Page 51 of Bones

He snagged me by the hip and tugged me toward him. Some of the cream sloshed out, and I made a panicked squeak as I put my socked foot on the spill before Victoria got to it. I might’ve been willing to sneak herverysmall amounts of bacon, but I wasn’t sure if cream was dangerous. I’d never had a pet before, but Victoria seemed to have bonded with me. I didn’t want her to get sick.

Even if she was insulting me in her yippy bark language.

Not noticing the spill—or maybe not caring—Deke continued shifting me until my front was pressed to his side. I didn’t even think about how wet socks were a form of torture.

Because so was Deke’s arm around me and the tight way he held my body to his.

“Love it when we’ve cooked together,” he said, making me smile.

Because of all the good things we’d done that week—and there’d been a lot of good—that might’ve been my favorite. He was always patient as he walked me through each step, thoroughly explaining his techniques. It made it fun and not a frittata chore.

“But this is supposed to be a dinner to say thank you,” he continued, and I could literally feel the rumble in his voice with how close I was pressed to him. “Kinda doesn’t work if you’re helping to make it.”

I grabbed a small notepad and pen from the counter. Thanks to the way he’d scattered them all around his house and restaurant, there was always one nearby for me to easily communicate.

You don’t have to say thank you.

“The fuck I don’t.”

The first handful—or more—times Deke swore, my body had instinctively braced for expected anger. After all, why else would he be cursing every third word? After the millionth time, though, I finally got the message that he just had a potty mouth.

Since all that swearing was accompanied by tenderness, respect, acts of service done without drawing attention to himself, and about a billion other amazing qualities, I realizedthere were far greater sins than pairing a golden heart with filthy language.

“Don’t know what I would’ve done without you this week,” he continued.

When Deke had left for work that first day without me, an ache had formed in my chest until I’d been on the verge of chasing his car like a scene out of an angsty movie. It hadn’t made any sense since I liked being alone.

No.

Ipreferredit.

I never did figure out what my deal was, but it didn’t matter because he hadn’t left me behind again.

Like, atall.

While he was in the back office at Black Horse, I sat in there with one of the books he’d bought me. Once the restaurant opened and he moved into the kitchen to help Chris, a chair was set out of the way for me but still positioned where he could see me. And where I could see the chaos behind the scenes, which usually stole my attention from whatever I was reading.

When he’d initially set up the chair, my skin had grown hot and tight with shame. I’d assumed it was similar to how Ryan kept me close because he’d worried I would embarrass him. But it wasn’t. If I got up to help someone, Deke didn’t bark at me to sit down or get out of the way. Instead, I’d catch him giving me small smiles—even when it resulted in him burning the ahi tuna that was only supposed to be seared.

Chris, Kevin, and the others at Black Horse didn’t seem fazed by my sudden appearance. I would go so far as to say they might even like me. No one gossiped about me—or if they did, it was behind my back and not in raised whispers that they knew would carry. No one told me I was in their way or yelled at me for trying to help. No one called me a sinner, threatened damnation, or forced me into a prayer room.

No one made me feel like a failure.

I handled that last one on my own because I definitely hadn’t been doing enough to repay Deke’s generosity—hence why I was attempting to help with dinner.

I looked down at the pad to write that he would’ve been fine, but he didn’t give me the chance.

His large hand cupped my chin and tilted my face up to meet his intense gaze. “And it’s not just me who thinks that. Kevin said if I didn’t cook you something good, he’d have to. And, baby, there’s a reason he works in the office, not the kitchen, so be glad we’re avoiding that. Chris said to prepare your taste buds for tomorrow because he’s determined to make a recipe too spicy for you. Hell, every person in that place has pulled me aside to say how amazing it’s been having you there. Thought I was well-liked, but they’ve made it clear I’m chopped liver compared to you.” He squeezed my chin. “And they’re not wrong.”

His words—and the affectionate name he’d used a handful of times—traveled through me, leaving a trail of warmth that spread until I would have sworn I glowed like the fire in the living room. A smile that was quickly becoming ever-present spread across my face.

A buzzing hit the back of my swimming head. I quickly chalked it up to the lack of sleep because, after a singular good night, my sleep had returned to almost nonexistent. But the pain increased until my smile faltered, and the world went hazy.

I have the worst case of déjà vu?—

The vision.

Thisis the image from my vision.

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