Pia was still crying.
“I know, baby. I’m ready to get home, too. We’re almost there.” Turning onto their street, seeing the dark house, made her sad.
If she’d wanted, Deacon probably would’ve come over. Shared dinner and coffee, and helped her put Pia to bed. It was what might happen next that worried Ellie. Would they watch a movie? Talk about shared times with Tom? Plan for Pia’s future?
All of that sounded pleasant on the surface, but Ellie was terrified of allowing herself to get too close. She’d already once lost herself physically to Deacon. The last thing she wanted was to lose herself to him emotionally, as well.
Chapter Eight
“Deacon?” Ellie yawned into her phone a few nights later. “What time is it? Everything okay?”
“It’s 0315. Sorry to call so early, but I wanted you to know I’m heading out for a while. I won’t have another chance to talk.”
Pulse racing, she bolted upright in her bed. “Th-thanks for letting me…” It was impossible to speak past a knot of dread. Just when Pia was growing more and more attached to him, he was leaving. What if something happened to him? How would Pia cope with losing two fathers?
How would I cope with losing two men?
Though she and Deacon weren’t romantically involved, their lives were nonetheless entwined. Where did she start in explaining how much he’d come to mean to her?
“You know the drill.”
Unable to speak, she nodded. Silly. He couldn’t see her.
“I promised the peanut we’d see that new Disney movie Saturday. Think you can take her?”
“So you’re sure you won’t make it back by then?”
“Ell…” His tone said what she already knew from her time with Tom. Deacon couldn’t tell her a thing about where he was going or what he’d be doing.
“I understand. But we’ll save the movie for when you’re home safe.” Home. Such a loaded word. Was this Deacon’s home? The way she’d treated him, no. The way her heart ached at his leaving? Absolutely. But what did that mean? How did she begin making sense of feelings indecipherable even to herself?
* * *
“DIVE! DIVE!” Deacon’s commanding officer shouted.
Despite gunfire barraging his team, the last thing Deacon wanted was to even momentarily retreat, but he did as he was told, easing under black water. Hanging at a depth of fifteen feet, they were safe from anything shot from the cargo ship’s rail.
Though his dive mask was outfitted with night vision capabilities, the sensation of floating in darkness, hearing the muted cracked-whip sounds of bullets slicing the water, was an eerie experience. Deacon struggled to find his usual adrenaline rush. Instead of excitement charging his every move, something else drove him: a forbidden image of Ellie holding their little girl. He didn’t want to see her. She belonged to Tom. But there it was, stuck in his head with no sign of letting him go.
“Roll call,” said the commander over his radio.
One by one, members of Deacon’s team called in. They were all safe. All ready to kick modern-day pirate ass.
Ten minutes later, the bad guys were either dead or cuffed.
The ship’s captain and crew all talked at once, in at least twenty African dialects.
Job done, Deacon and the rest of his team turned over the operation to a waiting navy crew. Just as stealthily as SEAL Team 12 had arrived on the scene, they now vanished.
Deacon had never been more happy to be headed home.
* * *
“YOU’RE BACK!” At ten on a Thursday night, the last person Ellie expected to stroll through her kitchen door was Deacon, but boy, was she glad to see him. Without stopping to think if she should, she ran from where she’d been doing dishes at the sink to crush him in a hug.
“Damn,” he teased, holding her just as tightly, “if I’d known I’d get this warm of a welcome, maybe I should leave more often.”
“Don’t even think about it.” She stepped back, delivering a light smack to his chest, but he held her hand over his heart. Like hers, it was pounding.
“How’s our girl?”
“Sleeping. Finally. She missed you.” Unable to bear touching him any longer, Ellie reclaimed her hand, holding it against her as if she might retain his warmth. But why? She’d always had a certain physical fascination with Deacon, but nothing like this. Guilt tightened her chest.
“I missed her.”
And me?
