Deacon

“Yes, but I’ve had fried tortillas and none of them were that awesome.”

  His lips curved up.

  “What did you do to the meat?” I asked.

  He turned his attention back to the trees. “Used your chiles, added more cumin to the spice packet, the rest, I’d have to kill you if I told you.”

  I aimed my eyes to the trees as well, but did it grinning. “I think you inject badass goodness into them somehow.”

  He made no reply but I actually felt the humor drifting from him.

  This made me happy.

  I took a sip from my beer and found I was at the dregs, the part of the beer I refused to consume.

  I dropped my hand and turned back to Deacon. “I need another one, honey. You want one?”

  “Yeah, but I’ll get ’em,” he said, hands to the arms of his chair, pushing himself up.

  “I’ll get them.”

  He looked down at me. “Got ’em, Cassie.”

  I smiled up at him, even happier.

  Gutters cleaned. Someone to go grocery shopping with. One meal every now and then I didn’t have to cook (and it was a good one). Great sex on a more-than-regular basis. Waking up not alone but tucked close to someone who meant something to me. And when I needed a beer, I didn’t have to haul my booty in the house to get it.

  Oh yes, life was sweet.

  Deacon went into the house and came back with fresh cold ones. Then he sat at my side, lifted his feet, and tangled them in mine.

  Definitely.

  Life was sweet.

  * * * * *

  “Seriously, no,” I said low.

  “Is this gonna happen every fuckin’ time?” Deacon asked back, openly annoyed.

  “No, because we’re gonna get this straight now.”

  The gutters were done on all the cabins, cleaned, and the areas that needed replacing were replaced. Now, Deacon wanted to start work on my roof.

  And he was intent on buying the shingles.

  I was of an opposite mind.

  Thus, we were standing in my foyer, facing off again.

  I’d let him buy the groceries, no argument, not even to bust his chops because I’d had my words about him wandering off again so I thought that was enough for one day.

  But he bought the gutters, including the replacement materials we needed for the cabins.

  I was getting the shingles.

  “You budget for shingles?” he asked.

  “I have money,” I answered.

  “That wasn’t my question.”

  “No, but you know that since I didn’t even know I needed shingles. But it doesn’t matter. You’re clearly worried about the state of my roof and I don’t figure you’d be this fired up to take care of it if that concern wasn’t valid. And I’d rather have a problem fixed before it becomes a real problem. You take care of problems, even if they require money. Which, as I said, I have. Dad won’t let me pay him back and that’s partly because he wants me to have savings for a rainy day. This is literally that: taking care of something for a rainy day.”

  His eyes slightly narrowed before he asked a bizarre question. “You buy your ex out?”

  “Sorry?”

  “That guy you scraped off, you buy him out of his part of this business?”

  “He didn’t buy in. It’s always been all mine.”

  He nodded once. “Right, this works out with us, is it gonna stay that way?”

  I snapped my mouth shut because I hadn’t thought of that.

  “Cassidy, I got work to do to leave the life I lead behind. I haven’t even started that ’cause I needed to get where you were at with this. With us. We’re new. We’re good. We stay good, that work starts happening. And when that life is done for me, what do you want me to do?”

  I didn’t understand the question. “What do I want you to do?”

  “Yeah. Do you want me to work at your side or find somethin’ else that takes my time, ’cause, so you know, I don’t need money in a way I won’t until I die.”

  That made my mouth drop open.

  I closed it only to open it again to say, “Seriously?”

  “The work I do gets paid a whack. The life I lead doesn’t have a lot of overhead. Been doin’ this shit a while. Got enough money to live good, not large, but comfortable. That said, not a man to put my feet up and I suspect that’s in a way that I’ll never be that man. You want me at your side and workin’ this business with you, I’m down with that, and I buy the shingles as part of that buy-in that we’ll discuss fully when we’re there. You’re not down with that, you want this to be yours and me to have no part in it outside comin’ back to you after my day is done doin’ whatever it is I’ll be doin, you buy the shingles.”

