Deck stepped closer—not aggressive, just certain.
“Get your arse over there,” he said. “Knock on the woman’s door. Tell her the truth plain, for once in your well-pressed life, and bring your girl home.”
Reid stared at him.
Deck held the look without blinking.
Then, because he was Deck and apparently unwilling to leave well enough alone, he added, “And if you start talkin’ like a brief instead of a man, I’ll come over there myself and fix it.”
That got a real laugh out of Reid.
“Noted.”
“Good.”
Deck started down the sidewalk, then stopped and looked back over his shoulder.
“One more thing.”
Reid waited.
Deck’s expression shifted, barely. Enough to show the affection under all the gravel.
“Don’t wait for her to invite you in,” Deck said softly. “She’s spent her whole life thinkin’ she’s too much trouble to ask for what she wants. If you wait for her to ask, you’ll be waiting forever. Walk through the damn door.”
Reid felt that one all the way down. He nodded once, sharp and sure.
“Understood.” This time, he started walking.
64
Eleanor’s House
Only one light burned inside the house—low and warm from somewhere farther back, maybe the bedroom, maybe the hall. Late enough that he told himself what any sane man would—she was tired…, she was likely already in bed, and whatever he had come here to say could wait until morning.
He dragged a hand over his jaw, turned slightly back toward the direction he had come
—and heard Deck O’Rourke in his head as clearly as if the man stood on the porch beside him.
Get your arse over there.
Reid shut his eyes once.
“Yeah,” he muttered to nobody.
He went to the door. He didn’t ring the bell. Movement caught his eye through the sidelight glass as Eleanor came down the hall barefoot, lifting her hands to gather her hair.
Reid’s pulse hammered. She was wearing his shirt—the hem hitting high on her thighs. The sight of her in his clothes hit low and hard in his gut.
She saw him. Stilled. Then she opened the door.
His gaze dropped slowly over the shirt, down the long line of her legs, and back to her face.
“I came for my shirt,” he said, his voice dropping a notch.
Eleanor’s fingers curled into the blue cotton. “Did you?”
Reid stepped into the hall, the door clicking shut behind him with a finality that made the quiet house feel smaller. He stopped close enough to feel her warmth.
