by Jaci Burton
* * *
DEACON WAS ON his knees working on the wiring on the first floor when something nudged his butt. He figured it was one of the guys trying to get his attention.
"Not now." He swiped the sweat from his eyes and focused on fitting the wiring into the connection box when he felt another nudge, this time between his legs.
"What the fuck?" He jumped up, ready to do battle with whoever had just grabbed him by the balls.
Only it wasn't a person. It was a dog. A damn big one, too. And in his work space.
The dog came over and licked his entire hand, his tail whipping back and forth and causing a breeze in the room. He was black-and-white with short, sleek hair and was, Deacon had to admit, beautiful. But huge.
"Okay, dude." He checked to make sure it was a dude, and it was. "You're obviously lost."
"He's not lost. He's mine."
He looked up to see Hazel standing in the doorway. "This is your dog?"
"Yup. Got him a couple of days ago."
"He's bigger than you."
"Is not. He's the perfect size."
"Come on, dog," Deacon said. "Back outside for you."
Fortunately, the dog followed him, practically knocking Hazel over when he greeted her on the porch. Then he licked her entire face, which only made her laugh.
Hazel giggled. "Isn't he great?"
"Yeah. Great. Did you name him yet?"
She nodded. "His name is Otis. He's a Great Dane and he's almost a year old. So he's like still a puppy. Oh, and he knows how to sit, don't you, Otis? Otis, sit."
The dog wagged his tail and licked Hazel's hand, but didn't sit.
Deacon gave the dog a critical eye. "I think your dog needs some training."
"I'm gonna train him. I was doing that on the porch but he slipped out of the leash and ran off."
"You have experience training dogs?"
"No. This is my first dog ever. Mama and I went to the animal shelter and I got to pick him out."
"So you decided on a horse?"
She laughed again. "He's not a horse, Deacon."
He loved the sound of Hazel's laughter, which was filled with pure, unfiltered joy. There was nothing like a happy kid. "He looks like a pony."
"Mama already told me I can't ride him. Not that I would. She told me I have to be responsible for him. I have to get up in the morning and let him out, and when we're here I have to watch him, take him for walks, and train him not to eat my shoes."
Deacon arched a brow. "He ate your shoes?"
"Only one of them. We got him some toys so he'll have stuff to chew on. Oh, and he likes to fetch tennis balls. But we can't do that here cuz of the street."
"Where's his leash?"
"It's over here." She ran over to the bookstore's porch and brought back the flimsiest leash Deacon had ever seen.
"That kind of leash will never work on a dog Otis's size. You'll need a stronger one."
"I will?"
"Yes. And how are you training him?"
"By telling him stuff. He did sit that one time when I told him to. And I push on his rump while I tell him to sit."
She looked proud of herself when she told him that. "I've been looking up stuff on YouTube."
Kids and technology. At least she was trying. "Here, let me show you a few tricks."
He didn't have dog treats in his truck, but he did have some chicken breast that he'd brought along for lunch. He went to the cooler, pulled out a hunk of the chicken, then took Otis's leash and brought him out to the sidewalk.
There, he showed Hazel how to hold a tiny hunk of chicken up high, then back the dog up enough to force him to sit while using the command. When Otis sat, he let him nibble on a small piece of the chicken. They worked on it several times until Otis did it instinctively. Of course, he expected a small piece of chicken every time, but eventually he'd associate the sit command with a treat. Until he'd do it with just the command.
"But you have to do it every time in the same way. A dog learns by routine," Deacon explained to her.
Hazel nodded. "Got it."
"Hazel. What are you doing?"
Deacon looked up to see Loretta standing on the front step of the bookstore.
Hazel turned around and smiled at her. "Deacon's teaching me how to train Otis. Look, Mama."
Hazel broke off a small piece of the chicken and held it up high. "Otis. Sit."
The dog sat and Hazel let him nibble on the chicken. "Good boy."
