The Man Who Has No Sight - Victoria Quinn Page 0,17

smiled at him, seeing the man I loved so clearly in that adorable face. With the same hair color, same eye color, and general face structure, it was like having a little, innocent Deacon running around.

When we drove farther into the wilderness, the snow started to look like powder on the sides, perfect mounds that made it seem as if we were driving into a winter wonderland.

Derek kept his eyes out the windows. “Maybe we can go sledding too.”

“We’ll see what your father says,” I said.

Deacon slipped his phone back into his pocket.

“Everything alright?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he answered. “One of my colleagues wanted me to check something on their research.”

I didn’t ask any more questions because I wouldn’t understand the half of it anyway.

We arrived at the gated community then entered the code to get onto the property.

“We’re here!” Derek threw up his arms in excitement. “Look at all that snow!”

There was tons of it all over the property, plenty to keep him busy for hours.

After we parked and got the bags and food, Deacon tipped the driver and carried everything into the house.

Derek was already playing in the snow, making snowballs with his bare hands.

“Honey, put on your gloves.” I walked to him and kneeled so I could secure them over his wrists and Velcro them tightly.

He wiggled his fingers. “But I can’t feel anything.”

“The snow is so cold, you won’t be able to feel anything anyway,” I teased. “You’ll get used to it.” I got to my feet and zipped up the front of my coat. Deacon was in the house, so I stayed outside to keep an eye on Derek and waved to the driver as he left the property. I wondered if Deacon put my bags in his master bedroom where I stayed last time, or if he would put me somewhere else. The cabin was our place to get physical and intimate, but this was a family trip. Maybe we could sneak off during Derek’s naps and when he went to bed early, but it wouldn’t be a sex-a-thon like the other times.

But that was okay. Derek gave us a different kind of happiness.

Deacon came out of the house, wearing a coat and beanie, looking just like his son.

“Dad?”

Deacon came down the steps and walked onto the path. “Yeah?”

Derek straightened, a snowball in his hand, and threw it right at his father’s face.

I covered my mouth and muffled my laughter.

Derek giggled.

Deacon had pieces of snow stuck to his face and eyebrows, and at first, he looked pissed, but after he wiped his face with his hands, a slight smile came through. “You’re gonna pay for that, little man.”

Derek chuckled and ran off, getting cover behind a tree.

Deacon kneeled and rolled the snow between his hands to make a ball before he ran after his son. “Don’t you run from me.”

I pulled out my phone and started to record the whole thing, knowing it was the perfect memory to capture.

“Ahh!” Derek kept running away, knowing his father was going to hit him with that enormous snowball.

I chuckled as I recorded it.

“Oh no.” Deacon dropped the snowball, though it was obviously on purpose, but since Derek faced the other way, he couldn’t see. Deacon probably loved the chase but didn’t want to actually hit his son.

Derek turned around and grinned at the newfound opportunity.

Deacon kneeled and quickly tried to roll a snowball.

“Ha!” Derek grabbed a handful of snow and dumped it on his father’s head, coating him like an avalanche had just struck.

“You little butthead.” Deacon quickly rolled a snowball.

Derek sprinted to me, running as fast as he could over the disheveled snow mounds. “Cleo!”

Deacon sprinted after him.

Derek got behind me, hanging on to my legs. “Save me, Cleo!”

I recorded Deacon running over the mounds, having an easier time because of his height, a snowball in his grasp. “There’s nothing I can do, Derek. We’re both done for.”

Deacon smirked slightly as he looked at me, slowing down while his hand held the ball of snow.

“Come on, Dad,” Derek said as he poked out from behind me. “You wouldn’t hurt Cleo, right?”

He sighed and let the snowball roll off his fingertips. “You’re lucky she’s here to protect you.”

Derek squeezed my legs with a hug. “Thank you, Cleo.”

I chuckled, still recording.

Deacon moved into me, and his arms circled my waist as he gave me a kiss, his lips cold from the snow that had hit his face. But everything else was warm, like the way he hugged me, the