Deacon (Unfinished Hero #4)(49)

“We should have called,” Manuel said as I heard the front door being opened.

“You’re welcome here anytime,” I replied, moving his way. “You know that.”

His eyes slid to Deacon. They were not questioning, they were assessing.

I felt Milagros come up to my side. “We must have you to dinner. Are you here long?”

It took effort not to whoop with glee when Deacon answered, “Got a break. I’ll be here three, four weeks.”

“Then we’ll have time,” Milagros stated, holding out a hand. “Good to meet you.”

“Same,” Deacon replied, taking her hand and clasping it before letting it go.

“We’ll see each other again,” Manuel said, offering his own hand.

Deacon took it and replied, “Look forward to it.”

I gave Manuel a kiss on the cheek, same to Milagros with a hug, and we walked them to the door.

We stood in its frame as Milagros and Manuel corralled their kids, who were cavorting on the front porch, and got them in their SUV.

We continued to stand there, me waving, as they drove toward the cabins in order to turn around.

We did not wait for them to drive back down the lane. Deacon moved me in, shut the door, locked it, and looked down at me.

“You got lemon meringue pie?” he asked.

I grinned. “Yep.”

“You can have the sundae. I’ll have pie.”

He’d have pie.

He’d have pie.

I didn’t know how to express how happy that made me, and I didn’t want to because if I did, he’d probably think I was crazy.

Instead, taking a page out of his book, I shared what I needed to say by leaning so far in to him, I was giving him most of my weight, doing it tipping my head back and smiling at him.

He took my weight and supported it by rounding me with his arms.

He also dipped his face closer to mine, doing this while taking in my smile, before saying, “Plans changed. Fuck then you feed me.”

That caused a tingle.

“I’m down with that,” I whispered.

Deacon grinned.

Then he dipped his head further and kissed me.

After that, he lifted me in his arms and carried me to bed.

* * * * *

Much later, draped part on, partly down Deacon’s side, my cheek to his chest, as I heard his breath start to even out telling me he was close to sleep, I whispered into the dark, “Did you like the pie?”

I got no words, but the arm he had curved around me squeezed me tight.

He liked the pie.

I smiled against his chest, tightened my arm draped over his stomach, and kept whispering.

“I’m glad you’re back.”

His body tensed for a moment before it relaxed and he murmured, “Sleep, baby.”

I sighed.

Then I said, “’Kay. ’Night, Deacon.”

“’Night, Cassie.”

I smiled again against his chest.

Then I closed my eyes.

Chapter Nine

Eleven

The next day, I was walking through Home Depot, trying not to let my head explode.

This was because I had been shopping in the garden center. I’d been grabbing plastic trays of flowers that I was going to plant in my window boxes and planters and I was doing this babbling my grand plans of bringing floral beauty to Glacier Lily. At the same time I was hoping out loud that we didn’t get a late spring snow which would mean I’d waste hundreds of dollars since all the plants would die and I’d have to do it again (something that had happened once before and it didn’t make me happy).

Eventually, I turned from selecting plants and jabbering and found Deacon, who’d come with me, had disappeared.

I was talking to no one.

The mini-welcome home party the night before had gone great. It was simple: sex, then Deacon eating reheated meatloaf and mashed potatoes, then more sex, and finally Deacon crashing because he not only drove to get to me without eating, he’d done it without sleeping, and this had taken two days. This last had alarmed me, but then again, he was a thirty-eight-year-old man. He might need a woman, but he didn’t need a mother. Therefore, I kept my mouth shut.

The party continued in the morning with more sex then bacon, eggs, and toast upon which I told Deacon that day’s agenda included me hitting Home Depot in preparation for bringing floral beauty to Glacier Lily.

Deacon had grinned (score two of the morning, score one being a nearly-upon-waking orgasm). Then he’d said he’d come with me (score three).

I had happy, hopeful visions of shopping with Deacon (something I looked forward to in a way that might seem weird to some, but being alone for years, it was not weird to me), coming home, and Deacon helping me with the flowers.

This had a dual purpose. That being me getting the flowers planted faster, thus having some downtime to be with Deacon, and also working alongside Deacon. I had hope, what with his comments about Grant being lazy, that he was not. That his assertion that if things worked out between us and he would be eighty and sitting next to me in an Adirondack chair meant he didn’t intend to spend the next forty-two years having me cook, clean, take care of the cabins, and him doing…whatever it was he did until he quit doing it and ended up doing nothing.

Essentially, I knew it was his day off. Or at least it was his downtime after being at it twenty-four f*ckin’ seven for over a month.