  “This is a big decision to make at this juncture, Deacon,” I noted carefully.

  “I get you,” he replied. “But you’re right. The state of your roof, I don’t like it. Shit could happen and that shit might happen when I’m not with you to help you deal. So I want it fixed. So this decision needs to be made now.”

  “These cabins…” I paused, took a breath and explained, “These cabins mean a lot to me, honey. I’ve put everything into these cabins. I love these cabins.”

  “Right,” he muttered, his eyes shuttering.

  “But,” I went on swiftly, “I don’t know what the future will bring. To me we’re not good, we’re great. I love having you here. It’s making me happy. It’s making you happy. So when that time comes where we know we’re solid and you’ve left that life, then we can talk about your buy-in. But now it’s too soon and I need shingles.”

  “Then you pay for the shingles, Cassidy, but I pay for groceries while I’m here. What you eat, what I eat, all of it. My way of kickin’ in, it’s important to me to do that so you let me have that and don’t bitch or fight me.”

  And there was more proof.

  Badasses could compromise.

  My heart swelled as I told him, “I can do that.”

  He held my eyes. “You sure?”

  It was then I saw his weren’t shuttered anymore. They were lit.

  He was teasing.

  God, I loved it when Deacon teased. No way I would ever have guessed he would tease when I knew him only as John Priest.

  But I loved it that he did.

  “It might cause debilitating pain, but I’ll deal with it,” I teased back.

  “And she gives me the smartass.”

  “As I said, it’s who I am.”

  His voice was sweet when he said, “Yeah.”

  He liked who I was.

  I returned that sentiment.

  I told him that in his language by moving to him, putting a hand on his abs, rolling up on my toes to get close, and saying, “Let’s get shingles.”

  * * * * *

  Two days later, I was in the kitchen getting Deacon, who was hammering on my roof in the hot sun, a cool drink when I heard a knock at my door.

  I set the glass of ice water aside and moved to the front door, opening it to find my new renter there looking unhappy.

  This was not a surprise.

  I’d left Deacon on the roof so I could hang out in the house and wait for him and his family because I knew they were checking in that day. They checked in and he was surly when they did. No one was surly when they were checking in to fabulous cabins by a river in the Colorado Mountains. No one except someone who was always surly.

  “Hello, Mr. Snyder, how can I help you?”

  “This is unacceptable.”

  Wonderful.

  “What’s unacceptable?” I asked,

  “There are no towels,” he answered.

  I nodded my head in confirmation, explaining, “It states clearly in my terms and conditions, which you’re asked to click on prior to booking, that I don’t provide towels.”

  “No one reads terms and conditions,” he retorted.

  What an idiot.

  “I’m sorry if you didn’t, Mr. Snyder, but it’s spelled out there. I also note the s
ame in the cabin descriptions on my website, which you booked through.”

  “I just looked at the pictures,” he told me. “And now I have a wife, two kids, myself, a week in that cabin, and no towels. What are we supposed to do when we take showers?”

  “This has happened before, of course, so I have towels you can rent for the week.”

  His brows shot up. “Rent? For extra?”

  “Yes, five dollars a towel.”

  “We’ll each need more than one, being here a week.”

  “I have several, but it’s still five dollars a towel.”

  “That’s outrageous,” he snapped.

  It absolutely wasn’t.

  “I’m sorry you feel that way. But there’s a store in town that carries linens. They have towels.”

  “So I spend ridiculous money on towels I don’t need at home?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure what to tell you. You accepted the terms when you booked. You can rent towels or you can go to town and buy them. Either way, it’s worth a trip into town. There are a couple of lovely stores, a fantastic coffee shop, and a few good restaurants.”

  “I didn’t come up here for you to play tour guide,” he bit out nastily.

  That was when I felt it. I felt it before I saw it.