Loretta walked down the steps. "Deacon has work to do, Hazel. He doesn't have time to play with you and Otis."
"We're not playing, Mama. We're working. He already knows how to sit because Deacon helped me." Hazel turned to Deacon. "Can you help me train Otis some more?"
"Actually, I have to get back to work now, Hazel."
"You have to stop bothering Deacon," Loretta said.
"She's not a bother, Loretta."
"See? I'm not a bother, Mama. Maybe you can come over for dinner tonight and we can work some more with Otis. Can Deacon come over for dinner, Mama?"
Loretta looked horrified at the thought. Deacon tried to hide his amusement behind a cough.
"Oh. Uh, I don't know if that's a good idea, honey."
Hazel's smile disappeared. "But why not? We were doing really good together."
Deacon hated to see the disappointment on Hazel's face. "I'd love to come over tonight, Hazel."
And there was that bright smile again. "Awesome."
"Hazel, go take Otis inside and let him have a drink of water. I'm sure he's been working hard."
"Okay. See you later, Deacon."
"See you, Hazel."
After she walked inside with the dog, Loretta turned to him. "It's not good to make promises like that to Hazel. I don't want her to be disappointed."
"First, I never make promises I don't intend to keep. You don't have to make me dinner. I'll come to your place and give Hazel a few light training tricks for her dog. Then I'll leave."
Loretta stared at him, and he wondered what was going on in her head. Likely things he didn't want to know about.
"Fine. We'll be home about six."
"Okay. I'll see you sometime after that."
She turned to head back inside.
"Loretta?"
She stopped. "Yes?"
"I don't know where you live."
"Oh." She gave him her address, and he put it in his phone.
"See you tonight, Loretta."
She gave him a look, then nodded. "Right. See you tonight, Deacon."
When she disappeared inside, Deacon headed back up the stairs and into the building, wondering what the hell he'd just done. He didn't want to see Loretta any more than she wanted to see him.
So why had he offered to come to her place tonight?
He knew why.
For Hazel. And only for Hazel.
Chapter 7
* * *
LORETTA HAD NO idea what she was doing making homemade biscuits and stew for dinner. Or why she was making such a large pot of it. It wasn't like she was actually going to invite Deacon to stay, because she wasn't.
Otis sat at her feet. Or rather, on her foot, which was a crushingly painful experience.
"Off my foot, Otis." She looked down at the dog, which wasn't a very far distance, since his giant head nestled against her waist.
The dog ignored her, instead looking at the pot of stew like it was the best thing ever.
"Not a chance, buddy. And please remove your enormous foot from my foot."
She finally had to nudge his head gently with her hip. Only then did he move. Actually, he lumbered not-too-gracefully to the door, barking in his Oh My God That Is So Loud dog voice.
It was too early for Hazel to be home, so that meant someone else had pulled into the drive.
As watchdogs went, he was pretty good, so she had no complaints there. About the only complaint she didn't have about the dog so far. She turned the heat down on the stew to a simmer and went to the
door just as the doorbell rang, which made Otis bark even louder. If that was even possible.
She opened the door, and Otis launched himself at Deacon, head butting Deacon right in the crotch.
Loretta winced, but Deacon had put his hands in front of his more tender parts and staved off the attack. At least it was a loving attack. Otis's bark might sound fierce, but so far he loved everyone he saw.
"Hey, there, Otis. Obviously we need to work on the stay command."
"Yes, please do that. And come in."
Deacon walked in, Otis trying to entangle himself in Deacon's feet.
"Where's Hazel?"
"She went home with a friend from her soccer team. She should be back soon."
"Okay. You want me to wait outside until she gets here?"
Loretta frowned. "No. Why would I make you do that?"
"Because it's obvious you didn't want me here in the first place."
She headed toward the kitchen. "I didn't want to inconvenience you. I didn't say I didn't want you here. Would you like some iced tea or a beer?"