Pressing her hands to her forehead, Ellie tried willing these ludicrous thoughts to stop. It happened. Widows crushing on their husband’s best friends, not out of real attraction, but because of that shared connection. Surely, that’s all this was?
Ellie trailed after Deacon to the nursery.
Standing before the crib, staring at their daughter, he whispered, “Look at the ruffles on that cute little rump. New jammies?”
“Gift from nana and papa.”
Curving his hand around Pia’s curls, he said, “John and Helen have good taste.”
In the hall, with the nursery door closed, Ellie asked, “Hungry? I roasted a chicken for dinner and there are plenty of leftovers.”
“Sounds delicious, but let me help.”
In under five minutes, they’d assembled a mini buffet on the counter. Ellie fiercely missed cooking for Tom—though just as often, he’d prepared meals for her. Maybe it was the sharing she missed most?
“Good Lord, this is delicious.” At the table, eyes closed while chewing his second bite of mashed potatoes, Deacon looked exhausted, but content. “Now that I’ve been at this SEAL thing awhile, MREs taste worse every mission.”
Ellie rose, going to a drawer she hadn’t opened since Tom’s last trip. It was filled with fast-food condiment packages. Every time she had any left over, she saved them for MRE seasoning. Cramming a Ziploc bag with everything from ketchup to Arby’s sauce to mayonnaise, she gave it to Deacon. “Sorry I haven’t been doing this for you all along. All the wives do. Not that you and I are…” She covered her face with her hands and she shook her head. “What’s wrong with me? The whole time you’ve been gone I’ve been a wreck.”
“Sorry.” Deacon studied the pack. “But this will be greatly appreciated. You can’t imagine how Garrett, Tristan and I envy the married guys for these.”
“Good. I mean, that you like it. I’ll start making them for all three of you and the other single men, and just drop them at the base.”
“That’d be nice.”
Awkward didn’t begin describing the silence hanging between them, yet the house wasn’t particularly quiet. The evening news played on the living room TV. The newly fixed washer thumped away, doing a load of Pia’s clothes. Ellie wanted to say so much to Deacon, but wasn’t sure how to express her innermost thoughts. Or even why she felt the need. Forcing a breath, she blurted, “Can we start over?”
“What do you mean?” he asked in midbite.
“I guess you leaving reminded me that no matter how afraid I am of Tom’s parents learning the truth about Pia, I’m even more terrified of Pia—” and me “—losing you.”
Their eyes locked and Ellie’s pulse took off at a runaway gallop. For the longest time, Deacon said nothing, but then he put down his fork and shocked her by taking her hand.
“The old me would’ve already been drinking at a bar, but the new me—Pia’s dad—wants you to know I’m not going anywhere.” He bowed his head. “Trouble is, we both know that’s not entirely up to me to decide.”
Unable to think with him touching her, Ellie nodded, but wasn’t a hundred percent clear on what he’d even meant. Was he referring to his dangerous job? Or something deeper—that he perhaps cared so much for Pia that he wanted to stick around, but needed Ellie’s permission?
* * *
�
�BABY, IT’S OKAY,” Deacon crooned in the theater lobby Saturday afternoon. Pia had been traumatized by a pretty freakin’ scary forest scene. What were those Disney people thinking? “Daddy’s not going to let any of those talking rocks hurt you.”
Or anything else, for that matter.
“Bad rocks,” his little girl said with a sniffle, hiding her face in the crook of his neck.
“I know.”
“Everything all right?” Ellie asked. Assuming this would be a quick fix, Deacon had left her inside, telling her he’d handle the situation. But calming Pia was taking longer than he’d expected.
“Getting there.” A few more jiggles had the toddler at least grinning through her tears. “Looks like we might need to change our plans.”
“Want to just go back to my place?” Ellie asked.
“No way.” Tickling Pia’s ribs, Deacon said, “Let’s get revenge on some evil rocks.”
Ten minutes later, he had buckled her into her safety seat and now sat beside Ellie, heading toward Cold Creek quarry. This was the first time he’d been with Ellie in Tom’s Jeep. Cars were personal. This one held memories for her as surely as one of Tom’s favorite sweaters.
