Takeoff

by Becca Jameson

  Raeann snatched it up and answered the call before she could think to stop herself. “Hey. Give me a second.” She covered the mic as she stood. “I’m going to take this upstairs.”

  Both of her friends smirked.

  “Of course you are,” Shayla teased as she stood. “I have to get going anyway. I’ll see you both later.” She picked up her purse and pointed at the phone in Raeann’s hand. “Tell your friend Deacon hello.”

  Raeann groaned as Heather walked Shayla to the door. She didn’t wait for Shayla to be gone before rushing up the stairs and shutting herself in her bedroom. “Hi,” she said breathlessly.

  “I didn’t mean to interrupt. You sound busy. What was all that giggling about?” He was teasing her. It seemed everyone was today.

  “I was having coffee with Shayla and Heather. I told them about me being a witch and how it was going to affect them.”

  “Rae…” His voice was filled with empty warning. “I know you’re kidding, but stop it.”

  She dropped down onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. Smiling. Smiling because she was talking to Deacon. Because he’d called her in the middle of his workday. Because she enjoyed talking to him. Because he made her heart race.

  She was treading in dangerous waters. “If I can’t make fun of myself, what else is left in life?” she asked.

  “You can, but not about that topic. You’re not a witch. And so what if you were? It’s a legit religion these days.”

  “True. Maybe I should convert and give these old biddies what they want.”

  “You’re insatiable.”

  “This is true. Now, I know you didn’t call in the middle of the day just to hear my voice. What’s up?”

  There was a hesitation. Several seconds.

  Raeann’s chest tightened. “Deacon?”

  “Yeah. Sorry. Uh, I wanted to see if you were free for dinner? You don’t work until tomorrow, right?”

  “Yes. But…” God, she wanted to see him. He was totally under her skin. If she lived in a perfect world, she would give in to her feelings for him and spend every waking moment with him. But she didn’t live in a perfect world. Her world was a shitshow that rivaled few others.

  She should slow this down, stop spending so much time with him. As it was, she’d gotten giddy when his name showed up on her phone. That was a bad sign.

  “Rae? It’s just dinner. No need to overanalyze. As friends. I swear.”

  “You cannot convince me you’re interested in being just friends. I’m not buying it.”

  “And, may I point out, you cannot convince me of it either. But that’s what you’ve declared, and I’ll take it for as long as it’s what you want.”

  Raeann bit her bottom lip to stifle the urge to groan. The man was too fucking nice. He made it very hard to stick to her guns. “Okay, but something casual. Jeans.”

  “Deal. I’ll pick you up at six?”

  “Picking people up implies it’s a date. I should meet you there. I should also pay my half when we go out.” She really needed to set some ground rules here.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Picking you up just makes sense. That way we arrive at the same time. And what if the restaurant is too full and we pick another one?”

  “Fine. Pick me up at six,” she relented.

  “Fine. And another thing. You will never ever pay for dinner when you’re with me, so wipe that from your frontal cortex. My mother would be appalled if I even considered splitting a bill. I can almost hear her gasping from all the way across Dallas.”

  Raeann giggled before she could stop herself. “Your mom lives nearby? What about your dad?” She realized she hadn’t asked about his parents.

  “Yep. He’s still living too. And shockingly enough, my mother lets him live with her.” He was joking, but she could hear something else in his voice. Nostalgia?

  “Ah, so they’re still married. How old are they?”

  He hesitated for some reason. “My mom is sixty-seven. My dad is seventy-two.” He cleared his throat. “I need to get back to work. See you at six?”

  “Yes.”

  He ended the call almost before she got the word out. What was up with that? There was something he wasn’t telling her about his parents. She shouldn’t be shocked. After all, she’d dominated every moment of their time together talking about her problems. If the man had any issue of his own, she hadn’t given him a single moment to tell her about it.

  Tonight she would ask him more about his family. It was the polite thing to do. Maybe if she focused on someone else instead of herself all the time, she’d learn that she wasn’t the only person alive with issues.

