by Ciana Stone
“Yes.”
“Mind if I ask why you left Wyoming?”
“It was time, sir.”
“You don’t have to call me, sir.”
“I feel a bit like I do. Mathias has talked about you so much, it’s something like meeting the President or a superhero.”
Deacon’s laugh sounded genuine and sexy as hell. “Neither, I assure you.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Mica was horrified once the words were out of her mouth. She shouldn’t be flirting with Commander Johns. Careful girl. You’re just a simple metalworker from the res. Don’t let your libido get you in trouble.
And yet, he didn’t seem offended. “Did Etta ask you to come see Mathias?” She asked quickly to cover her discomfort.
“She did.”
“That was kind of her.”
There was a momentary silence that should have been uncomfortable, but was sexually charged thanks to their gazes connecting. “May I try?” He ended the moment as he indicated the knives.
“Yes, of course. I was testing them to make sure the balance is right before I ship them to a friend of Matty’s.”
Deacon’s aim was true, and she was impressed. Not everyone had the knack of throwing a knife. He definitely did.
“These are good blades. Do you have others? For sale, I mean.”
“Yes, in the storefront. Would you like to see?”
“I would.”
“Wonderful. Just this way.” She led him into the front of the store and stood by the counter as he made his way around, looking at the various blades.
“This is unusual.” He lifted one blade from its stand. “Is the handle horn?”
“Yes, Buffalo and before you ask, it wasn’t poached. I know a man who owns a buffalo ranch and when an animal dies, he sells the hide, bones and horns. This one is a hunting karambit knife. Damascus steel with bolsters.”
“Out of curiosity, why the bolsters?”
“Several reasons. First, it provided a defined transition from the blade to the handle, and it also added strength and provided a counter-balance. “
“I’ve never seen a karambit hunting knife, only the small pocket knives.”
Mica was impressed with Deacon’s knowledge. “Well, technically I suppose I should say it’s karambit inspired since they’re typically more utility than hunting, but I’m attracted to the claw like shape.”
“It’s a beautiful blade. Do you also do the engravings on the blades?”
“Yes.”
“You’re very talented. Is this one for sale?”
“No.”
He looked a bit disappointed and then surprised when she said. “But I’d be honored if you’d accept it as a gift.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Of course you can.” Mica said and smiled. “You were an important part in my brother’s life for a long time and you were there for him during times that were tough for him. For that alone I owe you a debt that can never be repaid. The small gift of a knife can certainly be accepted as a token of thanks, yes?”
Deacon’s gaze connected with hers and in that moment Mica knew two things. The attraction was mutual, and Deacon was the man for her. The difference in their ages didn’t matter. She knew it as sure as she knew her name.
The question that troubled her was would he feel the same about her and if he did, could she pursue a relationship with him or would she end up leaving Cotton Creek and running again?
“Thank you, Mica.”
“You’re welcome, Commander.”
“Deacon.”
“Deacon. I’m so glad you stopped by. I know Matty will be sad he missed you. Perhaps you could come again?”
“I will. Have good evening, Mica and thanks again for the knife.”
“It’s my honor. Walk well, Deacon.”
He smiled, and she escorted him to the door. She watched as he left, got into a white pickup truck and backed up. He waved as he started forward and she returned the gesture then leaned against the door and watched him drive away.
“Deacon Johns.” She liked the way his name felt on her lips, the way it tasted on her tongue. The fact that he affected her so strongly was a surprise. Not many men did. In fact, no man had in a long time.
She’d heard a lot about Deacon but never in a million years would she have imagined that she would be so attracted to him. Now she wondered what, if anything, he thought about her.
Chapter Four
The moment the meeting with Grady, Mason and the engineer ended, Deacon excused himself and started the walk back to the ranch. Barring unforeseen problems and bad weather, the training center was on schedule to be completed in three months.
He knew it didn’t show, but he was excited about getting the center up and running. The truth was, he missed military life. Hell, that wasn’t the truth. He missed the action. But Deacon was smart enough to know that the action was better left to younger men. He might be fit, but his days in the field were a thing of the past.
A fact that sometimes annoyed the bloody hell out of him. At least with the new posting, he’d be back into a real training regimen because he didn’t ask of his men anything he wasn’t willing to do himself.
He hoped he wasn’t about to bite off more than he could chew with that attitude and prayed he’d be able to keep up. Damn if aging wasn’t a pain in his ass.
Like the deep seated irritation it gave him every time he thought about Mica Greyhorse. He didn’t know how old she was, but feared he was old enough to be her father, and a man shouldn’t be lusting after a woman young enough to be his child.
