Chapter and Verse

by Jo Willow

  “What’s with the newspapers? My conversation isn’t stimulating enough?”

  I gave him a grin and then placed my hand over his.

  “I saw Melody at the supermarket.”

  “Does she have you chipped or something? I wondered why your place was so quiet. I put your clothes in my closet by the way. The three drawers on the right side of my dresser are yours too. Your bathroom stuff is next to the sink on the right.”

  “So essentially you’re telling me you moved me in.”

  “I brought your laptop and it’s plugged in in my office, so yeah. I guess you live here now. Cool, eh?”

  I leaned over and kissed him.

  “Very cool, but let’s get back to Melody.”

  “If we must.”

  “We must. After she insulted my wardrobe choices, she said we needed to do damage control and recommended that we read the papers. Note I said, ‘papers’ plural and not ‘paper’ singular. It seems we made quite a splash last night. Well I didn’t, but you two did...”

  “Yeah, you just stood there and swayed. Nice touch by the way.”

  “Screw you Deacon. The point is, we’re on the paparazzi's radar screen.”

  “So? I’ve always been on their radar screen.”

  “True. But have you ever been angry and on their radar screen?”

  The visual hit home and he reached for one of the papers while I picked up another.

  We didn’t have to turn many pages in our respective papers before the photographic proof of the event gobsmacked us. I looked up and saw the muscles in his clenched jaw working, as his eyes scanned the page.

  “This is slander. I’ll sue their asses off and shut the bastards down.”

  I couldn’t imagine that what he was seeing was worse than what I was looking at, and what I was looking at was the truth of what happened.

  He stood abruptly, clutching the newspaper in his hand.

  “Bring those and meet me in my office.”

  I felt like a misbehaving school kid being led to the principal’s office. I followed obediently down the hall to one of the guest rooms that was now a den-slash-office. My laptop sat on the coffee table, so I sat down on the sofa in front of it. He took his throne behind his desk and started typing on his computer keyboard.

  I began the short version of events that the paper described.

  This would be a good time to describe what I was looking at. The photo was black and white, but it was telling. Only my back and braid were visible and I couldn’t help but think that my ass looked hot in that dress. I needed to thank Melody later. The scary part of the photo, the part that had Deacon’s undies in a bundle, showed him leaning forward in an intimidating pose, his hands clenched into fists at his side. You could barely make out Miranda’s shocked form standing slightly behind him at his side. The side opposite the camera’s view. Hamm was leaning forward as well, his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed almost in a dare. I remembered the moment well. The brief description ran beneath the photo.

  ...Deacon Sloan (self confirmed bachelor and confirmed millionaire), made an otherwise potentially boring affair interesting last night when he confronted the award presenter, Henry Hamilton Greenlee III, and his date, well known author Dorothy Lincoln. An unidentified source close to the action, told us that he ditched his date and demanded that Mr. Greenlee relinquish Miss Lincoln because, and we quote, “She’s mine”. There are no reports of Miss Lincoln’s response...

  As far as I could tell, that about summed it up. I looked up at Deacon who was scowling at his computer monitor.

  “Deacon, lose the scowl or your face will freeze that way.”

  He didn’t look at me, but he replied.

  “Dor’, the photos are all over the internet. As well as photos of you walking in with Henry and Miranda and I arriving together. They also have one of that interloper kissing you in front of the elevator. You let him kiss you?”

  “Don’t you dare go there with me Sloan. It was a simple kiss goodnight. It meant nothing.”

  He turned the scowl on me, but then he smiled at my expression.

  “Of course it meant nothing. You’re mine.”

  “So the paper says. Did yours mention an ‘undisclosed source’?”

  “Yes it did. Who do you think ratted us out?”

  “Oh puhleeze Deacon. It was Miranda.”

  He started shaking his head in denial.

  “No way. She signed a nondisclosure when I hired her. She wouldn’t dare.”

  “I’m no wizard of Wall Street like you are, but I’m pretty sure that agreement only pertained to your business secrets.”

  His face faltered for a second and then certainty returned.

  “Nope. She wouldn’t do that to me.”

  “Do you remember anything that happened last night once you two came back here?”

  I could see in his eyes that he was searching for something and failing miserably.

  “Deke, you humiliated her and fired her. Haven’t you ever heard that expression about a woman scorned?”

  “I’ve scorned hundreds of women Dorothy and not one of them pulled a stunt like this. Why would Miranda be the first?”

  I let that first part slide for now and addressed his question.

  “She’s been with you longer than any of the others. She was in love with you Deacon and you made her feel as insignificant as the mouse pad on your desk.”

  “Woman, who’s side are you on?”

  I shoved the remaining papers onto the seat beside me and walked around his desk. I leaned over and kissed him softly before I put my forearms on his shoulders and my forehead against his.

  “Yours. I’m always on your side. Don’t forget that. I’m merely trying to help you understand why Miranda had motivation for taking a parting shot at the man who shot her down.”

  He kissed me back and sighed.

  “You really think Miranda did this?”

  “I do. I think it was a cheap shot, but she hit both of us with one swing. You’ve got to admire her ingenuity.”