  Chapter 4

  Deacon was absurdly nervous as he knocked on Heather and Raeann’s door that evening. As if he were going on a first date and had jitters. This wasn’t a first date at all. It wasn’t any date. It was two friends enjoying dinner. He could do this. He shouldn’t, but he could.

  Spending so much time with Raeann defied all logic. Yes, he missed her terribly while she’d kept him cut off from her life. He’d thought about her often and forced himself not to reach out to her. He’d told himself it was for the best.

  During their two weeks together, he’d considered unloading his closet several times, but he’d never had the balls to rock the boat. He’d been greedy spending time with her. Beyond selfish. He was doing it again now. And he couldn’t stop himself.

  He couldn’t begin to imagine how she would react when he eventually opened his proverbial closet and let her see the weight of his problems. She did not have a monopoly on family issues. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to tell her yet. He would put it off for a while longer.

  Hell, he was putting off facing his reality himself too. Stuffing it to the back burner, knowing with each passing day that the clock was ticking. He wasn’t being fair. Not to anyone.

  His mother called him every day. He could hear the strain in her voice every time they spoke. She was tired. Exhausted. Of course. Dammit. If he could just have more time. More time with Raeann. He didn’t care that some freaky witch hunters might follow her around for the rest of her life. He didn’t care that her mother had a mental illness that might have been hereditary. None of that mattered to him.

  It mattered to Raeann though, and he needed to be cognizant of her feelings. Give her a chance to see that none of that affected how he felt about her. He could. He knew it. If he didn’t have his own damn problems looming over him at the same time.

  But fate didn’t operate on his schedule. She had her own timeline. And time was not his friend lately. Time was a bitch, to be honest. Deacon finally met a woman he wanted to build something with, and the world seemed to be against him.

  Things with Raeann had happened fast. At least for him. He was pretty sure his heart had seized the moment he first saw her at the airport. Her smile. That thick black hair with the fancy white streak. Even her uniform had made him do a double-take—though she hated the uniforms they wore for the airline.

  He couldn’t explain it. There was no explanation. He’d just known. Almost immediately. Known that he wanted her to be his.

  When the door suddenly opened, Deacon was jerked out of his headspace. Heather was on the other side and she opened it wide. “Come on in. Raeann’s almost ready.”

  He chuckled. If this wasn’t a date, why couldn’t she just come to the door without caring what she looked like? He liked that she wasn’t ready. It implied she cared. Not that it mattered to him how she looked, but it was telling that it mattered to her.

  Heather was smirking. “Just a couple of friends getting some dinner I hear.”

  He continued to chuckle, though he at least tried to stifle it. “Yep. That’s what I hear too.” He looked up as Raeann came down the stairs. She was wearing black jeans and a soft white sweater that hugged her curves. Could be casual, or she could have put on heels and gone to the symphony. She was stylish. He also noticed she wore black a lot, which matched her hair.


  “Hey.” She was out of breath as she hit the bottom of the stairs.

  “Hey,” he parroted.

  Heather waved over her shoulder and headed up the steps. “You guys have fun.”

  “Heather doesn’t think we can be friends,” Raeann commented as she grabbed her purse.

  Deacon narrowed his eyes. “What? Why not? We’re totally friends.” He let the sarcasm ooze from his voice. Luckily, Raeann just rolled her eyes as she passed under his arm to leave the condo.

  “Hungry?” he asked as he opened the passenger door.

  “Starving. I only grabbed an apple for lunch.”

  “Why?”

  She shrugged as she settled in the seat. “I was busy and kinda forgot and then it was too late.”

  He shut her door and rounded to his side, waiting until he was seated to respond. “Busy? What did you do after coffee with Shayla and Heather?”

  She scrunched up her nose. “You’re gonna laugh.”

  “Should I just start now?” He chuckled.

  “Organized my closet.”

  He laughed harder. “You’re right. Why?”

