Page 41 of Hold the Line

“I am.”

I stood next to her while she spoke with a salesperson, zoning in and out of their conversation. My phone vibrated in my pocket, so I slipped it out to check the text.

My stomach bottomed out.

Richie:I was thinking about swinging through town to see you Friday. Maybe visit Joy’s. Unless you want to meet me in Rawlins. It’s up to you.

I’d put him off the last time he’d texted, having no interest in seeing him, let alone speaking to him, but I’d known he wouldn’t be done just as well as I understood the threat behind his words.

There was no way he’d be setting foot in Joy’s. She could take care of herself, but I wouldn’t have her being put in a position where she had to. Joy had done enough for me. Putting herself between Richie and me wouldn’t be added to that list. No way.

Me:Tell me where you want to meet that’s not in Sugar Brush.

I’d get this shit over with as soon as I could. Friday, I’d deal with Richie, then Saturday, I’d get to take Phoebe dancing. She had no idea what I had planned. It was a surprise for her and a reward for me. Just had to get through this first.

Phoebe squeezed my hand. “You’re frowning. Bad news?”

“No.” I turned off the screen and put my phone back in my pocket. “It’s nothing.”

She tilted her head, her eyes trailing over my face. “Okay,” she whispered. “But if it turns into something, you can tell me.”

I pulled her close and pressed my lips to her jaw. “Know I can, sugar.”

But I wouldn’t. This would never touch Phoebe.

Chapter Eighteen

Phoebe

Deaconhadacouch.The rest of the furniture he’d purchased was on back order, but at least he had somewhere to sit besides a camp chair. I liked seeing him allow himself to have nice things, even if I’d had to push him to do it. I was coming to realize he didn’t believe he deserved to spend the money he’d worked hard to earn. Not on himself, anyway.

He stood over me as I sank into the soft cushions, his mouth curving into a grin.

“It was worth the shopping trip, seeing you comfortable in my place,” he stated.

“It was worth it because it’s a nice couch and looks good in here.” I patted the cushion beside me. “Sit with me. Try it out.”

He sank down, propping his feet on the matching ottoman. Pulling my leg up, I twisted to face him and patted his stomach.

“What do you think?”

He caught my hand and tugged me closer until I was almost splayed across his chest. His other hand came up to cup the back of my head.

“I like it.” He tipped his face closer to mine, our noses brushing. Then, with a tilt, our lips met. He kissed me softly, a whisper of contact. “Anywhere I can have you in my arms is a place I want to be.”

Free fall.

What was happening to my stomach had to be what skydivers felt in the moments between jumping and releasing their parachutes. Deacon had a tendency to say the sweetest things out of nowhere, and he did it so earnestly I didn’t doubt he meant them.

This was why I was falling hard and fast for this man.

“Deacon,” I murmured.

“Sugar,” he murmured back, dipping in again to taste my lips. “Just like sugar.”

“That’s probably from the mango sorbet I had at my parents’.”

I’d had dinner with them tonight. Deacon had been invited, but I hadn’t been surprised when he’d declined. Disappointed but not surprised. We were new, and he was still unsure—of himself, this town,us. Probably my family too. He’d find out eventually they’d accept him so long as he treated me right. But we weren’t there yet, so I didn’t push.

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