  So my eyes moved beyond Mr. Snyder at my door to the porch steps to see Deacon standing one down from the top, his arms crossed on his wide chest, the ends of his hair wet with sweat from the work he was doing, looking gorgeous and scary.

  “We got a problem here?” he asked and Snyder turned to him.

  “Who are you?” he demanded to know.

  “I’m Ms. Swallow’s man,” Deacon answered. “Now, do we have a problem here?”

  “There are no towels at the cabin, which is unacceptable.”

  Deacon looked to me.

  “I explained the terms and conditions, which Mr. Snyder accepted,” I told him.

  Deacon looked back to Mr. Snyder but said not a word.

  “If I don’t get towels for my family,” Snyder looked to me, “for free,” he looked back to Deacon, “we’ll check out and check into a hotel that provides towels.”

  Deacon watched him speak then his eyes returned to me.

  “You’re welcome to do that but a cancellation at this late date will mean I’ll still charge you for the entire stay.” Snyder’s eyes sliced to me and they were pissed. “Which is also explained in my terms and conditions,” I finished.

  “That’s unbelievable!” Snyder exclaimed, his voice getting loud.

  “I’m sorry you feel that way, Mr. Snyder, but that isn’t exactly an unusual condition in this business. You’ve booked a cabin I could not rent to others due to my commitment to it being available to you. You cancel with no notice, you pay the whole week.”

  “Are you full?”

  “Her capacity is not your business,” Deacon stated as he took the last step and joined Snyder on the porch. “Ms. Swallow has explained your situation. You can rent towels from her, buy them in town, or go to a hotel but you’ll pay for your week. Decide.”

  “I don’t need to be strong-armed by you,” Snyder spat.

  “Man, I’m five feet away from you reiterating the policies of Glacier Lily. That’s hardly strong-arming anything,” Deacon returned.

  “Okay,” I forged in, taking a step through the door to join the men on my porch. I looked to Snyder. “I’m sorry you’re unhappy with the situation but even so, I can’t make an exception for you. If I did, I’d have to make an exception for everybody and I’m sure you can understand that wear and tear on linens, not to mention laundering, is at a cost to me. Therefore I cannot provide it for free. If you wish to leave Glacier Lily, that’ll be disappointing for your family because it’s lovely, peaceful, and quiet here. But I’ll understand. I’m also happy to run and get you some towels. But we really can’t spend more time discussing this. Your choices have been communicated to you and I’m afraid to say, no matter your argument, they won’t change.”

  “I’ll buy towels in town,” he clipped. “I’m not giving another cent to you. And you can expect a poor review on-line.”

  That had happened before from people like him. The first one I saw cut deep. The second one didn’t feel much better. The third one just stung. Now I was over it, mostly because the way they were written, even an imbecile could read it was about them being assholes, not about Glacier Lily.

  “That’s your prerogative,” I murmured.

  “It certainly is,” he retorted, turned, and stomped by Deacon and down the steps.

  Deacon and I watched him go. When he was out of sight, he turned to me.

  “You okay?”

  “Not the first or the last time, honey.”

  He nodded.

  “Need a drink?” I asked.

  “Yup,” he answered.

  I grinned and walked into the house.

  Deacon followed me, went straight to the glass on the counter, and downed it in one go.

  When he put it back to the counter, he gave me his eyes.

  “I can deal with that,” I said quietly. “I’ve done it before, I’ll do it again. But that doesn’t mean it didn’t feel super-awesome that you heard it going down, got off the roof, and took my back.”

  He didn’t move toward me, take my hand, cup my jaw, get in my space, but he didn’t need to. His eyes said what he needed to say.

  “It also feels super-awesome that you make it clear you’re at my back but you let me deal and don’t catapult us into Badass Zone and take over.”

  His eyes kept communicating but this time his lips did too.

  “Anytime, Cassie.”

  I nodded.

  “Anything, baby,” he continued.

  God, that felt good, because I believed him, mostly because he was proving it.

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  “I’d kiss you and feel you up, but I got shit on my hands.”

