The Man Who Has No Sight - Victoria Quinn Page 0,42

it in his mouth. After a moment, he cringed. “This isn’t candy.”

I turned to Deacon. “I thought since they were mints, Derek wouldn’t want to eat them all.”

Derek spat it out and put it back in the wrapper. “No thanks.”

Deacon smiled. “Good call.”

Derek moved back to the tree and started to shake the boxes to hear what was inside.

Deacon moved his arm around my waist and looked at me, his smile fading and his eyes turning soft. “How did you pull this off?”

“It’s what I do…”

“I guess you really can do anything.”

“That’s what it says on my resume.”

He pulled me close. “So, is there some red Christmas lingerie in my closet?”

I shrugged. “You’ll have to see…”

“Maybe with a Santa hat…”

I shrugged again.

“Fine, tease me.” He hugged me into his body and kissed me. “Thank you. It’s a nice surprise…especially after today.”

I’d always known I was a good person because I felt so happy when I made other people happy. It was what I lived for. And making Deacon happy…made me the happiest. “I thought we should get into the festive spirit…and make this a magical time.”

“Yeah. I agree.” He rubbed my back as he watched his son in front of the tree, looking at the ornaments, the twinkling lights. He breathed a deep sigh as he watched him, like the best gift under that tree was his son.

“Dad?”

“Hmm?” Deacon asked.

“Doesn’t this look like the trees at the cabin?” Derek asked. “You know, covered in snow?”

Deacon nodded. “It does. It looks just like it.” He turned to me, like he knew I’d done that on purpose.

At this angle, I could see the ornaments and lights reflect in his dark eyes. He was often a sour pill that was impossible to swallow, but when he was happy, there was a subtle change to his expression, even when he didn’t smile. I could see it now, see that he was happy. “What a coincidence…”

“I’ve narrowed it down to two women that I think will be great. I’ve interviewed them for hours and hours…called their previous families, and they all said wonderful things. So, it really just depends on who you like more.” I sat beside him at the dining table while Derek was in his room, working on his models.

Deacon turned away from his laptop. “Honestly, I don’t want to interview anyone. Use your best judgment.”

I figured he’d say that. “Deacon, you said you didn’t want a stranger watching your kid. If you let me handle everything, they’ll always be a stranger. You need to meet them, talk to them, shake their hands…”

He sighed and shut his laptop. “I just hate talking to people.”

“I’ve explained to them what kind of demeanor you have. They said they’re used to it.”

“But you’re right. I should meet them.”

“Alright. So, can we do it tomorrow at lunch?”

“I’m working.”

“I’ll escort them there, and you can do it in the office.”

He groaned. “I guess…”

I grabbed his arm and rubbed it. “It’s worth the investment in time if this woman is going to be a part of Derek’s life for years. Ideally, she should be part of the family.”

“No. You, Derek, and I are a family. She’s the nanny—period.”

I knew he meant it in a sweet way rather than a standoffish one, so I took it as a compliment.

He seemed to think the conversation had concluded, so he opened his laptop again.

“So…have you talked to Derek?” Valerie was leaving in a few days.

He looked out the window.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pester you—”

“You never pester me,” he said quietly. “I just…don’t know what to do.”

“I know…”

“I think I’m just going to tell him the truth. Honestly, I can’t think of another explanation anyway.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll do it tomorrow.” He turned his gaze back to me.

“Okay.” I thought about trying to talk to her myself, but I knew that was totally pointless. Seeing my face would just infuriate her, especially since she’d tried to slap me. If she weren’t a client and I didn’t have a contract guiding my behavior, I’d bitch-slap her. But Deacon had stepped in and stopped the problem altogether. “There’s something else I wanted to know.”

He watched me.

“This presentation…is it a big deal?”

He nodded. “It’s the best international conference that discusses new research and advancements in science and medicine. People invited to present are usually selected for Nobel Prizes years into the future, once their evidence becomes concrete. It’s a great way to put your work into the public eye.”

“Wow…I wish I could go with you.”

“Why can’t you?”

“Well…my

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