I shot daggers at him. “You’re a pain in my ass.”
Deacon gave me that cocky half smirk. “Says the woman who’s already made us twenty minutes late.”
“Fine!” I relented with a frustrated huff, and started stomping out of the bathroom. When he didn’t immediately move out of my way, I stopped and crossed my arms over my chest. “Excuse me,” I snarked. “Are you going to let me by so we can go or not?”
His smirk remained in place. “As soon as you give me a kiss. You know how much I love it when you get all fiery.”
Pretending to still be annoyed to mask the fact that I was a little bit turned on, I gave my head a frustrated shake before tipping it back so his lips could reach mine. The kiss was quick, but no less effective.
“Now we can go,” he stated after making my knees wobble.
“Oh my goodness! Look how pretty that dress is!”
The moment Deacon and I walked in, his parents had descended.
Cybil gripped my upper arms and gave me an overly excited shake, her exuberance so great my teeth clacked together. I bit back my wince and discreetly extracted myself from her hold with a smile.
“Thanks, Cybil.” I leaned in and kissed her cheek. “You look beautiful yourself, as usual.”
“Oh, well.” She waved me off with a bashful blush. “You’re too kind. And look at you!” she declared loudly to Deacon. “My boy cleans up so well!” Cybil grabbed him by the cheeks and yanked him down to plant a kiss on one. “So handsome,” she continued. “I’ve always loved you in a suit.”
She wasn’t wrong about that. My man looked hot. When he’d walked into the bathroom earlier while I was applying my makeup, I’d almost stabbed myself in the eye with my mascara wand. Deacon’s typical style was faded jeans and a T-shirt, or faded jeans and a button-down with the cuffs rolled up, and a pair of boots.
I nearly drooled on myself at the sight of him in a black suit and charcoal shirt with black pinstripes. He skipped the tie, but even without it the outcome was still dayum!
“Mom, for fuck’s sake,” Deacon grunted in the typical annoyance you’d see from a son when it came to his mother’s affections.
“Language, Deac!” she hissed.
“Well can you blame the boy?” Deacon’s father, Nolan, chided. “You’re treating him like he’s still twelve.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and pulled her back before going in himself. “Hey, son.”
“Dad,” Deacon greeted. They gave each other the man version of a hug with one-arm back smacks.
They disengaged and Nolan moved to me. “Fiona, darling. Welcome.”
After I returned Nolan’s hug, Deacon wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me backward into him.
“Oh, Nolan. Don’t they look so great together?”
I stifled a laugh as Nolan discreetly rolled his eyes behind his wife’s back. “Yes, sweetheart, they look good. Now can we please let them into the house, or do you intend to spent the entire party in the entryway?”
A big grin stretched across my face as I looked up at Deacon. He quickly glanced at the ceiling as if he were searching for patience before leading me into the house where the party was currently underway.
The instant we walking into the sprawling family room where all the partygoers were gathered, my parents saw us and swooped in.
“Hey, Mom and Dad.”
“Oh my goodness gracious! Calvin, just look at them.” My mother, Evelyn, exclaimed, and sweet Mother Mary, it looked like her eyes were glassy with unshed tears of happiness. “They’re so lovely.”
If Cybil Lockhart seemed dramatic, Evelyn Prentice topped her by at least ten percent.
My father looked just as damn happy as Mom did. I’d gotten my red hair and pale complexion from my dad, so it was obvious to me that the pink in his cheeks was due to excitement.
Dad had always been slight, thin, and short at only five-foot-eight inches. Adding the red hair that had been falling out for as long as I could remember and the paper-white skin was a terrible combination. All my life I’d heard people question what my tall, lithe mother—who just so happened to look like a woman who belonged on the runway modeling for Prentice Fashion’s designs—saw in such a plain, nerdy-looking man as my father. I never had to question it. He’d treated her like a queen, giving her whatever her heart desired, but at the same time, he wasn’t weak. He had a backbone and had never been afraid to stand up for himself if he felt he was being taken advantage of. Dad didn’t spoil my mom because he was scared of losing her. He spoiled her because he knew she was worth it. And she’d paid back that admiration with her own ten times over.
