Jerking my chin at her, I said, “Go on and lie back down.”
“You don’t want me to go?”
“No, I don’t.”
Surprise flooded her face. “I just expected that?—”
“Don’t you ever shut up?”
Her eyes narrowed slightly before she flounced back in the bed, burrowing under the covers. Of course while she was doing that, I got another flash of her bra covered tits and those damn boy shorts. While her behavior still had me fuming, just the sight of that sexy, yet strong, body of hers fueled other reactions in me.
Damn, that woman.
Once she was covered, I walked around the side of the bed. I eased down on the mattress to honor her request of staying until she fell asleep. Of course, I kept my ass on top of the covers and as far away as I could from her. When I thought she had finally settled down, I reached over and hit the light.
“Deacon?” she implored.
“Alex, if you know what is good for you right now, you’ll close your fucking eyes and go to sleep.”
“I just wanted to say thank you.”
“What the hell for?”
“For talking with me tonight. It means a lot.”
While I would never admit it to her, it meant a lot to me, too. The smallest sliver of peace ran through me. Regardless of how small it was, I would gladly take it. “Yeah, whatever,” I grumbled.
Then I allowed myself to fall asleep next to a woman for the first time in my life.
CHAPTER TWELVE: ALEXANDRA
Sunlight streamed across the bed, warming me from beneath the sheets. The moment my eyelids fluttered open, panic set in. Where was I? My eyes frantically spun around the room. And then it all came rushing back to me along with the feeling of a brass band pounding out a rhythm in my aching head. I groaned as the memories of getting drunk off my ass and begging Deacon to stay with me flooded my mind. It also didn’t escape me that I was in just my bra and panties. Of course, I was glad to remember that it had been me that took my clothes off and not Deacon.
Holy shit, I’d slept with Deacon.
Glancing over, I found the bed empty. For some reason, it bothered me more than it should have. Rolling over, I felt the indention Deacon had made in the bed. I guess he really had just stayed until I’d fallen asleep.
When I thought of what he told me, I flopped onto my back and rubbed my head. I’d never imagined he would ever be so open and honest with me. Even though he did it kicking and screaming, it meant so much to me.
I don’t know what it was within me that needed him to entrust something so dark with me. Even though he wouldn’t acknowledge it, I could see him so much better than he could have ever imagined. He had locked himself down so tight emotionally that the only way he could fully accept and love Willow would be to let go of the ghosts of the past and the pain they still inflicted on him.
While I should have been horrified that he had murdered his father, I wasn’t. After the lifetime of hell he had faced, coupled with his mother’s death, he had been justified in doing what he did. I didn’t know what it said about me as a person that I could overlook something so terrible in his past.
A knock came at the door. “Yes?” I called, pulling the covers up to my neck.
Deacon appeared with a cup of coffee and something wrapped in a napkin. “Mama Liz sent this to you.”
Sitting up in the bed, I reached for the goodies. After sitting the coffee down on the nightstand, I unwrapped the napkin. “Oh, a homemade biscuit. I haven’t had one of these in years.”
My heartbeat thrummed wildly at the genuine smile that stretched across his face. I so rarely got to see that type of smile—one that didn’t hide sarcasm or a teasing remark. “She thought you might like it.”
“I hope she didn’t go to all this trouble just for me.”
“Nah, she makes a big breakfast for us every morning.”
“Where’s Willow?” I asked, after taking a sip of scorching hot coffee.
“Back at the house. I didn’t think it would be a good idea to let her know you were here.”
