Page 42 of Hold the Line

I’d come straight to his apartment afterward, though. Oh, I was hooked.

His tongue dragged along my bottom lip, and he hummed. “No, that sweetness is all you.”

“The things you say.” I sighed against his lips. “Are you sure you haven’t had lots of girlfriends? You’re good at this.”

“I haven’t. You’re my only girl.” He nudged my chin with his knuckle, drawing my eyes to his. “If I’m good at anything, it’s because of you. You make me feel like I’m free to say what I’m thinking. I’ve never had that with a woman.”

My insides went so soft they were barely solid. Being told I made him feel free after he’d been locked up was too big of an honor to put into words. I would have to remember that. And be careful with it. I never wanted him to second-guess his choice to be fully open with me, especially when that was a huge part of what I wanted in a partner.

“You can always tell me what’s on your mind. I want to hear it.”

“It’s a whole lotta you these days.” He took my jaw in his hand. “Tell me something.”

“Like what?”

“Like something about you. Did you go to college?”

“No. College wasn’t my thing. I went to culinary school.” I shifted slightly so my arm was draped over his stomach and my shoulder was tucked under his arm. “I did a two-year program at a school in California then spent six months in France doing a pastry course.”

He blinked hard. “I didn’t know you’d left Wyoming.”

“I did. I always knew I’d be back, but I had to see more of the world for myself before I settled here.”

“You went all by yourself? To California and France?”

“Well…I went alone to California, but I had friends from school I moved to France with. They’d done their damnedest to talk me out of coming home. As much as I’d loved that experience, that hadn’t been an option. I love to travel, but my roots are here.” I moved my hand over his stomach, tracing the ridge of muscles beneath his T-shirt. They tensed, and I leaned my head back to see his face, mine mirroring the frown he wore. “What’s that about?”

“What?”

I touched the downturned corners of his mouth. “You look unhappy.”

“I’m not. Just thinking. I don’t have a passport.”

“Oh. Well…it’s not hard to get one. Is there somewhere you’d like to go if you had one?”

He shook his head. “No, you don’t get my meaning. I’m not allowed to have one. I’ve got a year of parole left, and after that, from what I hear, getting a passport and leaving the country as a felon isn’t always cut and dry. Don’t know if I’ll ever have one, and I’m not wasting time dreaming of places I might not ever be able to go.” His gaze leveled on mine. “It’s too soon to talk about this kind of future, but you should know what you’re getting into with me. I may never be able to go with you to all the places you wanna go.”

I swallowed down this information. It was too soon, but I wasn’t dating for the sake of dating. I wanted someone to share my life with. I never would have considered Deacon’s past could follow him for a long, long time. That record would stay with him and, if we lasted, with us.

“God, that sucks, but I get it.” I flattened my hand on his stomach. “Thanks for telling me, honey. I’ll think about it, but just saying, there are lots of places I haven’t seen and want to go to in the US.”

“I don’t ever want to hold you back.”

“I don’t want that either. Not for either of us. If we stick long term, we’ll figure out how things’ll work for us. We’re two smart people. I think we can handle it.”

He curled his arm around me, bringing me close, his face in my hair, mine in his neck. He was warm and so tender my heart ached. This man wasn’t built for the harsh life he’d been handed. If I started thinking what he might’ve been like if he’d grown up with a family like mine, I’d become unbearably sad, so I focused on his soapy scent and the goodness of being wrapped up in him.

“For the record, I earned an associate’s degree while I was on the inside,” he said as he sifted his fingers through my hair.

“Oh yeah? What’s your degree in?”

“Business accounting. Thought it’d help me to manage my books if I ever got my business off the ground again.”

“See? Like I said, smart.” I touched my lips to his thrumming pulse. “I love that you spent your time that way, thinking ahead. And I really have no doubt your business will pick up. Actually, I can see if the ranch needs—”

He tapped my lips, cutting me off. “No, Phoebe. Let’s not mix this with anything else, all right? I appreciate it. Love that you want to help me, but I don’t want this to turn into you trying to rehab me. Just be my girl. That’s all I need from you.”

I opened my mouth, then closed it. I hadn’t thought that was what I’d been doing, but I had to stop and consider if I was. Of course I wanted more for Deacon. He was insanely talented and deserved recognition. But would I have made that same offer to another man, one who hadn’t been dealt the short end of the stick from birth, this early into our relationship? I couldn’t say with any certainty I would have.

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