The boy turned to her. “Was supposed to look out for you, Belly.”

I sucked in my lips because that was sweet.

“We’re here on vacation,” the dad stated and I looked to him. “The kids have their own unit, we have ours. My son is in college and has demonstrated a certain level of maturity so we trusted them to that and their own vehicle so they could do their thing. We thought they were old enough to have some fun without their mom and dad hanging around. We also trusted Jayden to look after his sister. He didn’t. My suspicion is, if he gets the chance again, he will. But we wanted you to know Annabelle shared with her mother what happened last night. We’ve talked with Annabelle and Peyton. We’ve talked with Jayden. And now we wanted to come to apologize for you having to get involved and to express our gratitude that you did.”

I opened my mouth to say something, ask them in for a coffee, but Deacon got there before me.

“Don’t ever do that again.” At his firm tone, a tone so firm it was granite, my eyes shot to him to see his gaze locked on Jayden. “Your sister, her friends, your mother, the woman you’re gonna claim, nothin’s more important. Not one thing. You know that now. Don’t ever forget it.”

My heart was beating funny as I tore my gaze from Deacon and watched the boy shake his head and swallow before saying, “I won’t.”

I looked back at Deacon to see him jerk his chin to the kid.

That was when I jumped in.

“Do you all wanna come in for a drink or something?”

“I think we’ve had our share of your kindness, Ms. Swallow,” the mother replied.

“If there’s any damage done, we’re willing to pay,” the father put in.

I shook my head. “Not necessary. The renters have been charged for the damage.”

The man nodded his head jerkily. He was upset about what happened and disappointed in his children.

And I suspected he wanted to move on.

“We appreciate you coming,” I said in order to let them know they were off the hook.

“And we appreciate you being responsible for our girls when we were not,” the man declared curtly and I knew he was also kicking himself, which made me feel sad for him but happy that Annabelle had a father that seemed a lot like mine.

“It’s done now and all’s well,” I said quietly.

I got another jerky head nod from the dad then he used his head to indicate to the others they needed to move out.

The mom smiled at Deacon but stopped at me, looked in my eyes, communicating everything that needed to be said (and there was a lot) as she took my hand and gave it a squeeze before she moved away.

The boy avoided my eyes as he nodded my way but gave Deacon a handshake.

Both girls stopped and gave me a hug, Annabelle whispering in my ear, “You’re cool, Cassidy. And we want you to know we’re cool. Thanks to you,” before she let me go quickly, didn’t let me say anything, and hurried to the SUV.

The father shook Deacon’s hand and gave me a chin dip before he walked stiffly to his truck.

We watched them do this before Deacon pulled me gently out of the door and closed it.

I looked up at him, striking a trip to Vista Real off my to-do list and glad for it. Not because it wasn’t exactly close, but because I could feel settled that those two girls were being looked after.

So, with my afternoon (kind of) free, when I caught his eyes, I asked, “Do you like turkey?”

He stared down at me, blank, giving me nothing.

For only a beat.

Then he gave me everything.

He did this by slowly, amazingly, magnificently smiling. His gorgeous lips turning up, deep grooves pressing into the sides of his mouth and radiating out the sides of his glorious, spiky-lashed, tawny eyes.

Taking that in, I was blinded by the beauty. But I didn’t care.

Not even a little bit.

It was insane, foolish, but I knew down to my bones I would have been happy if the last vision I had before all went dark was Deacon Whoever smiling at me.

Chapter Six

That’s Where It’s At

Eyes locked to mine, Deacon moved inside me, slow, sweet, gentle stroking.

Making love to me.

Amazing.

He pulled out, shifted his hips, glided back in and that felt so good, my lips parted.

He watched them part and made a low noise. I felt it rumble through his chest even as I heard it and I knew he saw my reaction.

And liked it.

And I liked that.

He pulled out, shifted his hips, and stroked in.

My nails curled into the skin of his back.

He dropped his lips to mine.

Then he kept at me, stroking slow and sweet, his eyes to mine, making love to me silently, beautifully. The way he did it, I didn’t need words, just his eyes, his body, our connection.

His hand slid from my hip, up, in between us, and curled around my breast where he rolled his thumb slow and tender at my nipple.

Yes, his hands could be gentle. And yes, again I was beside myself with glee (this time, another variety).

I wrapped my legs around his ass and whispered, “Faster, Deacon.”

He went faster but no less gentle. No less sweet.

I roamed his back with my hands, held him tight with my legs, and tipped up my hips to get more of him, gently panting against his lips.

He went faster.

“Yes,” I breathed, clutching him harder with my legs, one hand gliding up his back and into his hair.

He slid his tongue out and tasted my lips.

I tried to capture it in my mouth but he took it away.

“Deacon.” His name came out as a plea.

He made no reply. Just brushed my nose with his before he buried his face in my neck and went faster, harder, driving deep, his breathing going uneven, the sound and feel of it further tipping my excitement, thrilling through me.

I’d loved what he’d been giving me before but I needed what he was giving me now. So much, I turned my head and my gentle pants became ragged breaths rasping against the skin of his neck. My hand stopped roaming so I could curve my arm around him and hold on as my fingers in his hair fisted, holding him to me.

His hand suddenly left my breast, smoothing down my skin, and then his thumb was at my clit as he started thrusting harder, faster, the power taking me with it, the bed shuddering beneath us.

He lifted his head and I saw what I’d missed last night. Not blank. No mask. He was giving it all to me. His face dark, his eyes heated, his focus entirely on me, what he was taking, what he was giving, what I was giving, how he felt about it, all written in his expression.