He knew that, lived by it. So, why was it that he couldn’t get her out of his head. It’d been three days since they met, and he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. Even now, he could picture her in his mind. That long flow of hair the color of midnight, braided into a shining plait, pulled back to bare a face that belonged in a dream.
Elegant arched brows crowned eyes that could pierce the strongest man’s defenses, laying waste to his shields and obliterating all resistance. He’d seen that pale grey color change. When they shook hands and she looked up at him. The color had deepened like a storm gathering strength.
The first time she spoke his name he had a mental flash. Call it a daydream or maybe a fantasy. Whatever label he assigned wasn’t important. The content is what counted. That fleeting glimpse of her looking up at him, wanting clear on her face and in her voice speaking his name.
He was honestly shocked at the power that memory held. Maybe he could have written it off as the imaginings of a middle-aged man if it hadn’t been for the one small detail. He knew she was interested. Age hadn’t robbed him of the ability to discern when a woman was attracted to him and God knew it was one huge boon to his ego. Still, she was too young.
Wouldn’t you know? There’d been plenty of ships in the storm, so to speak. Deacon had never been celibate, but he also was extremely discreet. Women came and went. He enjoyed everyone but was honest enough to admit that the couplings were more of need than attraction.
Attraction came in more than one form. There was minimal attraction, the kind that would last through the night, but no longer. Next came mild, which might endure a week. He’d had more than his share of those.
Twice in his life he’d had that moment. A shared look that left him with certainty that would withstand the ages. That assurance that this was what his heart sought and this was the woman he’d waited for.
The first time, he’d been eighteen, headed off to the Citadel. Her name was Iris and he’d married her the day after he graduated. They’d shared ten years. Years he was gone more than he was home. He lost touch with her and never really gotten to know his daughter, Rose. Like a fool, he didn’t even realize he was standing apart from the woman who’d captured his heart, and that when he was home he wasn’t really home.
Deacon knew the fault was his when he found out she was seeing someone else. He couldn’t even find it in himself to be an
gry that she wanted out of the marriage. It hurt that his daughter wanted nothing to do with him, but even that was understandable.
He hadn’t earned her love.
Since the day his wife walked out with their daughter, he’d been alone. Except for Etta. She came along and saved him by needing him. Deacon knew she would be whatever he wanted her to be and he let her. She became his entire family, the family he could finally care for, protect and cherish.
Then three days ago, he saw Mica and a chime sounded deep inside him and he knew. It had happened again. This was what his heart sought, and this was the woman he’d waited for.
And damn it all, he couldn’t have her.
Just his luck.
Now the question was, how the hell did he make himself stop thinking about her and what was he going to do about the dinner invitation Mathias had extended for Friday night? A home cooked meal by a sister who Mathias said was a pretty good cook.
Shit on a stick. Deacon had never been a man to back down from a challenge, run from an enemy or weaken in his resolve and yet he found himself considering calling Mathias and telling a bald-faced lie to get out of the dinner.
“Whoa.” Etta’s voice had him jerking to attention. She was walking toward him, and he had no doubt that she was aware he was in turmoil.
“What’s eating at you?” Her face registered concern.
“Normal things.” He kept walking and she fell in step beside him.
“Wow.” Etta stopped, and two steps later so did he.
“What?” He looked over his shoulder at her.
“I think that’s the first time you’ve ever lied to me.”
Busted his conscience crowed. Deacon resumed walking and she quickly caught up with him. “It must be something that you felt you had to lie.”
“I didn’t lie. It is a normal thing.”
“What kind of normal thing.”
“The kind that I’m not interested in discussing.”
“Fine.” Etta turned and headed away from him. For a few moments he just watched. Then he hurried after her.
“Hold up.” He took hold of her arm and stopped her.
“No, it’s fine.” She pulled free of his grasp. “You don’t want to talk about it and you certainly deserve your privacy, so I’ll leave you to it. I have things to do so I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a good evening, Deac.”
She’d just turned away when the words blurted out of his mouth. “I went to see Mathias.”
He could tell from the expression on her face when she looked at him that his statement concerned her. “And?”
“He wasn’t there.”
Etta put one hand on her hip. “Okay, I’m just plain confused. If he wasn’t there, then why are you upset?”
“Have you met his sister?”
“Mica? Yes.”
“Well, there you go.”
With that, he was the one to turn away and resume the walk home. He didn’t slow his pace or look back, he just made the walk to the house, climbed the steps, crossed the porch and opened the door.
Deacon knew she was following. After toeing off his boots and hanging up his hat, he went into the kitchen, took two beers from the refrigerator, opened both and placed them on the table. Etta sat and picked up one of the beers. One drink and she placed it back down.
“What did you mean by that?”
Deacon sat, took a long draught from his beer and then leaned his chair back on two legs and regarded her. “She’s a talented metal worker.”
