Deacon (Unfinished Heroes #4)

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Deacon (Unfinished Heroes #4) Page 17

by Kristen Ashley


  I knew when it left Deacon, because when it did, he gave me more.

  “Dream come true, seated deep inside you in this bed.”

  I closed my eyes tight and ordered, “Stop it. I have floral splendor and clean but decrepit gutters and I just had a fantastic orgasm. I’m not in the mood to cry.”

  He lifted his head, kept some of his weight braced into a forearm in the bed while he framed one side of my face with his big hand. I knew with one look in his eyes he wasn’t in a teasing or bantering mood.

  “Six years, laid in this bed, you up at the house, wantin’ this.” I pressed my lips together and stared in his eyes. “Dream come true.”

  “Okay,” I forced out, the word sounding choked because it was. “Now I’m crying.”

  And I was. I felt the tear slide out the side of my eye just as I felt Deacon catch it with the pad of his index finger.

  “Don’t give a fuck if it’s three weeks or thirteen,” he declared. “You don’t hear from me, do not ever doubt where I want to be.”

  God, I hoped it was never thirteen weeks.

  I didn’t share that.

  I said, “Same goes for you.”

  He stared at me, right in the eyes, something working in his that was part what he was giving me, part something I didn’t understand.

  I waited.

  He shared no further. Just bent to touch his mouth to mine, pulled out, rolled off, moving me with him so I ended up on top.

  “You wanna clean up?” he asked when he got us in our new position, both his hands now at my head, fingers moving against my temples to dry the moisture there.

  “Yeah,” I said and it was croaky so I took a shuddering breath to get it together. “But I don’t provide towels, only sheets. So I’m gonna have to go to the house to get a washcloth. And I also don’t offer toilet paper, so I’ll get some of that too.”

  His arms curved around me and tightened. “I’ll go to the house.”

  I shook my head. “No, it’s okay. I’ll grab some munchies and my phone charger, seeing as the resident badass has decreed we’re spending the night in cabin eleven and my battery is low.”

  The grooves around his mouth deepened but his arms didn’t loosen.

  “I’ll get food and your charger too.”

  “It’s okay, Deacon.”

  “Did I say you’re naked in this bed for the rest of the day?”

  I suppressed a smile and replied, “Yes.”

  “So who’s goin’ to the house?”

  The smile broke through. “You.”

  He gave me another squeeze on his, “Yeah. Me.”

  I bent my head to kiss him lightly then lifted it, muttering inanely, “Rethinking my decision to provide towels.”

  “Don’t. Unnecessary hassle for you.”

  That quick, firm advice got him a grin.

  That grin faded when I informed him, “Just so you know, gotta keep my phone close, honey, just in case one of my customers needs me.”

  He tilted his head slightly on the pillow and asked, “That happen a lot?”

  I shrugged, lifting a hand so I could stroke his jaw with my thumb, mostly because I couldn’t stop myself from touching him, and gleefully because I didn’t have to try. “Currently, don’t have any demanding renters. But it’s not unusual.”

  “And those demands are?” he prompted when I gave no detail.

  I settled more fully on him and shared, “Well, usually it’s when they don’t read the terms and conditions and think there are towels, toilet paper, daily maid service, laundry onsite, crap like that. And that only happens when they first get here and find out that stuff isn’t provided.” My eyes wandered to the pillow and I went on, “Though, next up for Glacier Lily, gonna build an outbuilding and have a coin-op washer and dryer so I don’t have to deal with that part. When that’s done, I’ll build my gazebo.”

  “Gazebo?’ he asked and I looked back at him.

  “Last big dream for Glacier Lily. A big gazebo by the river with chairs in it for folks to sit, relax, drink in the view.”

  “Can you afford that?”

  “I’m gonna refinance the property,” I answered. “Roll the second mortgage in with money to pay back my dad and—”

  I said no more because I found myself suddenly and surprisingly on my back with Deacon looming over me.

  “You haven’t paid back your dad?”