“Yes, Evelyn, dear. Absolutely lovely.”
“Dear God,” I muttered, glancing back up to find Deacon biting his lip to keep from laughing. “Let’s just make a run for it. I can totally run in these shoes, I promise. And if I trip, you can just throw me over your shoulder and keep going. You’re strong enough.”
A snort-laugh vibrated from his chest, and he lowered his head to whisper in my ear. “Just breathe, baby. No need to freak out.”
“No need? Seriously?” I whisper-yelled. “My mom’s about to cry out of sheer joy, which means your mom will join right in. And from the looks of Dad, he won’t be too far behind. I haven’t seen our moms this giddy since they got drunk on champagne while watching the royal wedding. Do you really want a repeat of that event? ’Cause it’s coming. I promise you that.”
No one wanted to see that again. You’d have thought the two of them had close, personal friendships with Kate and Prince William with how they’d behaved.
Deacon’s lips pressed against mine in a quick kiss. “Breathe,” he repeated quietly against my lips. “I love you.”
I scowled as best I could, considering we were still lip to lip. “I love you too.”
A loud squeal shattered our moment. When I turned my head, Mom was watching us. She looked like she was about to explode and splatter her joy all over the room. “Calvin, did you hear that? They said ‘I love you.’ Oh, this is so wonderful. So wonderful!”
My laser-like gaze jerked back to Deacon and I mouthed, “I told you so.”
Mom reached forward and yanked me into a hug so tight my ribs creaked. “I’m so happy for you! Best friends as children, now in love,” Mom cried. “Aren’t you so happy for them, Calvin?”
“So happy,” Dad answered, still beaming.
Someone kill me.
Something from the corner of my eye caught my attention, and I glanced to the side just as Deacon began slinking backward, like he was trying to make an escape without me.
That shady son of a bitch!
“You know what, Mom? I think Deacon would like a hug too.”
Deacon’s face fell at being busted. A shit-eating grin stretched across my lips at his severe frown. He was about to abandon me to save himself. Screw that.
“Of course, of course!” Mom let me go and wrapped her arms around Deacon’s neck. Even with as tall as she was, Deacon still towered over her, so he was forced to bend deep at her awkward hold.
“Honey.” Dad’s soft-spoken word called my attention away from my mom and boyfriend. Dad was grinning at me as he looped an arm across my shoulders. I rested against his side as he continued speaking quietly. “Are you happy?”
I returned his gentle smile and answered honestly. “Blissfully.”
His chest heaved with a deep inhale. A look of relieved contentment slipped across his face. “Good. That’s really good, my sweet girl.”
Mom had finally released Deacon from her death grip but hadn’t let him go completely. When his gaze finally met mine, he must have seen something in my expression he liked because his face went all warm and soft. It was a fantastic look. It was a look of love. It was the exact same look my father wore every time he looked at my mom, the very look I’d always dreamed of getting from a man.
“Fee!” Daphne’s voice broke through my euphoric fog. She and Sophia stopped beside me. “Damn, gi
rl.” Sophia whistled. “That dress is fabulous.”
Deacon caught my attention once more and mouthed, “I told you so,” just like I had minutes before.
Pain in the ass.
But I loved him anyway.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Deacon
“She’s less than thirty feet away, brother. She isn’t going anywhere. You don’t have to watch her like she’s about to evaporate into thin air.”
I flipped Grayson off with one hand and used the other to lift my beer to my lips. He, Dominic, and Caleb all laughed. I was going to need a lot more than beer if I was going to make it out of my folks’ house without my head exploding. It had already been two hours, and I could feel the twitch in my left eyelid. There was a reason why I hadn’t attended many of these events in the past few years, and it wasn’t only because I was trying to avoid Fiona. I loved my family and friends, but fuck me, sometimes they drove me insane.
“I’m not worried that she’s going to evaporate. I just like watching her ass.”
