Vicious Cycle (Vicious Cycle #1)(27)

“Yeah, I’d be a dick to yell at you for just suggesting I read to my kid. I mean, that’s what parents do. Well, that’s at least what my mother did for me.”

It was the first time he had given me any insight into his childhood. I couldn’t help wondering about what Deacon was like as a little boy. I’d since learned that he was an adopted son of Beth’s. I was certainly curious about his life before he came to live with the Malloys.

After silence stretched momentarily between us, I replied, “I’m glad to hear you say that.”

“Now, what about Rev?”

“What about him?” I questioned coyly.

My comment earned me a scowl from Deacon. “What about dating him?”

“He seems very sweet, and he’s very good-looking. But …”

After he exhaled a trail of smoke, his eyes found mine in the dark. “He’s not like Bishop and me, if that’s what you’re worrying about.”

“How’s that?”

“He likes good women.”

“And after spending a couple of hours with me, you automatically know I’m good?” I countered.

“You’re sure as hell not a sweet butt.”

“A what?”

He grinned. “Sorry. I keep forgetting you’re not of our world, White-Bread.”

“Don’t call me that.”

After flicking off the growing ashes of his cigarette, Deacon said, “A sweet butt is a chick who gets off by hanging around an MC club and banging any guy who wants to be with her.”

Wrinkling my nose, I replied, “You’re serious?”

“Hell yeah.”

“Why would women disrespect themselves like that?”

Deacon shrugged. “That’s their business, not mine.”

“Well, you’re certainly right about me not being a club whore.”

“Which is a definite turn-on for Rev.”

“If Rev is so into me, why didn’t he walk me to my car?”

“Because he’s gun-shy with women. He got his heart broken by some bitch who never deserved him.”

“That’s awful.”

Deacon tossed his cigarette to the ground and then stomped it out with his boot. “He’s better off now, but he’s been through some rough times.”

“It’s very sweet of you to be looking out for him.”

“He’s my brother. I want him to be happy,” Deacon replied as he led me around the side of the clubhouse. When my car came into view, I quickly dug my keys out of my purse. After I popped the lock, I met Deacon’s expectant gaze.

“I think it’s best if I focus solely on Willow right now and not romance.”

His brows knitted tightly together. “So that’s a no?”

I shrugged. “I guess it’s more of a not right now. How’s that?”

“Not what I wanted to hear.”

With a laugh, I opened my car door. “Good night, Deacon.”

“Good night, Miss Evans.”

“Are you never going to call me Alexandra?”

“Maybe … just not right now,” he replied with a crooked smile.

When the antique cuckoo clock in the corner of the pawnshop struck three, I pushed myself out of my chair and tossed aside the Playboy I’d been eyeing. Thanks to Willow’s school hours and Case’s insistence, I now had a new routine. Every day at three, I would stand outside the pawnshop. As I had a cigarette, I waited for Alexandra to arrive. I could count on her arriving just about the time I had lit up and taken a few drags.

I usually got treated to an eyeful of her legs, since she always wore skirts and dresses to work. A cloud of her sweet-smelling perfume would hit my nostrils as I escorted her into the clubhouse to a waiting Willow. I’d spend the next two hours shuffling around the clubhouse, keeping an eye on the door to the “classroom” that Mama Beth had insisted the boys and I construct.

Three days into this new schedule found me propped up on a barstool, bored as hell and frustrated as hell since Cheyenne had been eye-f*cking me all afternoon. Finally, I gave up and escaped to the bathroom to pour some cold water on my half-mast dick. After all, there was no way I could sneak away for a quickie with Cheyenne when I was supposed to be keeping an eye on Alex.

When I returned, Willow stood at the bar, flashing a paper at Cheyenne, who gave her a look of disinterest. In Cheyenne’s world, if you didn’t have a dick or a cut, you weren’t much use to her. At the sight of me, she did manage to give Willow a beaming smile. For some reason, it made me angry that she couldn’t give my kid any welcome attention when I wasn’t in the room.

“Look, Deacon. Look what I made on my test!” Willow cried, dancing around me. I opened my mouth to say something, but she continued rattling on. “Miss Alex said this is some of the work that first graders are doing, and I’m really smart to be able to do it already.”

“Yeah, that’s great. Good job,” I said. My words fell a little short of the foreign feeling of pride that swelled in my chest. Sure, I’d done okay when I was in school, but nothing like Willow. She was gonna be something.

Willow threw her arms around my waist¸ squeezing me tight. I couldn’t help stiffening at her touch. She may have been with me for four months now, but I still couldn’t get used to her expressions of affection. I didn’t know what my f*cking problem was. Both Rev and Bishop reacted easily to Willow’s hugs and kisses. But here I was, her own flesh and blood, and I still felt emotionally detached from her. I was beginning to wonder if I would always feel this way.