  “To keep myself from scrolling through social media. To occupy my mind so I don’t go crazy wondering if those bitches have found me yet.”

  “That’s really weighing on you.”

  “Yeah.” She fidgeted, rubbing her hands on her jeans.

  Deacon started the engine. “I’m sorry. I’ll do my best to entertain you so you won’t focus on the witch hunters for the entire evening. Now, how do you feel about greasy bar food?”

  She gave him a side glare. “I can eat greasy bar food. Are we going to a bar?”

  “Nope.” He pulled away from the curb.

  “Where are we going then?”

  “You’ll see.”

  She giggled, and the sound did not make him feel like he was her friend. If she continued to laugh like that, he was going to end up with a hard-on all evening.

  It took fifteen minutes to arrive at their destination, and she peered out the windshield. “Ax throwing?” Her brow was furrowed in confusion.

  “Yep. Have you heard of it?”

  She shook her head, but that laugh. Damn.

  “You’re in for a treat.” He jumped down from his side of the SUV and rounded to let her out. “Ready?”

  “I have no idea.”

  He grabbed her hand and threaded their fingers together as she lifted her small purse over her head and arranged it at her hip. Luckily, she didn’t make a comment about how friends don’t hold hands. He would hate it if she insisted on putting a lot of space between them.

  The truth was they’d already crossed out of friend territory the moment he met her. There was no going back. He knew it. She knew it. If she wanted to dig her heels in and insist they take a step back, he would do it for her. But in the long run, they were not friends.

  When they stepped inside, he gave his name to the hostess. He’d made a reservation earlier in the day.

  Raeann twisted in every direction, looking around. “This is a thing? People come here and throw axes?”

  “Yep.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s fun. You’ll see.”

  Ten minutes later, they’d been assigned a station, ordered beers, burgers, and fries, and were ready to start throwing.

  Raeann lifted the ax and groaned. “How I’m I going to lift this over my head dozens of times? My arms are going to be killing me tomorrow at work. I’m going to spill drinks on someone.”

  He smiled. “You won’t.”

  She launched the first one and totally missed.

  Deacon came to her side, squared her hips, pulled her elbows back farther, and nudged one foot forward. He decided this event was totally to his benefit if he was going to get to stand so close to her and hold her hips.

  Her second throw got much closer. By the fourth throw, she was at least on the board.

  After Deacon threw his first ax, hitting near the bullseye, Raeann shot him a glare. “Did you come here this afternoon and practice so you could look good?”

  He chuckled. “No.” He leaned close and tapped her nose, putting his elbows on the table. “They call me Shooter for a reason though.”

  “Shooter? That’s your nickname? I meant to ask, but I keep forgetting. Surely there wasn’t a huge call for ax throwing in the Army,” she teased.

  “Nope. But there are a lot of targets, and I rarely miss a target no matter what I’m aiming at it.” He trailed a finger down her cheek. “Your turn.”

  Two hours later, their entire bodies hurt and they were stuffed from greasy burgers.

  “I’m seriously going to be more like a noodle tomorrow at work,” Raeann said, her arms dangling as they walked to the car.

  “Not gonna lie, me too.” Deacon rubbed out his muscles. “I think we’re going to feel it in our backs and legs and shoulders and possibly even our toes,” he joked as he opened her car door.

  She paused before climbing in and turned to him. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For making me forget. For making me laugh. For making today a better day.”

  He cupped her face, wishing he could kiss her but holding back. “You’re welcome. Any time.”

  He wanted to ask her to come home with him, but that seemed too risky. She might not go for it and then he’d be one step forward and two steps back, so he reluctantly drove back to her condo. On the way to her door, he held his breath.

  She turned to him. “You want to come in for a while?”

  There is a God. “Sure. But kick me out when you need to go to sleep. What time do you work tomorrow?”

  “I have to be at the airport at eleven. It’s an overnight. I’ll be back Saturday afternoon.”

