Vicious Cycle (Vicious Cycle #1)(60)
I grinned. “I see.”
“Sometimes I wished he was Mommy’s boyfriend because he always treated me nicer than hers did.”
A low growl came from the back of Deacon’s throat. I knew if he could track down each and every one of his ex’s former boyfriends, he would put them in the ground for hurting Willow. To change the subject, I said, “Then I think we should honor Mr. Walter by naming this fine specimen of a dog after him.”
“Can I go show him to Grandma?”
“Of course.”
Grinning, she turned and ran down the porch. “Why do I have the feeling that I’m not going to see very much of Walter?” I asked with a smile.
Deacon shook his head. “He’s your dog, not hers. You both better remember that.”
“Oh, I’m sure the first time he poops in the house she’ll remember he’s my dog.”
With a laugh, Deacon replied, “Yeah, probably so.” When his gaze met mine, his expression turned serious. He held out his hand to me. “Come on. You need to eat something.”
“If you recall since you were at the table with me, I did eat some breakfast.”
He shook his head. “Barely enough to keep a bird alive. You’re never going to regain your strength unless you eat.”
His concern made my heartbeat quicken. Knowing I wouldn’t win the argument, I slipped my hand into his and let him pull me up from the swing. Hand in hand, we walked down the porch and into the house.
Friday evening found me hanging out in the Raiders clubhouse. With two pitchers of beer on the table, we celebrated my first full week returning to teaching after my attack. While Deacon was pretty adamant about not wanting me to go, he had to get it through his head that, unlike Willow, I wasn’t his to keep under lock and key at the compound. Instead, though he was reluctant, he had to entrust my safety to both Archer and Crazy Ace, who followed me to school each morning and then back to the compound each afternoon. The two prospects took turns during the day watching the school.
As I snuggled in to Deacon’s side, my gaze fell on the glittering antique diamond bracelet on my arm. Deacon had also been up front with me about the tracking device. But he wanted one that was on me at all times. That’s where the bracelet came in. Although he tried to make light of the gift, saying that he got it out of the pawnshop, I knew it was about more than just tracking me. It was a gift the same as Walter, who snoozed in my lap, had been.
More and more members came trickling through the door. The alcohol flowed along with the loud music blaring from the jukebox. While Kim and some of the other wives were friendly, there was still a strong line drawn between me and most of the club women, especially the sweet butts. Kim tried to ease my concerns by saying they always acted that way when one of the men got taken off the market.
One woman in particular worried me more than the others, and that was the bartender Cheyenne. Whenever Deacon was in the room, she only had eyes for him.
Trying to get my mind off of things, I stroked the top of Walter’s furry head. He opened his eyes to gaze at me drowsily before yawning. “You have such the hard life,” I teased.
Deacon reached over to scratch Walter’s ears. “He’s spoiled f*cking rotten. I’m not sure he can even walk, considering how much you and Willow carry him around. Hell, I even caught Mama Beth holding him in one arm while she ironed with the other.”
I laughed. “I won’t argue that he’s spoiled. I just didn’t realize you were jealous.”
He snorted. “I’m not jealous of a f*cking dog.”
“If you were, it would only be natural, considering he’s getting all the love and attention from the women in your life.”
He cocked his brows at me. “That’s a crock of shit, White-Bread.”
“Whatever, Jesse James,” I countered.
“Yo, D, wanna join us for a hand?” Crazy Ace called across the room.
“Yeah, deal me in.” When he started to ease out of his chair, I grabbed his arm. “What?” he questioned.
“It’s seven thirty. Have you forgotten about Willow and story time?”
Deacon grimaced. “Shit.” Backing away from the table, he said, “Gotta take a rain check, guys.” At their groan of frustration, he replied, “Trust me, I’d sure as hell rather be here with you than doing story time with my kid.”
“You’re a good man and father, D,” Kim said, patting him on the cheek.
He gave her a shy grin at her compliment. “Thanks.” Leaning down, he bestowed a chaste kiss on my cheek. “Be back in a few.”
Thrusting Walter toward him, I said, “You better take him with you. Willow will pitch a fit if he’s not with her at bedtime.”
With a sigh, Deacon took Walter in his arms. “More trouble than he’s worth,” he grumbled.
When he started past the bar, Cheyenne slinked out into his path. In a pair of daisy dukes that could’ve passed for a pair of my panties and a halter top that barely covered her breasts, she thrust a beer into his hand.
“What’s this?” Deacon questioned.
With a wink, Cheyenne replied, “Something to help you through story time.”
He grinned. “You know me too well, babe.”
At his familiar usage of the word “babe,” Cheyenne beamed. She cut her gaze from Deacon’s over to mine. A triumphant look flashed in her eyes. The familiar suffocating feeling washed over me.