Deacon (Unfinished Hero #4)(51)

“You do when you take off in a store that’s as big as three warehouses and I don’t know where you are.”

His head tipped slightly to the side and his brows drew slightly together before he asked, “Are we havin’ this conversation?”

In other words, this conversation was a conversation he felt was ridiculous.

I didn’t agree.

I lifted my hands and dropped them, saying, “Deacon, you took off and I didn’t know where you went.”

“Did it occur to you that I’d be back?” he returned.

“Not really,” I shot back, and I knew he got me because suddenly his face changed.

“Cassie,” he said softly.

“Okay,” I said briskly in order to cover the vulnerability I’d just exposed. “I’m the woman in your life, not your mother, so I’ll say this won’t happen often. But right now, it’s gonna happen.”

The softness in his expression changed, his lips twitched, and I wasn’t real fond of that (well, I was, just not right then) but I carried on anyway.

“It’s sweet, you drove hell bent to get to me but don’t ever do that again. You need to sleep and eat,” I bossed and kept going so he wouldn’t say anything that might tip my precarious mood, something I knew could happen because his lips were still twitching and now his eyes were dancing. “Second, if we’re at a store—a gigantic one, an average one, a fruit stand on the side of the road—you don’t take off without telling me where you’re going.”

“A fruit stand?” he asked and there it was. That sound I liked so much. The thread of humor reverberating in his tone.

“Don’t tease me when I’m borderline pissed.”

“Thank f*ck it’s only borderline,” he muttered, still teasing.

“Just saying, I go back to my trolley and one single pansy I selected has been taken by another customer, borderline will be a memory.”

“Can you do that without me at your side so I can get a ladder?”

I knew he was still teasing, I could tell by the glint in his eye that made him almost cute, if that could be believed.

I still didn’t like it (well, I did, just not right then).

“Are you gonna shove a woman who spent three weeks thinking that we were finished, and not liking it much, over the edge in a home improvement store?” I demanded to know, slamming my hands on my hips.

Half a second later, my hands were not on my hips. They were on Deacon’s flat abs because he moved, leaning in to me, hooking me at the back of my head, and yanking me into him so I had to throw my hands out to brace against impact.

My head tipped back and his came down, so close, the side of his nose brushed mine, his eyes were all I could see, and I could feel his breath against my lips.

“No,” he whispered.

That was it.

No.

No, he was not going to shove me over the edge in a home improvement store after I’d spent three weeks hurting because I thought we were over. No, he was not going to do that because Deacon just wouldn’t do that, but also because he regretted that I spent that time hurting. And no, he was not going to do that because he didn’t want us to be over either and he’d thought we were and he’d spent that time hurting.

He said that all through his no.

But mostly he said it through pulling me to him the way he did to whisper that one word to me.

Therefore, I leaned in to him to share how this made me feel and I did it without even giving him a word.

I figured he got me because I was learning Deacon was good at that.

He kept whispering. “This goes bad, Cassie, we’ll talk it out. I will not leave you wondering and I will never leave you hanging.”

“Okay,” I whispered back.

“You gonna return that favor?”

“I hope this doesn’t go bad,” I replied and saw his eyes fire, showing me he hoped that too, something I liked even better than standing close to him in the aisle of a home improvement store, which said a lot. “But if it does, I’ll definitely return that favor, honey.”

He held me close, looking into my eyes for several moments, before he murmured, “Good,” brushed his mouth against mine and let me go.

I teetered slightly when he did, and by the time I had myself steady, his attention was back to the ladders.

I watched Deacon studying the ladders. I looked to the ladders to see there were a goodly number of them, but only two tall enough to reach my gutters.

I looked back to him and asked, “How long is picking a ladder gonna take?”

He looked to me. “It’s gonna take as long as it takes.”

My brows went up. “I only have to grab some potting soil and plant food. In other words, I’m almost done. Can you give me a more accurate estimate?”

“You laid it out, woman, so I will too,” he stated. “You’re a woman who worries about her man eatin’ and sleepin’ and wants him to give her a heads up when he’s got somethin’ on his mind that he has to do and doin’ it means leavin’ her. You’ve also just become a woman who gives her man the time it takes to pick a ladder, whatever that time might be.”

I felt my own lips twitching and tried to hide it by lifting a hand and giving him a salute before saying smartly, “Aye, aye, captain.”