  “I don’t have to admire anything. What should we do?”

  “Unless Hamm jumps in with his two cents, and he won’t, we do nothing. It’ll either become self evident soon enough or they’ll find someone else to stalk. I say we leave it alone instead of making it worse.”

  “How do you know that Hamm isn’t the one that gave them the details?”

  I leaned back and perched on the edge of his desk facing him, my hands braced on the surface beside me.

  “I know Hamm. It wouldn’t be...civilized.”

  “Civilized?”

  “He’d never do anything that might tarnish the family name. I’ve known him a long time. Trust me.”

  He turned back to his computer screen and mumbled.

  “You I’d trust with anything. He’s a weasel that kissed my woman.”

  I giggled and leaned over behind him, resting my face on his shoulder next to his and looked at the pictures of us on his screen.

  “Did you really threaten to become the Hulk last night or was I imagining it?”

  “He pissed me off Dor’. The guy had it coming and quit laughing at me.”

  I couldn’t stop giggling as I kissed his cheek. He swiveled around and I took a step back.

  “Would you have invited him up to your apartment if I hadn’t interrupted you two?”

  Whoa. Where had that come from? The conversation was turning serious and I was unprepared. I thought this part would come later, but there was no time like the present.

  I resumed my leaning position against his desk and he watched my face while he waited for my reply.

  “I don’t know is the honest answer. If I had, it would not have been for the reason your assuming. I’m not physically attracted to Hamm anymore, Deacon. If I’d invited him up, it would have been for a drink or coffee and to catch up like old friends.”

  “He doesn’t see you as just an old friend Dor’. You’re not that naive.” />
  “You’re right, I’m not. But like I said, I know Hamm. If I’d rebuffed an advance, he wouldn’t have tried another one. There’s mutual respect between us and he’s not that kind of guy.”

  Deacon seemed to understand and accept my answer. My turn.

  “What about Miranda?”

  “What about Miranda? She followed me all the way into my bedroom and nothing happened. You know, you were there.”

  “I was there for the end of it, but what happened before you got home?”

  “I’m not following you.”

  I walked around the desk and took a seat in one of the chairs facing him. I crossed my legs and continued.

  “The gala ended at what, ten? Eleven? You didn’t get home until one o’clock. Where were you two?”

  He blushed and looked at his desk.

  “Deacon?”

  “We rode around in the limo drinking champagne.”

  “And?”

  “And what? It doesn’t matter Dor’. I was drunk and upset. I came home and we’re together now. That’s what matters.”

  “Back it up Chuck. Something happened, I can tell by the look on your face. If she’s got a surprise she can slam me with later, I’d rather hear it from you now. Out with it.”

  He tugged on the neck of his t-shirt and I knew that whatever it was, it was bad. I braced myself and remembered what he’d just said. We were together now. Together as in, “Us”.

  I waited, my eyes never leaving him. Finally, he raised his eyes to mine and I saw the truth before he spoke it. He was already planning damage control. He cleared his throat and his eyes begged for understanding and forgiveness before he’d spoken a word.

  “I could say she kissed me, but that would be the pussy way out and I won’t go there with you. From here on out there’s nothing but honesty between the two of us. Understand?”

  “I understand. Now tell me the story.”

  He leaned forward over his desk, resting on his forearms.

  “I was pissed and miserable. You’d left with the worm and we left shortly after. My plan was to drop her off at her place and go get plastered somewhere. She saw disaster written all over that, and suggested that we ride around and drink in the limo. I agreed. It worked at first. I relaxed and had a nice buzz going. When I crossed the line into drunk, she climbed on my lap and straddled me.”

  I never saw that coming. I wasn’t sure I was ready for the rest of the story, but I couldn’t stop him now. He was in confession mode and I needed to hear the ugly truth of it.

  “She untied my bow tie and started kissing me. I grabbed her ass and pulled her closer and that’s all she needed. She shoved her tongue in my mouth and went for broke. When the reality hit me, I got pissed and pushed her away. She must have felt my anger because she hit the intercom button and told the driver to take us back to my place. You know the rest.”

  Now I understood why she was so upset. He’d given her mixed messages all night. First he’d asked her to go with him as his date, then he verbally attacked Hamm over me, and finally, he’d kissed her and grabbed her ass in the limo. I’d have been confused and upset too.

  My emotions warred with my intellect. Yes it was ugly, but it was the truth and he’d told me himself. Would I be having different feelings if he’d told me they’d had sex in the backseat? Probably. Did I cut him some slack because he was drunk? No way. I’ve never bought the, “But baby I was drunk” bullshit. Drunk or not, you’re responsible for your actions and he was taking responsibility for his. I had to give him credit for that, because he could have lied and I would not have known the difference unless Miranda blind-sided me with the truth. Only one question remained. How was I going to respond to his admission?

  I loved him and he loved me. That was no longer a speculation, it was fact. We were both free agents last night and we’d both hurt one another on purpose. He put his arm around Miranda and I’d spent the evening on the dance floor with Hamm in response. Hamm and I had shared a kiss goodnight, the proof was on page three and on the internet for everyone to see. The only difference I could see, was that Miranda tried to take advantage of Deacon’s lack of sobriety and Hamm was a gentleman. It changed nothing between Deacon and myself. He’d obviously not planned to take it further, because he threw her out once he’d gotten home.

