Page 58 of Hold the Line

“What about Richie? Is he going to be a part of your life?”

“No, he isn’t.” His jaw rippled from how hard he clenched it. “I have no control over him, but he also has no control over me anymore. If he comes calling, I’ll turn him away. That night, I made it as clear as I could we were one and done. And after I went to prison for helping him, he owes me that. Whether he’ll give it to me is up in the air, but I’m done with him. I won’t give him any more.”

I chewed on my bottom lip, mulling over his words. My gut told me this was too important to rush—not that I was prone to making snap decisions anyway. When it came down to it, I believed what he was saying. That didn’t mean I’d automatically trust him. He’d purposely lied to me. Albeit, he’d done a bad job of it since I’d sensed something was off, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t do better next time.

“Hold the line.”

Tilly had been right about him coming to me. Whether he was worth the risk was yet to be seen.

But my instincts screamed I already knew the answer. And it wasn’t childhood nostalgia leading me there—it was the man I’d come to know now.

“When I first opened the bakery, a customer asked me out. He was a regular. We’d chatted a few times, and he seemed nice, so I accepted. We started seeing each other, and even though he’d just moved to Laramie to teach at the university, our dates were always here, in town. I never questioned it, but I should have. Turned out he was married. His wife had moved to Wyoming a few months after him, and that was it. He’d told me himself why we were over, and I’d been devastated.”

Deke grunted, displeasure written all over in the hunch of his shoulders and a deep frown dragging his mouth south. “I bet.”

“It wasn’t some grand love affair,” I clarified. “I didn’t miss him when it was over. What crushed me was realizing I’d been the other woman without even knowing it. He lied to me over and over, and I never saw it coming. That changed me. I never date customers, which is no skin off my back, but in here”—I tapped the center of my chest—“I can’t see the world the same anymore. My glasses had been rosy before Jared, and he’d knocked them right off in one fell swoop. Now, there’s always this voice in my head, wondering if I’m being lied to. And, Deke, I can’t do that with my person. I can’t fall for someone if I’m constantly questioning their honesty.”

His jaw tightened, regret softening his eyes. “I get that, and I’m sorry as hell you crossed paths with that guy.”

“Me too.”

“I see why you wouldn’t want to forgive me. I gave you good reason not to take me at my word. All I can promise is I’ll prove to you I won’t ever keep anything from you again. I need time to do that.” The tips of his fingers brushed my knuckles. “I’m standing here, asking for you to give that to me. I know full well I don’t have the right, but I’m doing it anyway.”

My fingers moved on their own accord, catching his as they passed. He stilled while I scoured him for the truth behind his promises. It was there, plain as day. The same ways his lies had been obvious to me when he’d told them.

His fingers curled around mine, making my heart stutter and my mouth dry.

I licked my lips, but it did little to help. I wanted to say yes and launch myself at him, but the hurt of that damn headshake held me back.

I pulled my hand from his. “I need to think, Deke. Can you give me that?”

He let out a jagged breath and nodded. “Of course, Phoebe. I’ll give you space, but I’m not going to be far.”

He kept his promise, leaving me at my door. But the next day, I caught him watering my flowers through the doorbell camera. The morning after that, the low rumble of his truck greeted me as I left for work. And when I walked home, his footsteps echoed mine.

A week passed with Deacon as my shadow—always near yet respecting the space he'd promised. He cared for the flowers he’d planted in the planters he’d built, proving with each quiet act he was all in.

And each day, I softened more and more until I questioned whether I was dragging this out too far. No matter what test I threw at this man, I had a feeling he would pass, but I was beginning to think it was unfair. Deacon had hurt me, yes—but maybe I was punishing him for wounds another man had left behind.

I could not allow my fear to be used as a punishment against this man, who had already paid more than his fair share of dues.

Saturday afternoon, halfway home from work, I stopped on the sidewalk and turned to face him. At first, he stilled, but when I curled my finger to beckon him, he closed the distance between us.

I reached for his hand, hooking one finger around his. “That night I texted you...I knew you were keeping something from me. You’re not great at lying—not even through words on a screen.”

“No. I’m not.” He huffed a low laugh. “You’d think I’d be better at it, coming from a family who wouldn’t know the truth if it bit them in the face. But I can’t lie to save my life. More than that—I don’twantto lie to you.”

I nodded, believing him. “Tilly told me you were worth it. She said if I held the line, you’d come back. I didn’t believe her. Even when you showed up last week. But here you are—you keep showing up.”

“Here I am,” he murmured. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”

“You came to me two weeks ago—passed out on my welcome mat.”

His mouth flattened. “Not my finest moment, dammit.”

“Well, I’m glad you chose my porch to take a nap on.”

He cocked his head in wonder. “Phoebe…?”

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