  I smiled and bossed, “Right, then go fix my roof.”

  That was when he moved to me, bent in, brushed just his lips to my forehead, turned, and walked away.

  * * * * *

  A week later, my roof was fixed. The pots littering my front porch and the steps that led up to it were bursting with flowers and greenery. And Mr. Snyder and his family were gone.

  With downtime finally on our hands, I’d found that Deacon did not hike. I’d also found that he did do lunch, something we did in Gnaw Bone at a great place called The Mark. I’d learned he didn’t have a motorcycle. I’d also learned when I mentioned it that he wasn’t averse to the idea. Thus, we’d also gone to Carnal to look at some restored Harleys a man named Wood had for sale there. We took two for a test drive, me on the back, pressed tight to Deacon, who not surprisingly knew how to ride.

  And life got sweeter.

  He didn’t buy a bike because one was red, the other was silver, and Deacon wanted black. But we did give Wood my number so he could call if they ever had a black one.

  Now, I was in the kitchen with my phone to my ear, my mom talking to me, my other hand carefully balancing a big dish with my loaded potato casserole in it that I was trying to shove into the oven at the same time listen to my mother.

  I had not yet pulled out that casserole for Deacon because it was a bit of a fiddle. But I knew he was going to love it. I knew this because I’d also learned my man was a meat and potatoes man.

  Tomorrow, we were going to the breeder to pick my puppy.

  And life would be sweeter.

  “You were right,” Mom said in my ear. “Titus blew a gasket.”

  I did not rub it in. For once, I remained silent.

  “He says he’s coming but he’ll be giving you a call. He and Bessie will be staying at the house with you.”

  “This is good, Mom,” I told her. “I had a booking come in for that week that I had to turn down today because I’m full. Now I can e-mail them and they can experience the glory of Glacier Lily.”

  I heard he
r chuckle.

  Then I heard her say, “You sound good.”

  I grinned as I successfully settled the casserole dish on the rack in the oven. “I am good.”

  There was silence for moment before she said, “No, Cassie, you sound good.”

  I straightened and kicked the oven door closed with my foot then looked to the floor, not knowing how to play this.

  I lifted my eyes and turned them to the kitchen windows. Through them, I saw Deacon in his chair, feet up on the railing, eyes to the trees.

  And I instantly knew how to play this.

  My gaze went back to my feet.

  “I’ve met a man.”

  Mom said nothing.

  “We’ve known each other awhile. He’s…he’s a good man, Mom,” I told her. “He’s, well, no other way to put it, he’s incredibly handsome. Very tall. A big guy. I…we, well, we’ve moved it to the next level.”

  “And that would be?” Mom asked when I said no more.

  “He’s staying with me,” I shared. “He travels for a living but he has some downtime and he’s staying with me.”

  That received no response.

  “He cleaned my gutters,” I said softly. She didn’t reply so I kept going. “He noticed the rain running over them and he cleaned them. He found they were in a bad state so then he replaced them. After that, he took care of the ones on the cabins. I helped, and he let me, but he did most of the work.”

  Mom said not a word.

  “Doing that, he saw the state of my roof so he fixed that too. His downtime, not working, he spent days working on the house and cabins for me.”

  She still didn’t speak.

  “I…I,” I stammered then whispered, “Mom, he thinks I’m beautiful.”

  She said something to that.

  “You are beautiful, Cassidy.”

  “He’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen, Mom, and he told me he feels the same about me. He told me I could be in magazines. He told me I’m the finest woman he’s ever known. That means a lot since, outside Dad, he’s the finest man I’ve ever met.”

  “That isn’t a surprise either, angelface, because you’re you. He’d have to be very thick to miss that.”

  I felt my face soften, my lips tip up, and I moved to lean a hip to the counter. “I really hope things keep going this well, Mom, because I really want you and Dad to meet him. Dad would love him. He takes care of me like Dad does, letting me be me but being there to support me in being it.”