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We’re sitting, facing each other, and his beautiful eyes focus on our hands, our connection. He hesitates, and his brows pull together. “My father always loved going to Harristown so much… I never knew it was because of his mom… my grandmother.”
Now I frown. “What happened?”
He exhales quietly. “She lost a baby there. It was stillborn.”
“Oh, Deacon.” My heart sinks. “I’m so sorry… Are you okay?”
“I didn’t want to come back until I knew everything. I spent the last few days following her trail. It was pretty twisted.”
Reaching out, I slide my hand down his arm. “Tell me what happened.”
Blue eyes meet mine, and he’s not smiling. “My grandmother was a beautiful woman. People who knew her said she was the most beautiful woman they’d ever seen.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“Two men loved her… best friends. She married the rich one, my grandfather.” He blinks over my shoulder, and my heart beats faster. “But after seven or so years, she had an affair. She got pregnant and went to her friend in Harristown to give birth.”
“Why would she do that?”
“She was afraid my grandfather would see the baby and know what she’d done.”
My voice is quiet, my insides trembling. “How would he know?”
“The baby’s father was Manuel Treviño.”
My grandfather. My throat knots, and I stand, walking slowly around my room, thinking about this, about what he just told me. “You mean… your grandmother had an affair with my grandfather? How is it possible?”
“Apparently, they knew each other. Our grandfathers were friends.”
“And your grandmother…”
“It explains the bad blood between our families.” He’s sitting on the foot of my bed watching me. “My grandfather must have found out.”
“So you think Beto is telling the truth?” It feels like a weight is sitting on my chest. “You think your grandfather shot mine?”
Deacon’s eyes drop to his hands. “I think I found a motive…”
Honor… Loyalty to your family… Our father died a broken man…
My brother’s angry words are in my brain, squeezing my heart and twisting my insides. Shaking my head, I don’t want to think about these events that have nothing to do with us.
“I understand if you want me to go.”
“No!” Crossing the room quickly, I climb onto his lap in a straddle, wrapping my arms around his neck and pressing my chest to his. “I want you to stay.”
Strong arms are around me, holding me close. We’re breathing fast, our hearts beating quickly. We take several long moments, letting the truth of our family’s history settle in the spaces around us.
I want to cry. I want to crawl under the blankets with him and hide. I want to go back to the way things used to be. “Remember when it was only us?”
“It was never only us.” His voice is quiet.
“We could still pretend.” My arms are around him, and I hold on tight. I never want to let go.
He exhales and his arms relax. Sitting up, I find his beautiful face, sexy lips curl slightly. It’s the first hint of a smile he’s given me since he returned. It helps my muscles relax. It gives me the smallest bit of hope.
He slides a curl behind my ear with his fingers. “We can’t live our lives that way. We have to figure out what to do.”
“I don’t know…” I kiss his cheek, moving closer to his ear. “I can ignore them for a little while. Pretend this history isn’t ours… it’s not our problem.”
