Page 21 of Hold the Line

I grinned back at him. “My other bad habit is being honest to a fault.”

“I don’t think there’s anything bad about that at all.”

All traces of his frown had disappeared, unveiling a light in his amber eyes that made me want to lean in to feel its warmth. Then he flipped the lid of the box open, turning his attention to examining the contents.

“Tell me what’s in here.”

Edging closer, I pointed to each item, naming them and their main ingredients. He considered for a beat then selected a s’mores brownie. As he brought it to his mouth, I fought the urge to knock it from his hand. His first bite of my baking, and it wasn’t fresh from the oven. I wished he were trying a warm, gooey brownie with oozing marshmallow and melted chocolate.

Deacon’s low groan brought me out of my mental spiral, raising the hairs on the back of my neck. I watched his mouth move as he chewed, taking his sweet ol’ time. His throat bobbed when he swallowed, and I exhaled a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

Without saying a word, he took another bite, this one bigger. We stood facing each other, my eyes on his mouth, his on the floor, as he slowly but eagerly consumed the entire brownie. No words passed between us. Neither of us moved any more than necessary. I didn’t ask what he thought, and he didn’t offer his opinion.

He didn’t need to, though. He’d put away the huge brownie in four bites then searched through the box for something else. Finding a strawberry shortcake cookie, he broke it down the middle and offered me half.

“Don’t make me eat by myself,” he gruffed.

“Oh, all right.” I slipped the piece of cookie from his hand and brought it to my mouth. This time, he watched me take a bite. Only when I started to chew did he tuck into his, making a sound of pure pleasure that I felt all the way down to my toes.

“Good?” I asked.

“Best thing I ever tasted.”

My breath caught for a moment. “Then I’ll make you your own batch.”

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “You don’t need to do that.”

“Just like you didn’t need to make me the most gorgeous planters I’ve ever seen.” I lightly touched his forearm. “Iwantto. It’s kind of my thing.”

The sinews in his arm rippled under my fingertip. I wasn’t sure if it was from discomfort or something else, so I dropped my hand to my side. Deke glanced around his apartment then set his gaze squarely on me.

“Thinking you might be right about needing a couch.” He scratched his jaw. “I’d offer you a seat right now, but you deserve better than a flimsy camp chair.”

I laughed. “Wow, all it took was a brownie and half a cookie for you to see the light. Don’t worry about me. I’m used to being on my feet all day. Anyway, I’m not going to stick around bothering you for much longer.”

“You’re not a bother.” The corners of his eyes pinched. “You remember me? From when we were younger?”

“Of course I do.” I brought my hand to my chest. “Did you think I didn’t recognize you?”

He gripped the edge of the counter, his index finger tapping the grout between the tiles. “It was a long time ago. We weren’t friends, and I was a year ahead of you.”

His saying we hadn’t been friends wasn’t false, but it was still a light punch to the gut. Back then, I’d wanted to be so much more than friends with him; I’d scribbled his name all over my notebooks like the little starry-eyed teen I’d been.

“And you introduced yourself to me,” he added.

“Well, I couldn’t tell if you rememberedme.” He chuffed as if the idea was preposterous, but ithadbeen a long time since we’d last seen each other. What reason had he had for me to be a memory he’d kept? “I knew exactly who you were when you opened the door, Deacon Slater.”

“You knew me.” He turned his head, giving me a full view of his rippling jaw. “Then why the hell do you keep coming around here, Phoebe Kelly?”

I jerked, staggering back a step. “What’s that mean? You said I wasn’t a bother.”

“You aren’t. Not to me.” His jaw clenched so hard I was concerned for his teeth. “But you know who I am and where I was the last few years, and where I came from before that. Why are you wastin’ time with me? If you feel some kinda obligation because I stepped in when that asshole was hassling you, forget it. You’re absolved. We’re square.”

“You just said a lot.” I sucked in a breath, measuring my response. “I’m glad we’re square. Anything I do going forward, like bringing you your own batch of cookies, you’ll see as an act of friendship, not obligation. Further, I don’t have a lot of spare time, Deacon. If I choose to spend some of it with you, it’s because I want to. But I am good at taking hints. I’ll go. Next time, if you don’t want company, simply don’t open the door, and I promise I’ll leave you be.”

He followed me to the door, putting his hand on the knob before I could. My back was to him, but I felt his warm, solid presence close. His breath ghosted near my ear, and my pulse tripped over itself.

“I’m just trying to figure you out.”

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