“She’s sleeping,” Ellie said after a glance in the backseat.
“I feel bad.”
“Why?”
“For even taking her.” He upped the heat, aiming the vents toward Pia. “Bad parent move.”
“How were you supposed to know? What are you going to do? Preview every movie she ever sees?”
“If that’s what it takes to keep her smiling.” Veering onto the highway, he ignored Ellie’s stare.
“You do realize that’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said.”
“Why? Just because you don’t think it’s always possible to keep Pia happy?”
Hands clasped on her thighs, Ellie looked as if she was done with the conversation. Unfortunately, she changed her mind. “Of all people, you should know you have a zero percent chance of controlling every instant of Pia’s life. Movies are scary. Boys turn out to be jerks. Worse yet, they’re princes who ultimately die.”
“Way to ruin the day.” Never had he wished more for a nice, cozy bottle of Patrón. It didn’t talk back. And it sure as hell didn’t tell him he was wrong.
“Nothing’s ruined. I’m just keeping things real. You seem to have a fairy-tale view of parenting. Worse yet, a SEAL’s view.”
He tightened his grip on the wheel. “What’s that supposed to mean? SEALs are awesome. There’s nothing we can’t do.”
“My point exactly.” Arms folded, lips pressed into a scowl, Ellie stared out her window. “Last I checked, y’all hadn’t yet mastered immortality.”
“You really wanna go there? For a woman claiming to want a fresh start between us, you have a damn funny way of showing it.”
“Language,” she snapped.
He veered onto their exit. “I’ll be first to admit even SEALs can’t learn new cuss words in their sleep. Doubt our daughter can, either.”
“You make me crazy.”
“Feeling’s mutual, sweetheart.”
* * *
AT THE SHALLOW END of the rock quarry Deacon had somehow known about, Ellie leaned against the car, arms folded.
Pia’s delighted shrieks echoed across the lonely space. “Daddy fun! Do again!”
Deacon grabbed a huge rock and hurled it into the water where it landed with a great splash.
“Again!”
“No.” He kept his voice gentle and calm and infinitely patient with their little girl. “Now it’s your turn. You need to get those bad rocks and throw them in the water.”
He handed her a small stone, guiding her arm to show her how to get the most distance.
When Pia succeeded, she jumped and giggled. “Bad rock!”
“That’s right.” Deacon handed her another. “You showed him not to be so mean.”
“Bad, bad rock!” Pia had the hang of it, and was soon selecting her own rocks to punish.
The scene was unbearably sweet. Big, strong Deacon towering above little Pia. The sight should’ve filled Ellie with warmth. Instead, she wished herself home in bed so she could hide under the covers and cry.
Why couldn’t this situation be easier? Why did Deacon and she share such a complicated past? If he hadn’t been Tom’s best friend, could she have allowed herself to fall for him?
It hadn’t been that long ago when she’d asked him to let her tag along on his and Pia’s fun outings. Here they all were, yet Ellie was the only one not having fun—not because of anything Deacon had done, but because of her own stupid inability to let go. Maybe she was afraid that if she enjoyed herself too much with him, she’d lose control? Not physically, but emotionally.
He was a great guy. Any woman would be thrilled to have him. But in her heart, Ellie was still taken.
Would always be taken.
Toss in the paternity issue and their relationship was a full-scale disaster.
“Mommy, look!” Pia held a rock so large she could hardly toss it in the water. “Me strong!”
“You sure are, baby!” Ellie’s throat knotted.
“Bet you can’t throw one that big,” Deacon taunted.
“Watch me!” Ellie found the biggest rock she could and growled when she threw it. The resulting huge splash was her most satisfying accomplishment in a long time. “See?”
Kneeling next to their daughter, Deacon said to Pia, “I don’t know, peanut. Think that was good enough for us to let Mommy attack rocks with us?”
