Deacon (Unfinished Hero #4)(77)

I did my best to stroke and scratch the gaggle of pups that were climbing about my legs, but I did this with my eyes to Deacon, watching the dog lick his jaw and not stop.

He looked to me.

“This one,” he decreed.

Absolutely.

That one.

“Boss Lady,” he stated.

Absolutely.

That was her name.

There was intensity in his eyes that tightened my stomach just like you feel right before going over the crest of a very tall climb on a roller coaster, loving where you are, excited about it, but you can’t wait to see what happens next.

“Boss Lady for my Cassie Boss,” he finished.

“Okay, honey,” I whispered, unable to make my voice louder.

The pup stopped licking him and started yapping.

Deacon straightened.

She stopped yapping. This was because she got what she wanted. I knew this when she started licking him again.

Deacon didn’t stop her.

And that soft, sweet cloud wrapped closer around me.

* * * * *

Two weeks later, I stood at the top of the steps of my porch, Bossy in my arms squirming, Deacon a step down, arms around both of us, making out with me.

I didn’t want it to end. Ever.

He ended it.

“Be back, soon’s I can,” he said gently.

“Okay, honey.”

“Okay.”

He touched his forehead to mine and moved one hand to my neck, fingertips back and in my hair, then he gave me a squeeze.

I drew in breath.

He let me go, scratched Bossy’s head, and she yapped.

He grinned.

I let my breath go.

His eyes came to mine and I smiled.

I kept smiling as he walked down the steps and got into his Suburban.

Bossy and I stood there as he started it up and drove down the lane, me waving, Bossy yapping.

Deacon turned right at the top of the lane.

Only then did my smile fade. I walked Bossy into the house, closing the door behind us.

I put my pup on the floor and Bossy yapped.

“He’ll be back, darlin’.”

She yapped again, unhappy.

She was not alone.

But he would be back.

And one day, one day I hoped was soon, he’d be back in a way he’d never leave.

Chapter Fourteen

Miracle

“He’s here,” I whispered, eyes to the window, watching the headlights gleam through the dark on my lane.

Bossy yapped.

I ran to the front door, stopped, and toed my baby back. “I get my reunion first.”

She protested by trying to attack the strap of my flip-flop.

I gently fended her off and quickly slipped through the door.

I walked to the top of the steps and stopped, my heart beating hard as I watched Deacon unfold from the driver’s seat. Then I watched him walk to me.

When he was at the bottom of the steps, I asked, “Did you eat?”

His eyes were on mine. Then again, they had been since he got out of his truck.

“Welcome to check the cab after you f*ck me hard and I crash, woman. Chip bags and shit all over. Evidence.”

He stopped one step down from me.

“I take it, you needing to crash, you didn’t sleep,” I noted.

He grinned at me.

He didn’t sleep.

Whatever.

I leaped into his arms.

His hands at my ass, my arms and legs around him, we kissed as he walked us into the house.

A week and a half, nothing but phone calls (these Deacon returned, if he didn’t answer right away). Then the call, the good call that said he was on his way home.

He used his boot to close the door and Bossy’s excited puppy demands came fast and furious.

Deacon broke our clinch to look down at our dog.

“Yo, Boss Lady.”

Bossy yapped.

His fingers pressed into my ass and I took that as a sign to let him go. When he put me to my feet, he bent, scooped up Bossy, and gave her a cuddle.

I smiled gleefully. Bossy licked his jaw gleefully.

That gave me more glee.

His eyes came to me.

“I put her in her crate; you go upstairs and get naked.”

I stopped smiling when my thighs started quivering.

“Now, Cassie,” he ordered gently.

I nodded, turned, and dashed up the stairs.

I was naked by the time Deacon joined me.

Boss Lady didn’t have a great night, cooped up in her kennel with Daddy just home.

But Deacon was back.

So mine was awesome.

* * * * *

“I’m unavailable,” Deacon said into his phone the next morning while standing at the stove, shuffling bacon in a skillet, Bossy attacking the hem of his jeans. “At least three weeks.”

At least three weeks.

Yippee.

I was pouring cereal and listening, mostly because Deacon wasn’t hiding this call, like he didn’t hide the call that took him away from me a week and a half ago.

I liked this. This was open, not covert, hiding, keeping things from me. No, this was Deacon giving himself to me.

Yes, I liked this.

I put the cereal box back and went for the milk.

“You need someone, call Raid and his team,” he continued.

Raid?

I poured milk.