The Man Who Has No Heart

by Victoria Quinn

  “The wrong person. Cleo is not the wrong person.”

  “And you assume she’s the right person?” I snapped.

  “Absolutely. And you know it too, Deacon.”

  I couldn’t take his gaze any longer, so I looked away.

  He continued to stare.

  I shook my head. “Look… I’m broken. I’m not capable of giving another person that level of intimacy, of commitment. I just started over. I need time.”

  “Deacon, you don’t have to marry her. And you already do give her that level of intimacy and commitment. I’ve seen you two together—”

  “It’s not the same.” I grew frustrated again, forced to think about things I never entertained. I liked the relationship Cleo and I had, where we were friends…close friends. I had someone good in my life, and I didn’t want to mess it up by making it more. The anger and bitterness from my marriage were still potent. I didn’t want anyone to expect anything of me, to be tied down to a woman. “You’ve said your piece. Now, I don’t want to talk about it anymore. And I don’t want to talk about it again.”

  Tucker stared at me for a while, like he was disappointed.

  I turned to the waitress and ordered another beer, trying to push away the thoughts.

  But my brother continued to stare.

  “What?”

  He shrugged. “Nothing…”

  Six

  Cleo

  I knew something was wrong.

  The second I stepped into his residence, I could feel the change in energy. It was subtle but unmistakable.

  He sat at the dining table and stared at his laptop, not acknowledging me…like this was five months into the past. “Hey…”

  He shut his laptop and didn’t look at me.

  “Where’s your—”

  “You must be Cleo.” His mother came into the room, dressed in a cream twinset, a diamond necklace, and tan slacks. Her short hair was curled, and she had an infectious joy to her personality. “I’m Margo.” She walked up to me, smiling, and shook my hand. “It’s so lovely to meet you.”

  “You too.” I shook her hand. “Are you excited to see the place today?”

  “Very much so.” She turned to Deacon and gave his shoulder a squeeze. “He showed me pictures, and it looks lovely.”

  He barely looked up at her.

  “Just let me grab my purse.” She walked down the hallway to the guest room.

  I turned back to Deacon.

  He got to his feet, wearing dark jeans and a black shirt. He slid his phone into his pocket and acted like I didn’t exist.

  What the fuck had happened?

  I wanted to ask, but now wasn’t the time.

  Margo returned, and we headed downstairs and got into the private SUV. I sat in the third-row seating and watched the two of them interact.

  “Wow, this is a nice neighborhood.” Margo talked to her son as if nothing was wrong, as if his behavior wasn’t peculiar to her.

  When he’d first arrived in Manhattan, this was how his personality was, cold and silent. So, maybe she didn’t notice the difference. Maybe I was the only one who noticed because he was different with me than everyone else.

  “When is Derek going to visit?” she asked.

  “Soon.” He didn’t say much at all.

  We pulled up to the building.

  “Oh wow,” Margo said. “It’s so close to you. I already like it.”

  We took the elevator to her floor and met with the real estate agent and the assistant I’d interviewed for several hours. She was the most qualified for the position, having multiple clients that I could verify.

  “Margo, this is Lily,” I said as I introduced them. “Lily and I have become very well acquainted over our series of phone calls, and I think she’s going to be a great fit for you.”

  “Like my own Cleo?” Margo asked.

  “Yes,” I said, noticing Margo’s high energy was so different from Deacon’s.

  “Let me show you around.” The real estate agent took Lily and Margo into the other rooms of the apartment.

  Deacon immediately walked away, moving to the floor-to-ceiling windows in the dining room. It was a scaled-down version of his condo, the same level of luxury on a much smaller scale. He looked out the window with his hands in his pockets. He still stood strong and rigid, his broad shoulders powerful, but there were subtle differences to his appearance, stuff only I noticed.

  This wasn’t the time to have an intimate conversation, but my concern got the best of me. I came to his side. “What’s wrong?”

  He kept his gaze out the window.

  I hated his coldness. It was so icy when I’d first received it, and I didn’t want to feel that frost ever again. I preferred his warmth, his chocolate-colored eyes, the way he relaxed around me when he was stern around everyone else.

  My hand went to his arm instinctively, my fingers gripping the large muscles of his frame, touching him like I had every right to do so.

  His body tightened at the contact, his jaw clenching at the same time. But then he closed his eyes and released the breath he was holding, slowly relaxing, like my touch brought him back to reality, away from the demons that haunted him.

  “Deacon.” I gently tugged on him, slowly turning him so he would look at me.

  His eyes moved to my face, ice-cold and brooding. He kept the expression for a few seconds, like he hated me. But then slowly, his gaze began to soften, and he looked at me with his usual warmth, like the sight of my face was enough to chase away his despair.

  “Talk to me.” I knew something had really gotten to him. It wasn’t just his mother’s presence in his residence or an error that happened at work. It was something that affected him on an emotional level.

  “Tucker and I had a fight…”

  “About?”

  He didn’t answer me.

