Caged (Mastered, #4)(128)

Warren glared at his mother. “What is wrong with you? Why would you say something like that when it’s not true? Deacon is one of the best fighters in MMA. He’s trained for years to learn the skills to take him to the top. I don’t get why none of you ever talk about all he’s accomplished. He’s the shit.” Embarrassed by his outburst, he dropped his angry gaze to his phone.

Silence.

Molly kept her mouth shut even though she sided with Warren. Deacon was the shit. He’d made a name for himself and he’d done it on his own. There should be a lot more family pride than the minute amount she’d seen. She’d bet a cool Benjamin that Warren’s folks had no idea before tonight that their son followed his cousin’s fight career.


“I believe it’s time to make our way to the dining room,” Deacon’s mother trilled.

Molly didn’t speak to Warren until the room cleared out. “Deacon is an amazing fighter. And I’m glad there’s at least one person in his family who recognizes that. Thank you.”

Warren looked up at Deacon. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to put you on the spot.”

“You didn’t.”

“I wasn’t supposed to come tonight, but I just had to meet you. I’d give anything to watch you fight,” he blurted out.

Deacon grinned. “Yeah? I can get you a VIP ticket; you just gotta get to the event.” He flicked his gaze over Molly’s shoulder. “I imagine my dad will come to the Watson fight since he missed the Needham fight. See if you can’t hitch a ride with him. He’s probably taking the JFW company plane, so you wouldn’t have to shell out for airfare.”

“Oh, man. Seriously? That would be so freakin’ epic!”

“I’d wait to ask. Doesn’t seem like your folks are down with your interest in MMA.”

It seemed more like Warren’s parents weren’t down with his interest in his cousin. Why?

“Move it, Deacon,” Bing said sharply. “Your mother went to a lot of trouble to plan this meal.”

Molly noticed Bing hadn’t said cooked this meal.

Be nice. The woman just had surgery.

But given what she knew of Deacon’s mother? It’d be a struggle to be civil to the woman who’d caused her man so much pain and suffering.

Deacon took hold of Molly’s hands and pulled her to her feet, then towed her behind him down a hallway.

Molly’s nerves returned when they entered the large dining room with a long table that could comfortably seat fifty. But all the dinnerware was laid out at one end. Two uniformed servers remained at attention.

“Down here.” Deacon’s father waved at him.

With only one empty seat across from Deacon’s mother, that put Deacon on his father’s right side but no place for Molly to sit.

Please don’t abandon me.

Deacon paused behind the chair, pointedly looking down at the seat his aunt Annabelle occupied.

How could the woman act so unaffected by Deacon’s steely-eyed stare? Molly had nightmares about him looking at her with such disdain.

“Annabelle, I think what Deacon is too tactful to ask is if you would mind moving so he can sit by Molly?”

Tactful—not a word often attributed to Deacon. She bit back a laugh.

“Of course. I should sit next to Warren so he doesn’t get it in his head that golf is lame. An excellent golf game equates to excellence in the business world.”

“No wonder Deacon never had a head for business; his golf game was dismal,” Clive said behind them.

Luckily, Annabelle’s husband still held the seat to her right, so Clive had to sit elsewhere. Molly smiled at Derek and waited for Deacon to pull out her chair. When she looked around, she noticed Deacon’s gentlemanly behavior surprised his family. Why? Did they think because he was a tattooed fighter that he’d forgotten his roots or even common courtesy?

Don’t glare at them for their ignorance where Deacon is concerned, or you’ll be glaring at them all night.

She checked out the beautifully arranged table. Three plates of graduated sizes made up each place setting. The plates had wide silver rims, a four-leaf clover at the top, and a fancy scripted W at the bottom. The two forks, two knives, and two spoons were real silver. The bright purple silk napkins matched the tiny vases of fresh flowers centered above each place setting. Baskets of bread and pats of butter in the shape of flowers were scattered down the center of the table. Obviously a lot of planning had gone into the presentation of the table, so Molly wondered if the food would be as impressive. What if they served a fish mousse or something she couldn’t choke down?

Deacon nudged her and she looked up at him. “Julianne asked you a question.”

“Pardon?”

Julianne flashed her a brittle smile. “Wine?”

“No, thank you.”

“Deacon, you’re sure you can’t have even one glass? This is an excellent Malbec.” Julianne held out her glass for Bing to refill.

“He has a one-drink limit when he’s in training, remember?” Bing said.

“Oh, right. Never mind. I’ll drink your share.”

“You don’t have alcohol restrictions while taking medication after your surgery?” Deacon asked.

“Not for such a minor procedure,” Derek said. “Julianne was only in the surgery center for an hour. She could’ve still made her four-o’clock tee time.”