We were in this together.
He’d found work in construction, working for a man who had a business in Gnaw Bone named Holden “Max” Maxwell. Weirdly, this was the man who married the woman who got attacked at my cabins years ago.
Strange how life connected like that.
He was a good guy. His wife Nina was an awesome lady, a bit crazy and more outspoken than me, so I dug her. They had two kids. They’d been over for dinner. We’d been over to their place. And when Max lost one of his foremen, he’d promoted Deacon.
Deacon had been working for him for a month.
Seemed Holden Maxwell wasn’t only smart enough to get himself tied to a tough broad, he was smart enough to see he had talent on his team.
So far, Uncle Sam had not cottoned on to Deacon rejoining the citizenry.
That might happen but I wasn’t worried. Deacon and I could weather any storm.
We’d proved that.
Life with Deacon was a beautiful war no way we could lose.
I heard his boots on the steps that led up on the other side, but I didn’t move.
I also heard Bossy’s claws.
She hadn’t defected from me. She still loved her momma. But she preferred Deacon.
I didn’t mind.
I did too.
Then again, it was becoming clear Priest preferred me.
Payback.
My eyes searched for my puppy but he didn’t come out with his daddy. This boded good things, since if he did, we’d need to pay attention so he didn’t get in trouble.
And thus this said Deacon was intent to give his attention to me.
I knew this to be true when Deacon didn’t sit beside me. He sat behind me and surrounded me with his long legs, feet to the step where mine were, his arms wrapping around my middle.
I felt his chin rest on my shoulder and closed my eyes.
Happy.
Completely and utterly.
I opened my eyes.
“Thanks for my gazebo,” I said softly.
I heard the grin in his voice when he replied, “Not a problem.”
He was happy too.
So I was happier.
“Thanks for my laundry building.”
There was a thread of humor in his voice when he said, “Not a problem.”