  “Well, I’m sure you two will work it out.”

  He pulled his arm away from my grasp and bowed his head. “Our relationship is fine. I just didn’t like the conversation.”

  “You can tell me about it.”

  He shook his head and looked out the window again.

  I turned my gaze to the view too. “How are things with your mother?”

  Her voice could be heard on the other side of the apartment. “Oh my god, these countertops…”

  “They’re fine,” he answered. “She talks a lot.”

  I smiled. “It sounds like she likes the place, so she won’t be with you long.”

  “Yeah.”

  After they were done, they came back into the living room.

  “Alright, let’s do it,” Margo said. “It’s the perfect size for me, it’s close to both of my sons, and that view!”

  Deacon turned away from the window and walked toward his mother.

  “You like it, honey?” She rubbed his arm up and down.

  “Yes,” he answered. “But your opinion is the only one that matters.”

  She gave him a side hug, a foot shorter than him, like she was hugging the trunk of a powerful tree. “I have the best kids. This one is letting me live with him until I get settled. Isn’t that sweet?”

  “It is,” Lily said. “You have a great son.”

  “I do.” She rose on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek.

  I smiled at the interaction.

  Deacon accepted the affection, plastering on a fake smile.

  “So, let’s do it.” Margo pulled away. “I don’t want to let this place slip through my fingers.”

  I didn’t see Deacon for days, so I never had a chance to talk to him about what had happened. I suspected if we were alone, the conversation would have gone much deeper, down to the root of the problem.

  Because he told me everything.

  Since his mother was staying with him, I decided to deliver fresh flowers to the residence without asking Deacon’s permission. It was only temporary, and he might change his mind now that he was more comfortable with me.

  I set
the vase on the coffee table, beautiful white lilies accompanied by blush roses and green hydrangeas.

  His footsteps sounded down the hallway.

  I turned the flowers on the coaster, making them perfect before I straightened.

  He was in his sweatpants without a shirt.

  I assumed that meant he was alone. “I thought your mother might like these while she’s here.”

  He stared for a second before he sat at the dining table.

  I carried a second vase to the center of the dining table, which wasn’t in his way.

  He didn’t complain.

  “Where is she?”

  “With the designer.” He was a little cold to me, but he must have realized it, because he turned away from his laptop and looked at me. “She’ll like the flowers.”

  “I think so too.” I grabbed the stems and adjusted them, making sure they were perfect. “Maybe you’ll change your mind about having them in the condo when she’s gone.”

  “No.”

  I waited for an explanation.

  “Valerie used to have flowers in the house. They make me think of her.”

  Now I understood.

  He turned back to his computer.

  “How are you?”

  He didn’t stare at his computer for long. His attention was back on me, his jaw showing some stubble, his hair getting a little long, like he needed a haircut. “Fine.”

  “We didn’t really have a chance to talk the other day. I wanted to make sure you’re feeling better.” I moved into the chair across from him, studying his gaze, analyzing his mood. It was such an abrupt flare-up that I wasn’t sure how to handle it.

  He dropped his gaze for a few seconds, taking the time to process what I’d said. He raised his gaze again. “I told Tucker about some things Valerie did when we were married…and I just got upset about it.”

  “Oh…”

  “I try not to think about it, but he provoked me.”

  Why would Tucker question Deacon about something he clearly didn’t want to talk about? “Well, I’m sure it’s over now…don’t need to worry about it anymore.”

  “Yeah.” His arms rested on the table, his hands together.

  “You know, you can always talk to me about those things…if you just need to get it off your chest.”

  His brown eyes were glued to mine, deep and beautiful, so intelligent and so soft at the same time. He always took in my words like soil absorbing rain after a long drought, getting every drop. “I know, Cleo.”

  “Getting over my divorce was hard too. Took me a while.”

  He hung on every word. “How long did it take you?”

  I shrugged. “When someone hurts you like that, do you ever really get over it?” I would probably always be insecure, always be afraid a lover would betray me because I was so dedicated to my job. “Honestly, I haven’t really been with anyone since my divorce, at least not anything serious. Just a fling here and there…”

  His eyes didn’t move from my face. “So, you aren’t ready for something serious?”

  I didn’t understand the question, didn’t understand if there was more to his inquiry than it seemed…or I was just hoping for more. “After you’ve been burned, you’re never ready for a serious relationship—unless it’s with the right person. I think you’re more selective in who you spend time with, making sure you don’t pick the wrong person again.”

  He continued to stare.

  “I know your divorce is still fresh and she caused you a lot of turmoil, but none of it was your fault. You tried to do the honorable thing by marrying her, but she was taking advantage of you and manipulating you from the beginning. Not all people are evil like that, Deacon. And I have to remind myself that not all men are cheaters…it just takes time.”

  He rubbed his fingers across the shadow along his jawline. “Yeah…just takes time.”

  I stepped off the elevator and stilled when I saw Tucker outside my door.