  After making peace with myself and my decision, I looked into his nervous eyes.

  “Thank you for telling me the truth.”

  There was shocked silence while he digested my response.

  “You’re thanking me?”

  “You told me the truth and I appreciate it, so yes. I’m thanking you. Tell me something Deke. What were you expecting me to do?”

  “I don’t know. Stab me? Leave me? Threaten to take our children and never return?”

  “You forgot about Spock. Do you honestly think I’d leave Spock with you?”

  He grinned and came around the desk. He pulled me to my feet and wrapped me tightly in his arms.

  “This is why I could never love anyone but you Dorothy Lincoln. You know I’m a fuck up and you love me anyway.”

  I pulled back and looked up at him, my arms still wrapped around his waist.

  “Understand something asshat. You’re getting a pass because last night was a disastrous anomaly. If we decide to make this thing permanent and you pull another stunt like that, the ending won’t be the same. I’ve accepted your past and I can forgive last night. But if you pull this on me once we’re a couple, that lone wolf release clause I mentioned before, will go into effect. Are we clear?”

  “Crystal clear and I agree. You don’t know me well enough to know this yet, but once I commit, it’s for good. I’ll never cheat on you Dorothy. I may piss you off and make you want to tear your hair out, but I’ll never cheat.”

  I believed him. He had the truth of his convictions in his eyes. He may be a man, but he was an honorable man. I kissed him and it evolved into something hot and possessive. He pulled me in tight and our world settled back on it’s axis. I mentally put last night into my “Stupid shit I’d like to forget” file.

  I stepped back and grinned at him. He grinned back. He pushed a lock of hair back behind my ear and touched my cheek.

  “We’re gonna make beautiful babies Dor’.”

  I jumped back and blinked. He kept on smiling.

  “Deacon quit talking about babies, you’re making me nervous.”

  He chuckled and I scowled. He chuckled some more. I changed tactics.

  “You sit down and call your family. You need to explain those photos. I’m gonna go in the kitchen and call mine, then I’ll start dinner. When you’re done, join me and I’ll put you to work.”

  He never moved, but his grin got bigger.

  “You’re sexy when you’re bossy. Have you ever worn leather?”

  I blushed as I grew flustered and started wringing my hands. His laughter followed me out the door.

  I could feel my father smiling over the phone as if he’d won the lottery. The photos didn’t bother him in the least.

  “I knew he was the one when you introduced us. Deacon Sloan. I couldn’t have chosen better for you myself Dorothy.”

  “Daddy, what’s that supposed to mean?”

  I hadn’t called him that since I was ten years old. I pulled it out when I needed to knock him off guard and make him all warm and fuzzy. It’s hard to make Brian Lincoln warm and fuzzy. He rivaled Deacon in the business world, and he wore his power like a well tailored suit.

  “It means that you’ve met your match. Your sister would have let him walk all over her because of his good looks and his money. You’ll stand your ground because of who you are. This is a match made in heaven.”

  I began pulling ingredients from the fridge, the phone balanced between my shoulder and my ear.

  “Yeah well that’s all good in theory, but don’t send out the invitations yet. We’re staying here in his apartment until we work out the ground rules and figure this thing out. Thin
k of it as a cage match with no winner. I’m hoping we both walk out alive, but it’s not a given.”

  He started laughing and I smiled. My father’s laughter was rare, and to know that I caused it made my insides glow.

  “I’ll let you get back to the wolf. Dorothy?”

  “Yeah dad?”

  “I have faith in you two. You’re good people. Remember that you love one another and everything else will fall into line.”

  My eyes teared up and I sniffled.

  “Thanks Daddy. I needed to hear that. Kiss Mom for me and I’ll call you two next week.”

  “I’ll hold you to that baby. Don’t take any shit Dorothy. You’re a Lincoln.”

  Now THAT sounded like my father. I laughed and gave him my word. We both hung up in good spirits and I started making meatballs.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I looked at the notebook he’d given me and the things I’d written down so far. It was actually going better than I’d expected. Deacon had raved over my culinary skills and we both overate. Now we were settled on the sofa, a bottle of wine on the coffee table, and we were getting down to the nitty gritty.

  So far, we’d revealed the hard limits for both of us (as far as relationships went) and there weren’t as many as I thought there would be. I knew that some would pop up unexpectedly as we encountered situations, but I think the major ones were laid out on paper. The best part was, we were listening to one another. Neither of us was passing judgement or belittling the other, we were taking hold and internalizing one another’s feelings.

  I took a deep breath and stretched and he reached for his glass.

  “I’d like to discuss something that we both have in common.”

  He took a sip and dipped his head, urging me to continue.

  “We’re both jealous to the point of self-destruction.”

  “Nice phrasing, what about it?”

  I put the notebook and pencil down and turned my body into the corner of the sofa so that I could ogle him. It was rapidly becoming one of my favorite things to do.