The child answered with an enthusiastic nod. “Mommy fun!”
“If you say so…” Though Deacon was answering Pia, his eyes met Ellie’s. The sheer weight of his stare turned her emotions topsy-turvy. The man was criminally handsome. “Can we start another truce?” he asked her.
Tears welling, she nodded.
He handed her a flat stone. “Time for a skip-off. Whoever skips the most with one throw has to make dinner.”
“Oh, mister, you’re on. We used to have a pond by our house and the neighbor kid taught me to skip like a champion.” Ellie threw and with five skips was glad to see she hadn’t lost her touch.
“Decent,” he conceded, getting six on his first throw. “Tell me more about this neighbor kid. Any romance?”
“Maybe…” Ellie matched his six and found another stone she was sure could get seven. “You’ll never know.”
“Oh,” he said with a laugh, getting only four on his latest throw, “I don’t know about you, Pia, but that sounded like a challenge to me. Think Mommy needs tickling?”
“Tickle, tickle!” Laughing, the little girl was first to attack.
Then came Deacon, going straight for Ellie’s vulnerable ribs.
Laughing so hard she could barely breathe, Ellie didn’t fight it when they all collapsed onto the ground in a laughing, tickling pile.
“Mommy funny!” Pia announced, sitting on her father’s chest.
“Me?” Ellie complained. “What about your dad? Isn’t he funny?”
Pia nodded, then threw her chubby arms around both of them. “I love you.”
“Love you, too, sweetie.” Deacon kissed Pia’s cheek, in the process making eye contact with Ellie. In that moment, the three of them felt like a family, and the sensation was intoxicating, exhilarating and more. Too bad the reality of their situation didn’t match up.
Ellie kissed Pia’s other cheek, and for the longest time they lay there breathing heavily in the foggy air.
* * *
“YOU DO KNOW I let you win?” Deacon stood at the stove making a stir-fry he’d concocted from veggies he’d found in Ellie’s fridge, and frozen round steak he’d defrosted, then cut into strips.
“Right.�
� The queen of rock throwing, who’d somehow managed to skip a stone nine times, sat comfy-cozy in an armchair, her legs covered by a warm throw. With her dark hair a mess and her cheeks still rosy from the cold, she looked too pretty. The kind of pretty that could drive a man into begging to be domesticated. “Just keep dreaming.”
Pia had conked out on the sofa, watching a cartoon movie with no killer rocks, and the foggy mist had changed to a drizzle, then snow.
Tossing in diced garlic, Deacon said, “Tell me more about this neighbor kid who supposedly taught you all you know. How old were you and was there necking involved?”
Ellie’s snorting laugh did funny things to his chest. Mostly, it made him want to make her laugh more. “God’s honest truth, he was the cutest boy I’d ever seen, and when he kissed me behind the lawnmower shed, that’s the closest I’ve ever come to swooning.”
“Damn… Tom know about all this?”
“Yes, but he made me promise to never go behind the lawnmower shed again.” Turning thoughtful, she added, “Easy enough, since the last time I visited my mom it looked ready to collapse.”
“How often do you see her?” He added a cup of rice to boiling water.
Ellie groaned. “Probably not enough, but I tried near Halloween and it went bad. I thought the visit was going all right, but then she asked if she could borrow a twenty for bread. Since her eyes were glassy and there was a full loaf on the counter, I’m guessing her dealer was getting my money and not the nearest grocery store. Once I left home, she moved on to mostly drugs.”
“Ouch.” After stirring the rice, he added a lid to the pan. “Sorry.”
“How about you? Have any special family memories you’d like to share?”
“Fresh out. I guess there’s a part of me that wouldn’t mind seeing my mom.” As for his dad? That reunion would never happen.
* * *
FOR ELLIE, life would actually be pleasant if only her new family of three could remain indefinitely in this holding pattern. But she knew what expectations Deacon had for her to share their truth, and the days until she made good on her promise were ticking away.
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