  I had a bag of groceries in my hand after picking up items on the way home from the office. It took me a few seconds to comprehend he was there, because we hadn’t seen each other since I broke things off.

  I hoped he hadn’t come to change my mind. “Hey.” I walked toward him.

  “Let me get that for you.” He took the bag from my hand so I could get my keys.

  I was a little nervous, so I fumbled with my keys before I got the door open. “What brings you here?”

  He stepped inside. “Wow, it looks totally different in here.” He glanced at the flowers then carried the bags to the counter.

  Deacon’s flowers were on their last legs. I kept adding fresh water and plant food to keep them alive because I wanted to keep them forever. “Yeah. Deacon got me a housekeeper—as a thank-you for everything with Derek.” I set my purse and keys by the door.

  “That was nice of him.” He left the bag on the counter and walked back toward me.

  “Yeah, he’s a sweetheart.” He made every day shine, gave me something to look forward to at the office.

  “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about…” He rubbed the back of his neck as he stood in front of me, like he was dreading the conversation about to take place.

  “Okay…”

  He dropped his hand and slid it into his pocket. “I know this is weird because we used to date, and it’s also weird because it’s none of my business, but my brother is…difficult…and I want to help him out.”

  Now, I was even more bewildered.

  “I know you ended things with me because you’ve got it bad for my brother.”

  My eyes widened at the accusation.

  “And that’s fine,” he said quickly, raising his hands to calm me. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it before, see the way the two of you click so well together. So, I talked to Deacon about it and…” He shook his head.

  I was mortified. Completely mortified. I covered my face with my hands, wanting to dissociate from this moment, to pretend it wasn’t happening. “Oh my god, you didn’t…” I breathed into my hands.

  He grabbed my wrists and pulled them down. “I told him to go for you—”

  “I don’t have feelings for him, Tucker. I can’t believe you said that to him…”

  He gave me a meaningful look, completely skeptical. “Cleo…come on.”

  “I don’t.” I lied through my teeth, lied to save my pride.

  His eyes softened. “I know you do. And I know he does too.”

  I started to breathe hard, my heart rate suddenly explosive.

  “I thought he would make a move on his own, but he never did. So, I asked him about it—”

  “That was the fight you had, wasn’t it?” That was why Deacon was so cold to me, turning back into the mean man he used to be.

  “The conversation was a bit intense…yeah.”

  This was getting worse.

  “Anyway, I wanted to explain why—”

  “He doesn’t need to explain why he doesn’t want to be with me, Tucker. Our relationship is professional, and it should stay that way.”

  “Could you just let me talk?” he snapped.

  I turned quiet, crossing my arms over my chest.

  “He told me some stuff about his relationship with Valerie…and I had no idea it was that bad. I had no idea how toxic it was, how miserable he was. He never tells me stuff like that, but he just exploded…”

  I didn’t want to know the details. It would just hurt. That man didn’t deserve anything except the best.

  “And he said he doesn’t want to be in a relationship again, that it’s just too soon for him, that he thinks every relationship will be like what it was with Valerie. I tried to talk him down, explain to him that it won’t be that way again…but he was unwilling to listen.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because I want you to be patient with him. Just give him some time. He’ll come around.”

  My heart was still racing.

  “I thin
k you’re the right person for him…and I feel stupid for not realizing that sooner.”

  My eyes softened. “So…he knows how I feel about him?”

  He shook his head. “Every time I try to tell him, he says I’m making assumptions when I shouldn’t be. You know how he is, he takes everything literally. Unless you look him in the eye and say it straight, he’ll assume your feelings are unknown.”

  I sighed in relief, grateful Deacon couldn’t see what was right in front of his face. “Thank god.”

  “I see the way he is with you, the way he lights up when you walk into the room, the way he’s so comfortable with you…the way he talks about you. I’ve known him his entire life, and I’ve never seen him that way with anyone.”

  “If that’s the truth, why did he let you date me?”

  He shrugged. “He’s never actually told me he has feelings for you—he dances around it.”

  Sadness hit me hard. “So, you’re making an assumption…”

  “Yes. But come on.”

  “Deacon isn’t like other men—”

  “I realize that. But I think he does. Whether he truly realizes it or not, the feelings are there. So, I think if you gave it enough time, he would be open-minded about having a relationship again. He’s just so burned by Valerie…”

  “I know. But you have to keep in mind, they’ve only been divorced for a few months. That’s not that much time. It took me a year to really feel good again.”

  “That’s understandable.”

  “And Deacon is deep and complicated, he responds to things differently than we do. His memory is a million times stronger than ours, so while it’s been months of separation, to him, it’s like it just happened. I appreciate what you’re trying to do…but Deacon might need years to recuperate.”

  His eyes filled with disappointment.

  “Deacon is my boss anyway. I can’t date one of my clients. We have a strict policy about that.”

  He sighed.

  I felt the disappointment hit me hard, realized how much I wanted Deacon when I couldn’t have him, realized how invested I was in him as a man because he gave me so much joy. And it hurt. “It’s just not meant to be…”