Deacon (Unfinished Hero #4)(108)

* * * * *

Late that spring, I stood at the end of the side porch, looking into the new clearing, watching what was happening there, close to the river.

Deacon, Manuel, and Deacon’s (very handsome) friend Raid were working on the gazebo.

He’d chosen the octagon.

It was going to be beautiful.

Esteban and Gerardo were helping. Gerardo even had a little man’s tool belt on his hips. Of course, it was filled with plastic tools, but it worked for him. Silvia was hanging around, handing men nails, helping with boards, mostly to be near Deacon. Though, I was beginning to wonder if it was mostly to be near Raid.

She needed a boyfriend.

But only in a few years.

Like, ten of them.

Down the way, I could hear, but wasn’t looking at Raid’s woman Hanna playing what sounded like ring around the rosy with Margarita and Araceli, Bossy dancing around them, barking happily.

And behind me, I heard Milagros come up.

I didn’t look at her, even as she got so close our shoulders brushed.

Needless to say, Deacon fixed things with the Cabreras.

It took him a while with Milagros.

But he did it.

He was also taking downtime, hanging with me, helping with the cabins. Since there wasn’t a great deal to do, this meant we went to the slopes a lot when there was snow. And Deacon took to snowboarding like Deacon, effortlessly, explaining this by saying, “My feet were nearly surgically attached to a skateboard when I was a kid, woman.”

Whatever. So he could do anything. And snowboarding with Deacon worked for me.

Anything with Deacon worked for me.

The rest of the time, we dinked around a lot.

Now that the ground was not frozen, he was back to work.

He’d go back to work when I had my gazebo and laundry building. In helping me with the cabins, it became clear that there wasn’t enough for him to do and he’d told me he needed to be busy. So he was going to find a job.

He didn’t know what he wanted to do yet, just that he was going to go back on the grid, officially.

I worried about this. Uncle Sam, I figured, might have a problem with someone dropping out for ten years plus, then showing back up again.

“It becomes a problem, Cassidy, we deal,” Deacon said when I shared these fears with him. “But, woman, shit happens in life and people drop out all the time. I was a homeless man, lost and wandering. You don’t make a homeless man pay taxes.”

This was true, even though Deacon was a homeless millionaire.

But he was right. If it became a problem, we’d deal. Deacon was good with dealing, after he survived the ultimate and came out the other side. It took him some time, but he did it.

So there was no use worrying about it now.

And bottom line, he was back. Not in the shadows. He was living, free and clean.

With me.

“I like his friends,” Milagros noted, taking my mind from my thoughts.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “They’re likeable.”

And they were. Extremely. More so because Raid looked at Hanna a lot like Deacon looked at me.

Like she was his reason for breathing.

That said it all about Raid Miller.

As for Hanna, she was just lovely. And sweet.

“Friends say a lot about a man.”

Milagros wasn’t wrong about that, and Hanna and Raid said everything.

“Manuel no longer worries.”

I closed my eyes as that swept through me.

I opened them again, saying, “I’m glad.”

“I am too, Cassidy.” Her voice was heavy with meaning. “Very glad.”

I drew in a breath, let it go, turned to my friend, and smiled.

She smiled back at me.

Then she said, “Let’s get those workers a drink.”

“You’re on,” I replied.

Her eyes twinkled.

Then we walked into the kitchen to get the workers a drink.

* * * * *

I was barely containing my excitement when the knock came at the door.

“Get that, will you, honey?” I asked the sandwiches I was making at the counter.

“I do, you gonna stop bein’ so f*ckin’ jumpy?” Deacon asked back, and I knew he was moving from the fridge to the door.

Deacon asking this wasn’t because he could read me. This was me being obvious.

“Let’s just say, no surprise parties for you,” I stated.

“What’d you do?”

His tone made me look to him standing in the kitchen door.

Standing. Not walking to open the front door.

“Deacon, you need to—”

“What’d you do?” he repeated.

To get him to get a move on, I answered, “Happy birthday.”

“Woman, it’s April.”

“So?” I asked but didn’t wait for his answer. “You said you didn’t want presents on your birthday. Therefore, you’re getting one not on your birthday.”

He shook his head, staring at me, lips twitching.

I was about to come out of my skin.

“Deacon!” I snapped then bossed, “Go get the door.”

He kept shaking his head, turned, and sauntered through the foyer.

I wanted to go to the kitchen door and watch. I really did.

I didn’t. I knew if I did I might explode with the happy excitement gushing inside me.