“Actually, it was my mother’s idea. She thought it might be better if you guys had a place of your own to work. Some shit about making it seem more like real school, so she made us fix up one of the guest rooms.”
I bit back a smile at the words about his mother. It was amusing thinking of any woman barking out orders and him scurrying around to obey her. But I was sure if there was any woman who could bark orders at Deacon, Liz Malloy was that woman, and I admired the hell out of her for it. “That should be fine.”
Across the room from us, Willow sat at one of the round tables. Swathed in a frilly pink boa, a glittering pink tiara sat on her head. Seated with her were two young men in their late teens or early twenties who wore a similar cut like Deacon had. The table was set for a tea party. What caused me to do a double take was the fact that the two men also sported boas and tiaras. When they met my gaze, they both appeared to be in the seventh ring of hell.
Deacon chuckled at what must have been my bewildered expression. “They’re prospects for the club, so they have to do whatever we order them to do.”
“And today’s order of business was a tea party?”
With a shrug, Deacon replied, “Willow wanted one.”
Adjusting my bag on my shoulder, I eyed him. “And why aren’t you a part of the party?”
Smirking, Deacon replied, “While I might play princesses with Willow at home, there’s no way in hell I would do it in front of my men.”
I stared at him in disbelief. “You play princesses?”
Deacon flashed me a cocky grin. “I prefer the blue crown and boa because it brings out my eyes.”
A laugh burst from my lips. “Is that right?”
“It is.”
Glancing from him to the prospects, I said, “Let me guess. If you wore it in front of everyone, it would ruin your outlaw reputation.”
“Precisely.”
At that moment, Willow bounded over to us. “Miss Alex!” she squealed, before throwing her arms around my waist. Mine and Deacon’s conversation was forgotten with Willow’s enthusiastic greeting.
“Hi sweetheart. How are you?” I asked, as I squeezed her back.
“Good. I’ve been waiting all day to see you. I finished all the work you left me.”
“You did?” I asked with surprise. While some of the worksheets were review activities of what we had been doing, I’d never expected her to finish so fast.
“Uh-huh. I’ll go get them.”
As Willow sprinted away, Deacon chuckled “You bring out the fucking chatterbox in her.”
“If you stepped inside my classroom, you’d say I brought it out in all kids since they never seem to stop talking,” I joked.
The amusement slipped from Deacon’s expression. “I wish she talked to me like that.”
A pang reverberated through my chest at both his words and the longing in his eyes. “Doesn’t she talk to you?”
“She does. But not as much as my mother. Or to you.”
“Maybe it’s because she’s missing her mother and searching for a mother figure.”
“Maybe.” Deacon’s expression darkened. “Her shrink seems to think it’s because she can’t trust men because of issues in her past.”
An ache burned through my chest at the thoughts of Willow being hurt. “Do they think the abuse was emotionally or…” I couldn’t bring myself to finish that sentence.
“Both,” he gritted out. As his fists clenched at his sides, he replied, “The only saving grace is there wasn’t anything sexual.”
“Thank God for small mercies.”
After absently scratching the back of his neck, he cocked his brow at me. “What can I do to get her to talk to me more?” At what must’ve been my questioning expression, Deacon grunted. “And yes, I play games and shit with her like the shrink suggested.”
