“It also feels super-awesome that you make it clear you’re at my back but you let me deal and don’t catapult us into Badass Zone and take over.”
His eyes kept communicating but this time his lips did too.
“Anytime, Cassie.”
I nodded.
“Anything, baby,” he continued.
God, that felt good, because I believed him, mostly because he was proving it.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“I’d kiss you and feel you up, but I got shit on my hands.”
I smiled and bossed, “Right, then go fix my roof.”
That was when he moved to me, bent in, brushed just his lips to my forehead, turned, and walked away.
* * * * *
A week later, my roof was fixed. The pots littering my front porch and the steps that led up to it were bursting with flowers and greenery. And Mr. Snyder and his family were gone.
With downtime finally on our hands, I’d found that Deacon did not hike. I’d also found that he did do lunch, something we did in Gnaw Bone at a great place called The Mark. I’d learned he didn’t have a motorcycle. I’d also learned when I mentioned it that he wasn’t averse to the idea. Thus, we’d also gone to Carnal to look at some restored Harleys a man named Wood had for sale there. We took two for a test drive, me on the back, pressed tight to Deacon, who not surprisingly knew how to ride.
And life got sweeter.
He didn’t buy a bike because one was red, the other was silver, and Deacon wanted black. But we did give Wood my number so he could call if they ever had a black one.
Now, I was in the kitchen with my phone to my ear, my mom talking to me, my other hand carefully balancing a big dish with my loaded potato casserole in it that I was trying to shove into the oven at the same time listen to my mother.
I had not yet pulled out that casserole for Deacon because it was a bit of a fiddle. But I knew he was going to love it. I knew this because I’d also learned my man was a meat and potatoes man.
Tomorrow, we were going to the breeder to pick my puppy.
And life would be sweeter.
“You were right,” Mom said in my ear. “Titus blew a gasket.”
I did not rub it in. For once, I remained silent.
“He says he’s coming but he’ll be giving you a call. He and Bessie will be staying at the house with you.”
“This is good, Mom,” I told her. “I had a booking come in for that week that I had to turn down today because I’m full. Now I can e-mail them and they can experience the glory of Glacier Lily.”
I heard her chuckle.
Then I heard her say, “You sound good.”
I grinned as I successfully settled the casserole dish on the rack in the oven. “I am good.”
There was silence for moment before she said, “No, Cassie, you sound good.”
I straightened and kicked the oven door closed with my foot then looked to the floor, not knowing how to play this.
I lifted my eyes and turned them to the kitchen windows. Through them, I saw Deacon in his chair, feet up on the railing, eyes to the trees.
And I instantly knew how to play this.