“I know. Amazingly talented. So is Mathias. And?”
“Hell.” Deacon let his chair bang down onto all four legs. “Fine. The truth is, she got to me.”
“Got to you? As in you’re attracted to her?”
“Yes.”
“So?”
“So?” He couldn’t believe she was so indifferent. “She’s young enough to be my daughter.”
“Bull. Mathias is thirty-seven and she called him her baby brother so she’s at least thirty-nine and that makes her no more than y-nine, so she’s no more than thirteen years younger than you. Which means you are not old enough to be her father.”
“Thirteen years is too much of an age gap.”
“Bull.”
“It is. In my book it is, Etta.”
“Fine, then why are you barking at me? If you don’t want to have anything to do with her, then don’t.”
“I won’t.”
“But you want to.”
Had it been anyone else, Deacon would have delivered a scathing comeback. But it wasn’t anyone else. It was Etta and she knew him better than anyone. “God help me, as ashamed as I am of it, I do.”
“And what about her?”
“What about her?”
“Come on. You know when a woman is into you. Was the attraction reciprocal?”
“Yes, I think so.”
“Well, there you go.”
“Smart ass.”
Etta smiled, picked up her beer and stood. “Look, you’ll do what you think is right and goodness knows it’s one of the things I love about you, but would you do me a favor?”
“What?”
“For once, stop thinking about what’s best for people around you, what’s the right or honorable or smart thing to do and just go with your feelings? If you’re interested, then be interested and see what develops. If it’s something that’s meant to be more, it will be and if it’s not, it won’t.”
“Go with the flow?”
“Exactly.”
“That’s not my strong suit.”
“I know, but just this once consider giving it a try. You never know, Deac. She just might be the one.”
“I don’t know that there is another one for me.”
“But I believe there is, so indulge me.”
“Oh, so I should pursue this woman to make you happy?”
Etta walked around the table, leaned down and kissed Deacon on the cheek. “You should think about what makes you happy. For you and yes, for me, because you’re my family and I want you to be happy.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Good. Hey, we’re headed into town tomorrow for a night at the Honky Tonk. Riley Morgan’s band is playing. Charli’s on duty, but Grady said he’d join, so come with us.”
“Maybe. I’ll let you know.”
“Okay. Have a good night.”
“You, too.”
Deacon watched Etta leave, stilling holding her beer. He polished off what was left of his and walked outside. He’d always made it a policy not to get involved with women who were a lot younger. He might have a passing flirtation with someone younger, maybe even a liaison, but nothing of consequence. It was all just for a good time, or for sex.
What made Mica Greyhorse any different? She could be nothing more than another in a long line of one-night stands.
No. Even as the thought passed through his mind, he dismissed it. She wasn’t just someone. She was the woman who could be the one and the bare bones truth was, that scared the living daylights out of him.
He was adept at many things, good at some, great at others, but knowing how to love a woman the way she deserved was something apparently beyond his ken. And if he was being completely honest, he’d have to admit that something inside him was a little afraid that she might not just be the one he wanted, but that she could be the one who had the power to do what no other woman had ever done.
Break his heart.
From Ciana
I've been a reader my entire life, finding solace, excitement, happiness, fear and love in the pages of books. If anything has been a constant in my life, it's reading.
I also remember all of the times in my life when being able to buy a book was a luxury, a treat that I didn't get every week. I've never forgotten those times or how much those books meant to me.
That's why I am so grateful to you, the readers. Regardless of your level of income or profession, I understand how precious your reading dollars are and I feel humbl
ed that you've used some of those dollars to purchase my books.
I hope my stories prove worthy of your investment and thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Many blessings.
Ciana
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Books by Ciana Stone in reading order:
(Connected Books)
Honky Tonk Angels Series
Southern Comfort – Honky Tonk Angels, Book 1
Finding Justice – Honky Tonk Angels, Book 2
Baby I’m In. Honky Tonk Angels, Book 3
Ask me to Stay – Honky Tonk Angels, Book 4
Playing for Keeps – Honky Tonk Angels, Book 5
Lookin’ for Trouble – Honky Tonk Angels Book 6
Honky Tonk Angels Box Set
Legacy Series
Longing
Craving
Yearning
Untamed Series
Feels Like the First Time
When You Least Expect It
Colton’s Memory
Untamed: A Three Book Box Set
Rangers or The Whisperers
(Can be read in either order)
Rangers
The Whisperers
The Seven Box Set
Heartbreakers & Heroes
Grady Judd
Mason James
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Hot in the Saddle Box Set
Chase’n’ Ana
Stand-Alone Titles
Renegades
Let the Game Begin
Wrath: Voodoo's Angel
Wolfe Tale
That Which Survives
A Matter of Trust