"Iced tea will be fine. Thanks." He followed her into the kitchen. She grabbed a glass and put ice in it, then poured from the pitcher of sweet tea she'd made earlier. She handed the glass to him, and he took a couple of swallows.
"It's good."
"Of course it's good. A Southern girl never forgets how to make sweet tea. Though I have to admit it's been a while. Tom didn't care for anything with sugar in it. He was very careful about his diet and wouldn't allow it in the house."
"Well, he was no fun, was he?"
"You have no idea."
"He probably didn't even let you have popcorn and Sno-Caps when you went to the movies, did he?"
She was surprised he remembered her favorite movie snacks. "No. And we rarely went to the movies."
She realized that had been a very sharp answer, and she didn't want to talk about her ex-husband, especially with Deacon. "So how are things coming along with the renovation?"
"Fine. Going along according to schedule. I didn't know you'd bought a farm, Loretta."
"Yes. I bought a farm."
"Big undertaking for one person. How many acres do you have here?"
"Five."
"That's a lot."
"Yes, it is. Hazel and I hated living in the condo. She always talked about having space to run around, and she wanted animals. Lots of animals." Loretta looked down at Otis. "He's a start. I know she'll want more dogs. And cats. She wants chickens and goats and horses, too. Maybe a cow or two."
"So, a real farm, then."
"Yes, a real farm."
"Are you sure you can handle that?"
"Honestly? I don't know. But we're going to give it all we've got. Hazel loves animals. Now I can finally give her the chance to realize her dream of having a farm, all this space, and the animals she's always wanted to take care of. She wants to be a veterinarian."
"She does? That's not surprising. The kid seems to really like the dog. And seems determined to train him right. That's a good start."
"Thank you for offering to help her. I never had pets, so I'm not the ideal person to assist. I know she's been watching videos."
His lips curved. "She told me that. I can give her some pointers on how to train Otis."
"You would know best. I remember all the dogs your dad had at his farm. Let's see, it was Smiley, Red, um, Peanut, and . . ." She held up her hand when he would have helped her. "Don't tell me, it'll come to me."
She finally raised her gaze to his and smiled. "Stripe."
He smiled, and her heart squeezed.
"You remembered them all."
"Of course I did. I loved all those dogs. They were the only exposure to animals I had."
"If I recall correctly, your parents would complain that you'd come home from my dad's house with dog hair all over your clothes."
She laughed. "Yes. One of the many things they disliked about you."
"Yeah."
He went quiet, and Loretta realized the last thing he needed from her was a reminder of how much her parents had disapproved of him.
"So, tell me about your place. How about you give me a tour while we wait for Hazel?"
She nodded. "I can do that."
She needed to keep things between them neutral. Dredging up the past would only hurt him, and she'd already done plenty of that.
She showed him around the house. "It's four bedrooms. More space than we need, really, but we were so cramped in that two-bedroom condo that when I saw this place I felt like for the first time in years I could actually . . ."
She paused.
"Breathe?" he finished for her.
"Yes. Plus, it has the acreage I wanted, and the house is in decent enough shape."
He wandered into her kitchen and turned on the sink, wincing at the sound. "Decent? Plumbing is ancient. Did you have an inspection done?"
"I did. I know it needs work. I plan to hire someone to get to that."
He nodded, then followed her into the living area.
He stopped in the living room, taking in the built-in bookshelves that were crammed solid with books. "What? Not enough books in the bookstore for you?"
She lifted her chin. "There could never be enough books. And I like to read."
"You always did. I don't think I can ever recall you being without a book in your hand, in your backpack, or in your purse."
"Oh, and you didn't? We were always at the library together." One of her best memories of their time together.
He looked at her and didn't say anything. She realized he didn't intend for this to be a romantic walk down memory lane.
"Anyway, this is the living room," she said, hoping to get back on neutral ground.
"Big living room. Hazel will be able to have a lot of friends over."
"That's the idea. We couldn't do that in Dallas. Plus, Tom didn't like kid noise, so Hazel was never allowed to have sleepovers."
