The Man Who Has No Heart - Victoria Quinn Page 0,30
loving, affectionate, and grateful to have a son like Derek.
“Want to join us for dinner? Grilled chicken breasts with rice and veggies.”
Derek cringed from the kitchen. “Ugh. Chicken nuggets!”
He didn’t take his eyes off me. “Or chicken nuggets, if you prefer.”
I should say no and leave, but I was tired of denying his requests when I wanted to stay…when I didn’t want to go home to my empty apartment with the sound of the TV in the background. I wanted to hear Deacon’s voice, hear Derek’s laughter. “I’ll pass on the nuggets. But the first thing on the menu sounds good.”
“Great.” He smiled at me, wearing the handsomest smile I’d ever seen, the kind that showed all his teeth and made his eyes shine. He gave me a one-armed hug as I came inside then shut the door behind me.
The touch was quick, but it was natural.
Like he didn’t think twice about it.
Derek eyed his father’s glass of wine. “What’s that?”
“Wine.” Deacon cut into his food.
“It looks like dirty water.”
I chuckled. “Good observation.”
“Can I have some?” He reached for the glass.
Deacon pushed it away. “Why are you so interested in alcohol all of a sudden?”
He shrugged, sitting in front of his empty plate. “Grown-ups drink it all the time.”
“But you aren’t a grown-up.”
“Yeah…I guess. Where does wine come from?”
“Grapes,” Deacon answered.
“Doesn’t my juice come from grapes?”
“Correct.” Deacon never showed a hint of annoyance with all the questions.
“So…am I drinking wine?” Derek asked.
“No. The grapes go through a fermentation process,” Deacon explained. “Which brings out the alcohol. And the grapes in vineyards are different from the kinds put into your juice. If you were to take grape off a vine and put it in your mouth, it would taste sour, not sweet.”
Derek absorbed the information, like he was thinking it over.
“How’s your mom?” Deacon asked.
Derek left his asparagus on the plate, only eating the nuggets his father made. “Same.”
“Do you have fun with her?”
“Not really,” he answered. “She’s boring. She never likes to do anything.”
That didn’t surprise me at all. She’d only had a son to tie down Deacon, not to nurture him and raise him into an amazing person. It was completely selfish. Ugh, I hated her. I could barely think about her without getting worked up about it.
Deacon didn’t ask any more questions.
“So, what are we doing tomorrow?” Derek asked. “Going to the cabin?”
“Actually, we’re taking you to the planetarium,” Deacon answered.
We?
“Seriously?” Derek slid his fingers into his thick hair, so excited he might explode like a rocket. “Dad, that’s so awesome! I’ve always wanted to go. It’s going to be so cool! Like the coolest thing ever…” He continued to ramble.
Deacon turned to me, smiling slightly as he listened to his son go on and on.
I smiled back, knowing he was thanking me with his look, sharing his son’s excitement with me…like I was part of the family.
I’d turned one of Deacon’s guest rooms into a permanent bedroom for Derek.
I had a feeling he would be visiting a lot more.
Deacon walked inside, saw the walls covered with space-themed wallpaper with a poster of Neil Armstrong on the moon like the one he had at home, the bed, and the other matching furniture I’d placed inside. There were framed pictures of him and Deacon on the walls, pictures I took at the cabin. “Wow…this is so cool.” He ran to the bed and started to jump on it.
Deacon leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest, staring at his son with a slight grin on his face. “I think he likes it.”
He kept jumping. “Look, I’m like Armstrong on the moon…”
Deacon chuckled. “I’m going to walk Cleo out. I’ll be right back.”
Derek was too interested in his room to care.
Deacon turned away and pulled out his phone from his pocket, firing off a quick text. Then he returned it to his pocket. “Thanks for picking him up today.”
“My pleasure.”
“I would go myself, but I don’t think it would be productive to see Valerie in the flesh. I know you’re busy, so I would send someone else, but I don’t trust anyone else with Derek.”
That was the biggest compliment he’d ever given me. “I don’t mind.”
“How was she?” He stepped into the hallway.
I decided not to tell him how psycho she was. “Fine. What are you doing?”
He turned back to me.
“Deacon, you don’t need to walk me out.”
He glanced into the residence, like he was torn. He wanted to walk me out, but he didn’t want to leave