  I felt my brows drawing together, remembering I’d told him about that but confused as to why he had a dark look on his face all of a sudden. “No. He won’t accept installments and—”

  “And you got a loan from the bank?”

  “Well, yeah, Deacon,” I replied. “All the work I did on the cabins cost some cake.”

  “And you got a loan from the bank to pay for it.”

  I stared at him and repeated slowly, “Well…yeah.”

  “Woman, don’t do that again.”

  This was quick and firm too, it was also surprising.

  “Why?”

  “Banks suck.”

  “Perhaps,” I allowed. “But they’re a necessary evil. And anyway, I didn’t promise them my firstborn child,” I pointed out.

  Again, Deacon wasn’t in the mood for teasing or banter.

  “Cassidy, listen to me, the economy was in the toilet for years. So bad, every time I came here, did it uneasy, hopin’ you were still in business, ridin’ a wave the rest of the country was not and keepin’ your head above water.”

  God.

  Deacon.

  I wondered if it would ever stop coming to me, his moments of sweet and how deep they ran.

  I wondered, but hoped it didn’t.

  “Straight up miracle you did,” he kept at me. “You didn’t, you get in too deep with the bank and your shit gets messy, they can take it all and you walk away with nothing.”

  “That won’t happen.”

  “You don’t think it will until it does,” he stated and his words made me still underneath him. “You worked too fuckin’ hard on this place not to enjoy the goodness you created. Do not put that in jeopardy.”

  “Did that happen to you?” I asked cautiously.

  “What?” he asked back.

  “Did you lose something to the bank?”

  His head cocked to the side. “Fuck no. Never owned property in my life and definitely never had a loan.”

  That was intriguing, but I didn’t have time to get into it, he wasn’t done talking.

  “I just know that shit goes down and it sucks. But if that shit happened to you with what I’ve watched you put into this place the last six years, it would do more than suck.”

  He was not wrong.

  He was also still not done.

  “You refinance only if you’re gettin’ a better rate, you roll that second mortgage into it but you don’t borrow more to build the laundry or a gazebo. You don’t do those at all until you got the cash to pay for it or I got a good amount of time at Glacier Lily to put them up for you.”

  Again, there was a lot there, all of it we had to go over, and I decided to start with the part that interested me most.

  “You’ll put them up for me?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Uh, how are you gonna do that, Deacon? We’re not talking cleaning gutters here.”

  I saw a veil slide over his features. He didn’t shut down, but he still shut me out.

  He did this further by answering simply, “Got the skills.”

  I took a moment to decide whether to push that or not.

  In that moment I saw his expression remain veiled and we’d just shared something beautiful. I didn’t want to do anything to mar that, like push it when he wasn’t ready. So I let that go.

  “The laundry would be a very nice added service,” I told him. “That’s probably the biggest request I get. There’s a Laundromat in town but people don’t like to schlep their stuff to town. And those coin-op machines cost a whack to use. It would pay for itself.”

  “It cou
ld also start payin’ for itself when you can pocket that shit, not you earnin’ back what you put into it, givin’ it away, takin’ more time to do that since you’re payin’ interest on what you borrowed.”

  He was again not wrong and this was sounding familiar.

  “My dad would say that,” I told him.

  “See your dad isn’t the scarecrow either,” he replied and I grinned.

  “No, he isn’t.”

  “No increase on your loan, Cassidy,” he ordered.

  “You’re being bossy again, Deacon,” I returned, my grin dying, my decision not to mar this beautiful moment in cabin eleven suddenly forgotten. “Even if you do me the huge favor of building it for me, I have to pay you something and buy materials.”

  “Pay me?” he asked, his tone weirdly incredulous.

  “Yes,” I answered, my tone understandably determined.

  “Pay me,” he repeated, but it wasn’t a question this time. It was an opportunity for me to take back what I said.

  “Yes, Deacon. You wouldn’t be cleaning out gutters; you’d be building a building.”