"Tom's an asshole."
Her lips tilted upward. She wasn't going to argue that point. She moved him through the hallway toward her office, where she had even more bookshelves filled with books, plus a desk and her laptop.
"This is a nice setup."
"Thanks. I keep all my financials for the bookstore here so I can work at home more and Hazel doesn't have to spend as much time at the bookstore. The carpet's totaled, but underneath is original hardwood, so I intend to rip it up and refinish the wood."
He arched a brow. "By yourself?"
She shrugged. "Eventually."
He gave her a dubious look, but she moved on, out of the office and down the hall, opening the door into Hazel's room. Her gaze zeroed in on Hazel's dog, who had a guilty expression and one of Hazel's favorite books in his mouth. A book that was now in shreds.
"Dammit, Otis." She marched over and retrieved the soggy literary mess, then stretched out her arm and pointed to the doorway. "Out."
Otis apparently understood that word, as well as the fact that he was in deep trouble, because he hung his head low as he walked past her.
"Does he have chew toys?" Deacon asked.
"About fifteen of them. But he loves anything and everything in this room."
"This room needs to be off-limits until he learns what's his--and what's not his."
"You can take that up with Hazel." She dropped the now-useless book in the trash.
Deacon took a long look around. "Her room is cute, and not at all girlie."
"Hazel isn't girlie at all." Loretta smiled. "She doesn't like pink or purple. We decorated this room together. She picked the yellow paint for the walls, and I suggested the white shelves for her sports trophies and the bookshelf for her vast collection of animal books."
Loretta watched Deacon tilt his head to the side as he pondered Hazel's window.
"Yes, it's off-kilter," Loretta said.
Deacon went over and tried to open it. It wouldn't budge.
"This window needs to be replaced. First
hard rain you get you're going to have water in here. You already have water damage here, so the casing and windowsill need replacing, too."
"I know. It's a priority. I just have to find . . . people."
He turned to her. "I'm people."
She frowned. "What?"
"I'm a contractor, Loretta. I can do that for you."
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because . . . no."
"It's important this gets done, and you want it done right. It would only take me a couple of hours."
That was an awful idea, for so many reasons. "Don't you have enough work to do?"
"More than I know what to do with, but it's no problem for me to do it after hours. It doesn't sit right with me that Hazel has this leaky, ill-fitting window."
She stared at him for a minute. Like . . . a full minute, unsure of how to respond. On the one hand, it would save her from searching for a reputable contractor. On the other hand . . . Deacon.
Finally, she said, "I'd of course pay you."
"Hell yes, you'll pay me."
That made her feel somewhat better. And she had intended to get the window fixed. She just hadn't gotten to it yet. Along with several other things on the property that needed repairing or replacing. The bookstore had been a priority, and the window hadn't leaked--yet, though she knew she was pushing her luck there.
"Fine. And thank you."
"Not a problem." He wandered out of the room and down the hall. She followed after him.
"That's just my bedroom."
He stopped. "What? You have whips and chains, or maybe some kind of sex swing, and you don't want me to see them?"
Her eyes widened as she imagined a sex swing in there. And all the things she could do in one. With the right person. Parts of her that had been untouched for so long suddenly came flaring to life as she imagined Deacon and her . . .
Oh, no, Loretta. We are not going there.
"Uh, no. Nothing sexual is happening in my bedroom."
His lips curved. "Too bad for you."
But he walked past her without going in her room. "Nice house. Let's see the outside."
She had no idea why she didn't want him going in her bedroom. She'd made the bed this morning and the room was picked up. Maybe it was because the last time they'd been in a bedroom together . . .
And there went that sudden flare of heat again. She and Deacon had been a lifetime ago. And like she'd told him, there was nothing going on in her bedroom these days other than sleeping. Still, the thought of his big body in her bedroom--with her in it with him . . .
Whew. She was conjuring up images in her head she had no business thinking about. Especially about a man who hated her.