece, both he’d never
met.

Deacon let my hand go halfway up the steps
that were nearly covered with empty pots awaiting spring flowers,
making the ascent awkward for two people.

He didn’t let me go because of that.

He let me go because his mother was losing
it. It was plain to see.

And when he hit the porch, she lost it.

I stopped moving one step down.

She rushed him, rolling up on her toes, her
hands clasping his cheeks, and stood still, silent tears streaming
down her face.

The same happened to me.

“My boy,” she forced out in a voice cracked
and scratchy.

“Yeah, Mom,” Deacon replied gently, lifting
one of his hands to cup her cheek.

“My boy,” she repeated, lost the silent, and
sobbed.

Deacon folded her in his arms, bending his
head deep to put his lips to her hair, and he whispered to her
words I couldn’t hear.

She clutched him harder.

I concentrated all my efforts on not making a
fool of myself and losing it too by letting loose ugly, sloppy
tears.

“Got someone I want you to meet,” Deacon
said, his voice now louder. “So you gotta let me go so I can
introduce you to the woman who brought me back, Mom.”

She nodded, took her time letting him go, and
turned to me, wiping her face.

“Mom, meet my Cassie,” Deacon introduced.

I forced a smile. “Hello, Mrs. Gates.”

“I…you…” She sucked in an audible breath and
invited, “Call me Rosalie.”

I kept smiling. “I’d be delighted.”

Her face started crumbling so I rushed up the
steps and took her in my arms.

She clasped on tight.

I looked around her and saw Deacon shaking
hands with his dad, his dad’s eyes glued to his son’s, his other
hand lifted and thumping Deacon on his arm. Then his expression
shifted, melting, and I watched Deacon tighten their hold so he
jerked his father to him until they were hands clasped between
them, arms around each other.

“Home, Dad.” I heard Deacon mutter.

Another quiet sob burst from the woman in my
arms.

“Yeah, boy. Good. Good you’re home,” his
father replied, voice thick, now pounding him on the back.

“Sweetheart, let’s take this inside,” the man
in the door suggested and Deacon’s sister moved.

She got us inside and the door barely closed
before she fell into her brother’s arms, bursting into the tears
she held through the earlier reunions. So that was when Deacon bent
his head and talked into her hair too.