“Hmm,” Dominic hummed. “She does have a pretty… watchable ass.”
If I hadn’t already known Dom was so enamored with Sophia, I might have broken his nose. Lucky for him, I knew he was just giving me shit like the rest of the guys, so his nose was safe. For the time being.
“I can’t fault him for that,” Caleb chimed in. “I can’t keep my eyes off Daph’s ass. And it’s only gotten better since she had Evie.” He looked to where Fiona was gathered around the sofa with the rest of the girls. Lola was camped out on the couch, tricked out in a fancy dress and heels, but unable to get up and walk around for more than a few minutes per doctor’s orders. Caleb’s eyes did a full-body scan of Daphne. “Damn, my wife’s got it going on.”
“They all have it going on,” Grayson grumbled. “Unfortunately the four of them together is a whole lot of batshit crazy.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at how right he was.
“Tell me about it,” Caleb added. “Remember when Fiona was so sweet and unassuming? Those three totally corrupted her.”
Dominic snorted. “I’ve known those girls all their lives. If there’s one thing they’re good at, it’s corrupting the innocent.”
Shaking my head, I turned to the guys and spoke up. “Nah, that wasn’t their fault. Fiona’s always had that fiery streak in her. She’s just kept it buried deep beneath the surface. Those women just made her comfortable enough to let it come out.”
And for that I’d be eternally grateful. That fiery side had only ever come out with me in the past, and it was sexy as fuck. I thanked Christ every day that she’d found friends she was comfortable enough with to let it all hang out like that. That meant I got to reap the benefits every time she lit up.
“Really?” The surprise in Grayson’s voice as he asked that made me roar with pleasure inside. She’d never given him that. That fire was mine. It had only ever been mine.
“Son, you got a minute?” All heads turned toward my father, who’d just joined our little huddle. At first I thought he’d been talking to Grayson—it wasn’t uncommon for those two to go off to discuss business—but when I saw his focus on me, my skin started to prickle for some reason.
“Uh, yeah. Sure.”
“My office. I promise it’ll only take a second, and then you can get back to the party.”
Gray’s expression told me he was just as clueless as to what Dad wanted to talk about as I was. But whatever it was, I couldn’t imagine it’d be good. My father asking to talk in private had never ended well for me in the past. It usually led to us fighting—usually about his disappointment in my life choices and shit like that. And that fight would typically lead to us not talking until my mother had enough and ripped us both new assholes or burst into tears while laying the guilt on nice and thick.
Dad’s office smelled the same as it had when I was growing up, like leather and old books. The wood-paneled walls and heavy oak furniture created a warmth in the room that was at total conflict with the feeling in my sinking gut.
“So, what’s up?” I asked as soon as the door closed behind us.
Dad walked behind his desk, pointing to one of the oversized leather chairs across from it. “Have a seat.”
I stayed on guard as I slowly sat, resting my elbows on the arms of the chair, trying to look as comfortable as possible even though I didn’t feel that way. “This is starting to feel like a business meeting, Dad.”
“How serious are you about Fiona?”
My back shot straight. “Excuse me?”
He held his hands up in surrender. “I only ask because… well, I know your reputation, son. You aren’t exactly known for settling down. And this is Fee. She’s practically family. I just don’t want to see you—”
“Are you kidding me?” I snarled, moving to the edge of my seat. “Did you really just say that? Christ, Dad. I know it’s Fee. I know better than any of you.”
“Son, I mean no offense—”
“Then don’t ask me shit like that.” I ran a hand through my hair in frustration. “Jesus, Dad. You really think I’d do something like that? To her?”
“Look. I’m sorry. I just….” He shook his head. “I’m sorry.”
I tried my best to let go of the anger that was starting to simmer in my veins. Resting my hands on the chair arms, I began to push up. “Okay, well, is that all you wanted?”
“Actually, no.” Dad waved me back down before I’d even had a chance to fully rise. I sat back down, letting out a frustrated breath. “Now that I know where you stand with Fiona, I thought that now would be a good time to revisit the subject of you coming to work at Bandwidth.”
