I got closer, took her hand, and pulled it up between us.

“He does what he does and I have to let him do it. I can take care of myself when he’s away and I know you worry, but I can. I have been for six years. But it’s nice to know that he’ll be back to help me with the gutters. I haven’t had that, Milagros, ever. And I really, really like it now that I know just how good it feels.”

“And this is okay with him?” she asked. “Leaving you to take care of yourself?”

“No, that’s why he bought me pepper spray—four cans —a Taser, a stun gun, and a dog.”

Her eyes widened at that. “He bought you the dog?”

She knew about the dog. I just hadn’t told her that Deacon got it for me.

“He paid a fortune for a pure breed, wouldn’t let me pay him back because he says, if it’s something he has to do to feel better about me being safe when he leaves me, I gotta let him do it.”

Her gaze drifted to the door again. “Maybe I’m mistaken about him.”

I hoped she was.

“He makes me happy,” I told her on a hand squeeze and she looked back to me. “He makes me happy in a way I didn’t know you could be happy and we’re just starting. Now all I’m left with is wondering how much better it can get, and trust me, Milagros, that’s what I’m wondering because he’s given me absolutely no indication it’ll go the other way.”

She held my hand fast. “I hope you find out, Cassidy.”

I hoped I did too.

I grinned at her and gently shut it down.

“You don’t need any help in the kitchen, do you?”

Her brows snapped together in affront. “Of course not. Everything was ready thirty minutes before you knocked on the door.”

“Can I set the table?” I requested.

“Done,” she denied.

“Fill water glasses?”

“Silvia and Esteban will do that.”

“Mop your kitchen floor?” I teased.

“What do you think I did in that thirty minutes before you knocked on the door?” she asked.

I stared at her in shock. “Seriously?”

“You don’t have guests with a dirty kitchen floor.”

That was when I smiled at her. “You so rock, I wanna be you when I grow up.”

“I think you’re growing up just fine, being you.”

Yep.

I’d fallen for Milagros.

Head over heels.

“Okay, now you’re gonna make me cry and that’d be all right normally, but I’m wearing mascara.”

Her gaze moved over my face. “I’m uncertain how God feels about painted ladies. I’ll ask Padre at mass on Sunday.”

“Keep me in that loop.”

She rolled her eyes.

I again squeezed her hand. “You need to feed me or I’m gonna pass out.”

Her eyes rolled back only to roll again on her “So dramatic.”

“No, seriously,” I lied.

She let my hand go and declared, “You can do something for me. Go. Tell them to get to the table. Dinner is being served.”

“You got it,” I muttered and moved toward the door.

I got two strides in before I heard, “Cassidy?”

I looked to my friend.

“Whatever happens, Manuel and I are always here.”

I felt my face go soft as my lips tipped up.

“Have I said you rock?” I asked.

“You have,” she answered.

“Well, you do,” I whispered.

That was when her face got soft.

Then she bustled to the oven.

I strolled out the door.

* * * * *

When we arrived back from dinner at Milagros and Manuel’s, I was experiencing such intense conflicting emotions I was surprised I didn’t split in half.

On the one hand, I was delighted to know that Deacon was right. Outside my conversation with Milagros in the kitchen, the rest of the evening had gone great. Manuel seemed to warm to Deacon, probably because Deacon had all the time in the world to give attention to the kids who all seemed fascinated with him. After our talk, Milagros either decided to give Deacon the benefit of the doubt or she got better at hiding those doubts. The kids just thought Deacon was the bomb. Since the food was great and conversation flowed, the night was a success.

On the other hand, before we left for dinner, I’d been outed as someone who wanted to try bondage and Deacon had said straight up he was into it, intimated he was good at it, and this meant sex was going to get even more interesting.

I couldn’t believe that was even possible.

He’d also said he was going to tie me to the bed that night.

I was excited and I was totally terrified.

So by the time we walked up the steps to my house together, holding hands (this time with Deacon taking my hand), dinner with my friends was not on my mind.

Deacon making me immobile and seeing how hard he could make me come was.

My thoughts consumed with this, I was taken off guard when I let us in and Deacon closed the door, grabbed my purse and keys, tossed them on the registration book, and backed me right into the wall.

Then, in the dim light we left glowing in the foyer, he dipped his face to mine.

“Vanilla.”

“Sorry?”

“Woman, you’re wound up so tight, it’s a wonder you don’t snap and ricochet around the room.”

I stared at him.

“Do you vanilla,” he stated. “You’re ready to play, you either say it or find a way to communicate it, then we play. But I’ll say this now, when that happens, you might be the one who’s takin’ what I got to give, but you’ll also be the one leadin’ it. You get me?”

I got him.

And what he said made me a lot less terrified.

Then again, that was Deacon’s way.

“Yes.”

“So tonight, vanilla. You sleep on what I said. Find your time. Call it. Or don’t. I got what I get from you naked, I’m happy either way.”

I was thinking he got better every day too and was about to tell him that when he spoke again.

“You good with that?”

I nodded.

“Right,” he muttered. “Time to see if that bra has matching panties. Then take them off.”

Before I could utter a noise (or, more aptly, fully experience the quiver in my nether regions), he pulled away but dipped low, hit me in the belly with his shoulder, hefted me up, and carried me up the stairs.