“Then no, I don’t think it’s horrible or wrong. You’re just two healthy, passionate people, and sex is always an excellent outlet for that kind of energy.” Mom’s mouth curved into an odd smile, and the look in her eyes made me both curious and worried.
“What are you thinking? I can see it on your face, there’s something else, but you don’t want to say it.”
My mother shrugged. “It’s not that I don’t want to say it—it’s that I don’t think you’ll want to hear it.”
I shook my head. “No. I want to hear. Tell me. I’m strong. I can take it.”
“Okay, then. Just remember you asked for it.” Mom washed her hands and reached for a dish towel to dry them. “I was only thinking that Deacon reminds me quite a bit of your father.”
“Daddy?” I didn’t see it. My father wasn’t exactly mild-mannered, but I wasn’t sure I’d call him passionate—not the way Deacon was.
“Yes, Daddy.” Mom leaned against the counter, her enigmatic smile growing. “And as his daughter, you might not recognize that. But as his wife, I can promise you . . . the similarity is there.”
“Oh.Oh.”I made a face. “God, Mom.” Using the flat side of the knife, I swept all the veggies into a bowl absently, thinking about my mother’s claim. “Does that mean there’s something weird about me if I’m dating a guy who reminds you of my father?”
“Not at all.” Mom patted my shoulder. “Deacon doesn’t remindyouof your father—just me. And not in every way. It’s just the vibe. So no, I don’t see anything unhealthy there.” She picked up her wine glass again and twirled the goblet. “Remember our conversation this summer? When you were trying to make up your mind about your relationship with Noah?”
I nodded. “Sure. It was a very enlightening talk that went a long way in helping me make up my mind. Also, I found out I’d been misinformed about how you and Daddy met.”
“Not misinformed. I just left out a few key facts.” She waved one hand. “The point is, we talked about Noah being a safe choice, just as Uncle Cal would have been for me.”
“Yes, and you were absolutely right.”
“Always good to hear those words as a mother.” Mom took a sip of wine. “Noah might have been a safe choice. Deacon is not. Unless I’m very much mistaken, Deacon’s going to be a wild choice, the man who will keep you on your toes all your life. He’s not going to be boring. And if he’s the one for you . . . you’ll never regret choosing him.”
The back door opened, and my father and Deacon strode in, carrying plates of meat and grilled pineapple to go on my salad. They placed the food on the table and wandered into the kitchen.
“Are the side dishes ready? Because the men have brought the meat.” Daddy grinned and then pulled me into an affectionate hug. “Emma, I can’t believe you’re not going to at least try this steak that Deacon and I made. You don’t know what you’re missing.”
“I do, and I’m fine with it.” I stuck out my tongue. My father was constantly worried that my lack of animal protein was going to result in some horrific deficiency that would affect my health, no matter how many studies I sent him on the wonders of the vegan diet.
“Deacon, have you tried to twist her arm about meat? How’s she going to get all the nutrients she needs if she’s sticking to plants?” My dad faced Deacon, looking for an ally.
Deacon shrugged. “Emma does an amazing job getting in all the stuff she needs while sticking to a plant-based diet. I’m not saying I plan to go vegan any time soon, but that’s her choice, and I respect it. I wouldn’t try to change her mind about something that’s clearly so important to her.”
His eyes met mine across the room, and something deep within me shifted in that moment. It was such a little thing . . . but he knew it was important to me, and he respected that.
As we carried the rest of the food to the table, I slipped my hand through Deacon’s arm and stood on my toes to kiss his cheek.
He smiled and brushed a strand of hair away from my eyes. “What was that for?”
“I thought of something else I love about you, and it inspired a kiss.”
“Oh, yeah?” He slid out my chair for me to sit down, taking the seat next to me. “What’s that.”
“I love how you let me be me, and you don’t try to change me. Even when you think I’m dead wrong.”
My mother was topping off our wine glasses. She overheard what I said and paused, setting down the bottle to lift her goblet.
“To love. The wildest, most exhilarating ride we’ll ever take. May we give it, may we receive it, and may we live in it always.”
Deacon’s eyes locked on mine.
“To love,” he echoed. After he’d taken a drink, he leaned over to brush a kiss over my lips. He tasted of wine and happiness and the promise of forever, and I realized that my mother was right. Deacon wasn’t perfect or expected or safe.
He was mine, and that was all that mattered.
15