  At that, he looked to the pillow and told it, “She’s naked in my bed in eleven, my cum leakin’ outta her,” his eyes came back to mine, “so this conversation ends here.”

  “We should get this straight,” I pointed out, because we should. Relationships crashed and burned after arguments about money and I didn’t want that for ours.

  “We can do that when you’re not naked with my cum leakin’ out of you in my bed in cabin eleven,” he returned.

  I sighed because he was right.

  Deacon decided it was time to move on.

  “What food you want me to bring?”

  “The Red Hot Blues and the hummus,” I answered immediately and his lips started curving up. “And a bottle of red wine. And glasses. And whatever you want to drink, though you’re welcome to wine. And the rest of the pie. We’ll use the forks and plates in the kitchen.”

  “See I’m gonna be makin’ more than one trip,” he muttered.

  “I could help you,” I noted.

  He pressed deeper into me. “You could. You aren’t. You’re gonna be lazy because, woman, trust me, you’re gonna need your energy.”

  I squirmed under him at that promise and instantly acquiesced, “I’ll stay here.”

  His lips curved up again and he replied, “Good call.”

  “Though, I’m kinda hungry and I’m also leaking.”

  “Right,” he murmured, taking my hint. He bent in, touched his mouth to mine, then said, “I’ll go.”

  Then he went, sliding off me and rolling off the bed.

  I switched positions to get under the covers.

  When I had the covers up over my breasts and Deacon was pulling on his clothes, I called, “Honey?”

  He kept his side to me, his hands doing up the buttons of his jeans, but he slid his eyes my way. “Yeah?”

  “Hurry.”

  At my word, his face darkened and he turned to me, bending deep. Putting a fist on the bed and one hand to my cheek, he bent deeper and took my mouth in a long, hot, wet kiss. When he released my mouth, he touched his lips to my forehead in a short, sweet kiss.

  Then he straightened away, pulled on his tee, sat on the side of the bed to yank on his boots, and took off.

  And with the amount of time it took him to get back, I knew he didn’t waste any.

  * * * * *

  Deacon

  Hours later, in the quiet dark, Deacon lay in the bed he’d lain in many times before, this time doing it feeling Cassie’s soft body tucked to his side, her arm draped over his stomach, her cheek pressed to his chest, listening to her breathing.

  All those times before, and more when he was on the road and away from Glacier Lily, he’d dreamed of this too.

  I hope you know what you’re doing, asshole, he thought.

  But he knew he had no clue.

  He just knew he couldn’t stop doing it.

  On that thought, he pulled her closer and closed his eyes.

  Chapter Ten

  Badasses Can Compromise

  “They’re my gutters, Deacon.”

  “You paid for the ladder, Cassidy.”

  “So, it’s my ladder too. Or are you gonna take it with you on your next job?”

  It was the next morning, after sex in cabin eleven, a shower in cabin eleven (something else that made Deacon and my dreams come true in spectacular ways, though, these didn’t end in tears, only moans—me, and groans—Deacon) and coming back to the house to have breakfast (eggs and bacon for Deacon, made by me, but I had oatmeal).

  We were dressed and almost out the door when Deacon checked his wallet then said he needed to go upstairs to get some money.

  I told him he didn’t.

  He told me he did.

  More words were said.

  This brought us to now.

  “We’re havin’ words, woman, don’t make yours sarcastic,” Deacon returned, his voice getting growly and not in the good way.

  But he was right. There was no need for that, ever.

  “You’re right,” I conceded. “But the point is still valid.”

  “I’m eatin’ your food, sleepin’ under your roof, and buyin’ your gutters,” he declared.

  I got his point.

  I just didn’t agree with it.

  “You’re also putting them up.”

  “Yep. I’m doin’ that too,” he confirmed.

  “Deacon—”

  He cut me off to ask, “Fuck, can you argue about anything?”

  The answer to that question was yes.

  I didn’t give him that answer.

  I asked, “Can’t you see where I’m coming from?”