Collapsing back, I let out a bark of humorless laughter. That simmer turned into a full boil. “Dad. Don’t,” I said in a low warning tone. This wasn’t the first time he’d tried having this conversation with me. But he hadn’t attempted in years. I thought he’d finally gotten past his bullshit of thinking The Black Sheep was just a childish phase. Guess I was wrong. “We aren’t doing this.” I stood to leave as he kept talking.
“For God’s sake, Deacon. You’re a grown man entering into a serious relationship with a woman who’s important to the entire family. It’s time to stop playing around with that bar of yours and grow up.”
I jerked to a stop and spun back around. “Playing around? Fucking seriously? Is that what you think I’m doing?”
Dad shot up and threw his arms wide. “Well what the hell would you call it? You’re a Lockhart, Deacon! You’re supposed to work in the family business. You should be working alongside your brother and me. I’m going to retire. Grayson’ll take over, and you should be the second in command.”
“Christ, Dad, I’m not Grayson!” I shouted, losing hold on my calm completely. “When are you finally going to fucking accept that? You got your golden boy already. You don’t need another one.”
“It has nothing to do with that! But you need a career where you can take care of a family. You really think you can support yourself, Fiona, and the children you might have one day with that bar?”
“Newsflash, Dad, it’s not the fucking fifties anymore. Fiona has a job all of her own. She doesn’t need me to take care of her. But even if she did, that bar you think is nothing but a joke is flush. I’ve been well into the black the past six years. If, and that’s a big goddamn if, Fiona wanted to quit her job and pop out a shitload of kids, I’d be more than capable of taking care of all of them for a good long while.”
His face grew red as he continued to argue. “You belong with your family. When are you going to get over this… this need of yours to rebel against me?”
The door shot open and Grayson came rushing through, quickly shutting it behind him. “What the hell’s going on in here? I could hear you shouting from down the hall.”
My stomach hit the floor. It felt like I’d just taken a wrecking ball to the chest. Ignoring my brother, I stared directly into my father’s eyes. “Wow,” I hissed sar
castically. “So glad to know my own father’s got such a high opinion of me.”
“Deacon—”
“Hate to break it to you, but my bar has not one fucking thing to do with you. It wasn’t an act of rebellion, or a way to stick it to you.”
“Jesus Christ, Dad. Did you really say that to him?” Grayson asked in bewilderment.
“Gray, just stay out of it,” our father warned.
“Dad, this isn’t the time or the place—” my brother pushed, but I spoke over him.
“This conversation is over. For good. And just so you know, me opening The Black Sheep had absolutely nothing to do with you. If you’d ever paid attention to a single goddamn word I said to you, you’d know I opened that bar because it was what I always wanted to do. That was my dream, not being a pencil pusher. If you knew me, you’d know that sitting behind a desk for the rest of my life would be a nightmare. Despite what you think of me, I did what I did because it made me happy. Not that you’d give a shit.”
I turned and started for the door again. Just as I reached for the doorknob, Grayson’s hand landed on my shoulder.
“Wait. Just wait, Deac. Let’s just talk all this out. We can fix this.”
“Nothing to fix, brother. He wants a carbon copy of his perfect son, and that’s just not something I can do. I have to go.”
I was officially over this party. I just hoped I could get Fiona out without making a scene.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Fiona
I didn’t have the first clue what was going on with Deacon, but the more time that passed, the more I started to worry. Something wasn’t right. However, every time I tried to talk to him about it, he shut down on me.
He’d been acting strange since practically dragging me out of his parents’ party. Christmas Day, he’d acted normal, but that was exactly what it was—an act. As the week progressed and my concern grew, I started asking what was going on. Deacon insisted that there was nothing bothering him, but I could tell when he was lying just as well as he could with me. I let the subject drop for New Year’s Eve, putting on an act of my own while we celebrated at the bar with Sophia, Daphne, Dominic, and Caleb.
Charming Fiona Page 14