Page 25 of Deacon

“Listen, because somewhere between the day your stubborn ass stomped through my front door and now, I failed to make you aware of something.”

“What?”

“That over you, I will surrender my life for you and your safety. I’m not trying to throw my weight around, nor am I trying to control your moves. All I want to do is love your feisty ass and lock in the future bitch ass Satan is throwing roadblocks to prevent.”

Well, damn. What can I say about that?

“For how long?” I ask.

“What do you mean?” A smirk upturns my lips at the tightness around Deacon’s eyes, matching his frown.

“Your escort services. How long do you plan to do it?”

“Until my spirit surrenders to the confirmation that you’re no longer at risk to be harmed.”

“What do you do for a living? If you’re planning to take me to and from work, how will this alter your schedule?”

“I’m a loan officer at Ribax Financial Credit Union and have the flexibility to schedule clients however I see fit. I’ll simply arrange my calendar around your work hours.”

“What if I get hungry and want to go out for lunch?”

“What ifs are about to have you in an unnecessary and frustrating chokehold. Stop letting Satan use you, Squeak. Deaconess Redmond has always told me that though the weapon forms, it can’t prosper.”

Wait… what?

“You not only know a scripture reference but can properly use it to fit a situation. Hm. I’m impressed.”

“I fit into the group of people that 2 Timothy 3:5 is talking about, Squeak. Don’t judge me, less you be judged.” With that, Deacon releases me and walks out of the bathroom, causing me to laugh from his outlandish statements.

A week later…

“It lookslike I’m not the only man who knows your worth and how special you are,” the officer services attendant says, entering my office with a beautiful bouquet of light pink and cream roses.

A smile instantly upturns my lips, causing my disposition and face to brighten when I take the flowers from Chance.

“Flirting with the HR assistant in her office is nasty work, Chance,” I say, grinning.

“When the information spoken is factual, it can’t possibly be reduced to simple flirtation. Hopefully, whoever sent those isn’t trying to get out of trouble,” Chance says, smirking.

My gaze shifts from Chance to the envelope sticking out of the flowers, causing me to verify the sender.

I know the past week hasn’t been easy, but I just want you to know how much I appreciate you. Hopefully, these brighten your day and allow you to cut a nigga a little slack. Thanks for your patience, Squeak. I love you.

Deacon

Warmth surges through my body at the note from Deacon because I had a feeling the flowers were from him but didn’t want to assume. Seeing the three words of endearment at the end has my blood pressure rising and my nerves going haywire. I’m only in the getting to know my man stage of the relationship and trying to determine if his crazy will send me running for the hills. Deacon and I have only been a couple for a week, so how can he possibly feel like this about me?

This is wild, and this man can’t possibly love me. Can he?

“Damn, the man really must be in trouble because your face has gone from smiling to grimacing in a matter of seconds,” Chance says, reminding me of his presence.

“How long did it take you to tell your wife that you love her?” I ask, ignoring his statement because I’m curious whether Deacon is otherworldly.

“Four days after she chose me. I’m a sucker for love, and Kiesza has always been the woman for me.”

Lord, I forgot Chance married his childhood crush. He can’t possibly be the person I should ask this question.

“You’re biased,” I say, shifting my focus to the beautiful flowers sitting on the edge of my desk.

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