  He stated the obvious. “No.”

  I moved closer to him, taking away a foot of the four that separated us in my foyer.

  “I’m uncomfortable with allowing you to pay for something that expensive.”

  “They’re not expensive,” he returned. “And I’m uncomfortable with a woman keeping me.”

  I leaned back in surprise.

  “I do my bit,” Deacon finished.

  “Your bit is putting them up.”

  “How about I decide what my bit is, not my woman deciding for me.”

  It occurred to me right then that we’d hit the Badass Zone, a zone that was not simply the un-capitalized badass zone I was normally in with Deacon. A zone that needed capitalization. A zone I’d never been in. A zone I realized belatedly was a zone where I should tread cautiously.

  So I did that.

  “On a scale of one to ten, how important is this?” I queried.

  “Me doin’ my bit so I don’t feel like you’re keepin’ me?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I answered.

  “Eighty-five.”

  I took in a deep breath and let it out suggesting, “How about you pay for the groceries when we go to the store?”

  His brows snapped together in a way that I’d never seen from him before.

  It was a way that was a little scary.

  “Are you shittin’ me?” he bit out.

  “Uh…” I trailed off, thinking the answer to that was yes, even when it was no.

  “When I take another job, after it’s done, am I comin’ back here?” he demanded to know.

  “I hope so,” I replied.

  “And when I take a job after that, where do you want me to be when I’m done?”

  His point was dawning on me.

  “Here,” I answered.

  “Here in cabin eleven, me payin’ to be there, or here in this house with you?”

  My tone softened. “Obviously here in this house, honey.”

  “Now, do you see where I’m comin’ from?” he pushed.

  “How about we go halfsies?” I suggested.

  Deacon looked to the ceiling.

  I took that as a no.

  “It was just a suggestion,” I muttered.

  He looked back to me
. “You want diamonds and pearls, you got it. You want to fly to Paris, I’ll have to swing a passport, but I’ll do it and you got that too. You want anything and I got it in me to give it to you, I’ll give it to you. But that is not this. This is day-to-day, give and take, me takin’ care of you, you takin’ care of me. I get you got it in you to take care of yourself. You showed me that for six years. What you gotta get is that, if we want this to work, you gotta budge on that and give me my shot at doin’ it ’cause I’m the type of man who’s got that in me in a way there is no other way I can be.”

  His words made me feel warm and squishy, but this conversation was too important to leave it at that.

  “I can do that,” I allowed. “But there has to be compromise.”

  “Yeah, I suck at cooking mostly ’cause I hate that shit. You’re fuckin’ great at it. You take that on, after years of fast food, I’ll be eternally grateful and put up new gutters on every fuckin’ cabin at Glacier Lily.”

  “It seems I get more out of that than you do.”

  “Obviously you haven’t eaten garbage for ten years.”

  This was again intriguing.

  And again, Deacon didn’t give more.

  I didn’t push it.

  I gave in.

  “All right. You pay for the gutters but only if you let me help you put them up and on the added condition that if something like this ever comes up again, we have a discussion. You don’t catapult me into the Badass Zone, take over, and make the decisions for both of us.”

  “The Badass Zone?”

  “A zone you live in constantly. A zone I live in when I’m with you. It becomes capitalized and I visit it when you establish badass boundaries, so, FYI, it’s the zone we’re in right now.”

  A smile spread on his face even as his lips ordered, “Here.”

  “See?” I stated, lifting a hand to point at his mouth. “Badass Zone.”

  He crossed his arms on his chest.

  “Just to say,” I continued, dropping my hand. “I’m not only argumentative, I’m ornery and stubborn. If you want to have a badass stand-off, I should warn you, as badass as you are, there’s still a very good chance you’ll lose.”

  I finished my declaration on a startled cry because Deacon lunged, nabbed my hand, and stepped back, sending me sailing into him. I was still dealing with colliding with his long, hard frame when his arms wound around me and his mouth crushed down on mine.

 

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