“He just wanted to make sure I’m good to you.”
“You’re more than good to me,” Tanner says, sliding his palms up my chest. “I fear I haven’t been as good to you as I should be.”
“What does that mean?”
“Can we go back to my house? I don’t want to have this conversation here.”
“Yeah, Sweetheart. I’m all yours.”
45
TANNER
The entire ride home, all I can think about is how I wish I’d kissed Deacon in the backyard. It would have been romantic—the two of us under the stars in the cool fall air—but there’d been too many thoughts floating around in my head, the need to get out of there overpowering my need for physical touch.
But all that changes the second we walk in the door. He barely has it shut before I spin on him, my arms wrapping around his waist as I push myself flush against his body and crash my lips over his.
He groans, his big hand gripping the back of my neck, holding me in place as his tongue plunders my mouth. It’s grounding and so damn needy, his scent and taste overwhelming my senses to the point of just sayingfuck it, we can talk later.
But we can’t—at least I can’t.
“Deacon,” I pant, ripping myself away, my fingertips touching my swollen lips and wishing already we hadn’t stopped.
“Right. Sorry,” he tries, not looking sorry at all as he toes off his boots and moves around the living space to sit on the far endof the couch. Obviously, he’s trying to put a respectful distance between us, but all I can see is the way the denim stretches across his thighs and the wide set of his legs.
Legs I’ve straddled while he’s gotten us off.
And so much more.
“Do you want me to start?” he asks, my eyes jumping from his lap to find fire in his eyes, his expression full of determination and want…andI want it all.
“I heard Jude say you always wanted to be a dad.”
“And did you hear that I said?—”
Knock. Knock. Knock.
My head whips to the door and back to Deacon. “I wasn’t…”
“I can guess,” he mutters as it bursts open and Briggs practically barrels into me.
“I told you to wait to make sure—” Otto is the next one to enter, looking chagrined as Fallon huffs and slams the door behind her.
“Hi, Tanner, Deacon. I’m sorry, apparently everyone has lost their minds tonight.” She motions arounds frantically. “Can someone please tell me why Case is putting my daughters to bed right now?”
“Briggs has something to say and didn’t want to wait until tomorrow,” Otto offers as Briggs steps back to look at me at the same time Deacon rises to his feet. From where we’re standing, it looks like Briggs is facing off with Fallon and me, while Otto and Deacon stand at his back.
What the hell…
“What happened?” I ask as Fallon takes my hand in both of hers, obviously noticing the samethem against ussituation unfolding.
“I don’t want to talk to Grandma and Grandpa anymore. They’re mean to Dad and they only talk to me if you call first.”
Briggs’s face is flushed, his chest heaving as my eyes ping-pong between him and the men standing sentry—men who didn’t have to but did anyway.
Belatedly, I hear Fallon’s gasp as I drop down, one knee and then the other hitting the floor in front of him.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, as I imagine the tears streaming down my son’s face mirror my own. “I’m so sorry I didn’t know.”
