I had no choice but to return the favor.
It wasn’t a hardship.
It was early evening. I’d made Deacon and I a sandwich, and after we’d eaten them, while he moved his stuff from cabin eleven to my place at my request, I went down to cabin six to get the comforters and tell Milagros cabin eleven needed cleaned and that I needed her to stop by and check in on things tomorrow while I was away for a few hours. I also told her I had something going so I couldn’t have a cup of coffee with her when she was done.
I didn’t tell her about Deacon. Mostly because there wasn’t yet anything to say. But also because I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to tell her about Deacon.
I had to admit, this troubled me, but not enough to deter me from the choice I’d made.
We were changed. That was all I needed.
For now.
We’d find out how it was going to go.
Luckily, I often had something going so Milagros didn’t blink that I couldn’t have a cup of coffee. She also didn’t mind popping by tomorrow to make sure all was well at Glacier Lily while Deacon and I went to put a deposit down on a puppy.
I dealt with the laundry and when I got back, Deacon told me he had something to deal with. He didn’t tell me what. He also didn’t tell me that whatever it was required his complete attention, as in, his presence. I found that out after he cupped my jaw and told me he had something to deal with and then he walked out of my house.
He came back for dinner, something I had ready in hopes he’d be back.
We ate it with not a lot of muss and fuss, time taken, or conversation.
He helped me do the dishes just like he had at Christmas (this being surprising, then and now, but I’d had a lot of surprises that day so I rolled with it).
Then he took my hand again and led me upstairs.
Which brought me to now, lying naked in my bed with a naked Deacon on top of me, still inside me, nuzzling me and stroking me after sex.
He was mellow. I was mellow. The decision was made by the both of us.
We were beginning.
Thus I decided it was time to take a chance.
So I asked, “How old are you?”
“Thirty-eight.”
His answer seared through me in a happy way, getting it and the ease with which in came.
He lifted his head and looked down at me. “You?”
“Thirty.”
He grinned.
I saw it and stilled.
Completely.
Taking in his magnificence, I wondered how I ever could have been frightened of this man.
“Just a baby,” he said softly.
“No, I’m not,” I disagreed.
“Yeah, you are,” he disagreed with me.