  The only light on downstairs was a small lamp on an end table. There were no sounds, so Deacon assumed Heather was up in her room.

  “We have to be kinda quiet. Heather works early tomorrow. I’m sure she’s asleep.”

  “No problem.” He followed her to the kitchen and accepted the water bottle she handed him. There was no question he was thirsty after all the exertion and the salty food.

  They both downed half a bottle before meeting each other’s gaze again.

  Raeann groaned and rubbed her neck as she tipped her head back. “I’m so going to regret your idea of fun tomorrow.”

  He took her hand. “Come here.” He led her to the couch, but after sitting, he turned her around and pointed at the floor. “Sit in front of me. I’ll rub your shoulders.”

  This idea proved to be a double-edged sword. On the one hand, he loved being this close to her, touching her, inhaling her scent. On the other hand, she started purring, and his cock refused to stand down.

  She rolled her head forward as he worked out the kinks in the back of her neck and her shoulder blades. He worked his way down her biceps next and then lower to include her fingers.

  “If you ever get tired of computer programming, I’m sure you could get a job as a massage therapist.” She tipped her head back and smiled at him.

  He smirked. “I’m really only interested in massaging one person.”

  Her eyes slid partly closed, and her mouth turned up in a pleasant smile, a soft “Hmm” coming from her lips.

  Deacon threaded their fingers together, his on top of hers. He wrapped their combined arms around her and set his chin on the top of her head. “I hope I took your mind off your problems for an evening.”

  “You totally did.” She smiled and opened her eyes, her face sobering. “Hey, I still haven’t asked you about your family.” She twisted around in front of him, dislodging their combined hands. Still sitting cross-legged on the floor, she set her hands on his thighs. “You mentioned your parents earlier today, but then we hung up. I got the feeling there’s a story there. I feel bad for not asking. The whole world doesn’t revolve around me.”

  He smiled and cupped her cheek, rubbing his thumb along her bottom lip. “I’m okay with
the world revolving around you.”

  She patted his thighs. “Well, I’m not. It’s rude of me. Tell me. Do you have siblings in the area too?”

  He swallowed, emotion welling up inside him, taking him by surprise. He hadn’t expected to be so affected by the question.

  Raeann leaned closer. “Deacon?”

  He licked his lips, afraid to say anything for fear he would turn into a blubbering idiot.

  Raeann rose and came between his legs, sitting on one of his thighs, her arms around his neck. She set her forehead against his. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was…”

  He shook his head, pulling himself together. Though it was hard because now his emotional state was at war with his body’s reaction to her proximity. God, she smelled good. Probably her shampoo. She always had the faint smell of lavender. He wanted to bury his face in her gorgeous locks and inhale her scent for hours.

  He finally cleared his throat. “I didn’t realize I wasn’t ready to talk about my family until you asked. Shit happened. It’s still too fresh to talk about it, okay?”

  She nodded.

  He felt like an ass. He couldn’t tell her everything. Not a chance. Mostly because he was fucking greedy and their odd relationship was precarious. But he had to give her something. “I had a brother. He died in a car accident six months ago. That’s why I left the Army and came home. I’m really not ready to say more, okay?”

  “Of course.” She cupped his face. “I’m so sorry. “We can talk about it another time when you’re ready.”

  “Thank you.” He set his hands on her hip and back, holding her close.

  “I’m sorry I never asked. It was insensitive of me. You’re dealing with shit much heavier than my shit. All I have is some loony women hoping to burn me at the stake. No one died.”

  “Your mom died,” he pointed out.

  “Yeah, but that was three years ago. It doesn’t count.”

  “It totally counts. You’re still dealing with the fallout, and I know her condition worries you.”

  “Yeah,” she admitted.

  He stared into her eyes, knowing he was letting the perfect opportunity to talk to her slip away. His omissions were huge. She would not be forgiving when she found out what he was leaving out. But he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t ruin whatever this was between them. Not yet.