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"Thanks, I made those ones in art class. See, I have more on the side of the refrigerator here."
True to her word, she displays a few more sketches in a sort of collage effect. She takes the lead on a personal tour, guiding me throughout the house. Her room is exactly as I'd imagined it, all pink and flowery, filled with more toys than a child could play with in a lifetime. It's overflowing with character and sweetness, just like the owner herself.
In a few moments, we step out into the hallway and Sasha points to a closed door. "That's Daddy's room," she explains, and like magic, the door swings open, and a shirtless Deacon stands in its frame.
My throat instantly goes dry, and words are rendered unthinkable as my tongue is glued to the roof of my mouth. I fan myself without realizing it, and when I catch myself, I drop my hand to my side and hide it behind my back.
"Harper," he greets me with a note of surprise.
"Daddy! Harper brought pastries for breakfast!"
Her enthusiasm brings some color back into my world, and I snap out of my momentary shock. I'm trying hard to compose myself. I'm flustered, and my stomach has jumped up into my throat. Has it really been this long since I've laid eyes on Deacon's bare skin? The last time I can recall seeing him shirtless was at the community pool in high school.
"What are you doing here? You know what, it's fine. Give me just a minute, okay? Let me just put a shirt on and I'll meet you two in the kitchen for some of those pastries. Sasha, can you pour me a glass of juice, please?"
"Sure thing, Daddy," she replies, spinning and skipping toward the kitchen. I wonder if my face is as flushed as his as we stand frozen at the end of the hallway. It seems silly, but I can't tear my gaze away from his sculpted torso.
"I'll just, uh... be downstairs," I finally murmur, starting to move. I give him a brief nod before going down the hall. By the time I enter the kitchen, Sasha is arranging the pastries on large white plates, and she's even poured glasses of juice for everyone.
"Smells like those are fresh," Deacon notes, appearing beside me, all dressed now. "From the bakery downtown?"
I nod, "I picked them up on my way over. I saw Bella there. She says hello."
"I'm sure she said a bit more than that," he teases, giving me a wink. "She never was my biggest fan. I'm sure after you told her about that developer wanting to buy the resort-"
"I didn't tell her," I interrupt him. "I'm not a Red Hat Lady, Deacon. I don't go around spreading gossip. It's not my business to tell."
He's sizing me up like he's trying to gauge whether I'm telling the truth or not. "Well, I appreciate that, Harper. Hey, Sasha, could you go take a bath and get ready for the day, sweetie? You're getting awfully sticky there."
Sasha looks down at her hands, where the sticky pastry drizzles down her fingers onto her plate. "Okay," she murmurs, giving me a quick smile before finishing up and disappearing from the kitchen.
We eat in tense silence for a few minutes, and once Deacon finishes his first pastry and a glass of orange juice, he looks up at me. I expect his eyes to be sharp and accusatory, but instead they're soft and calm. "I tried to come after you last night. You high-tailed it out of the resort pretty fast."
"Deacon, listen," I begin. "I was upset. After that conversation, it felt like my whole world was crashing down. I don't know anything but the resort."
"I know you said not to think about this with my emotions, but I just can't do that. It’s different for you. You haven't lived in this town for a long time. To you, the resort is just a memory. For me and the staff, it's our lives."
"I wouldn't leave you hanging," he starts, but this time, I talk over him. I've got to get this all out at once or lose my nerve.
"I'm not asking you for a handout. With my experience, I could get a job somewhere else. But I've made a home for myself at that place. I know everybody, and they all know me. I know I sound selfish but these people are my family, they're all I've got. And whether you realize it or not, they're your family, too. Do you really think your parents would approve of what you're considering?”
He growls slightly in frustration, rubs his chin, and then brushes his fingertips across the still-damp ends of his black hair. It takes him a moment to gather himself before he shoots back, "No. You're absolutely right. I would never hear the end of it."
"Exactly." I pause for a second, folding and unfolding my napkin on the table. "I know that place has come to mean something to Sasha, too. She loves it there, look at the pictureson the refrigerator. One day, it should go to her. In ten years when she's looking back, you wouldn't want her to think money was more important than family history."
Deacon tilts his head, "You are nothing if not passionate, Harper Clark."
When my heart stops pounding and I've given him time to absorb my words, I finish my thoughts. "With all that being said, I wanted to sit down and appeal to you one more time as your friend to reconsider doing business with Jon."
"My friend, huh?" His adorable smile is a bit distracting but I keep my focus.
“I have no right to tell you what to do, but I'm hoping you can find it in your heart to give the resort a chance to thrive under your leadership. I promise I will fight harder than ever to bring in more customers, to prove to you that this isn't just my way of saving my neck, but that it is also the right thing to do for everyone in Greenwood."
Deacon licks his lips, sighs deeply, then rests his hand on top of mine. Warmth and tingles explode inside of me, and for a moment, time freezes, leaving me completely immobile. "You are an amazing woman, Harper. Your spirit never ceases to amaze me. I don't blame you for not wanting to roll over and give up everything you've spent so long working for. I respect you for standing up for it. And, selfishly, I like you a lot.”
“If it were anybody else asking this of me, I don't know if I would even consider it, but you've come to mean so much to me. We haven't been together for long, but so much has changed between us. I believe in you. You're strong and smart and beautiful, and I know you have the perseverance and creativity it would take to continue breathing life into that resort. So, I'm not going to sell it."
I can't stop the squeal that erupts from my throat. I lean across the table, planting a juicy kiss on his lips. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you," I repeat over and over.
