Page 16 of When You Saved Me

When he let out a loud purr, I wasn’t sure if he was telling me yes or trying to ward me away, but I selfishly took it as confirmation that Deacon might have a prickly personality, but that his friend, Sarah, was right. Behind his hard exterior, he was a soft teddy bear on the inside.

Deacon came back through the door with what appeared to be a collapsible grab-stick. Not having a clue what it did, I stayed silent but made my way back to the small living space.

“Let me know if you need any help.”

A small smile pulled at the corners of his lips before he laid on his back and started stretching the stick upward, latching the small pieces together the further up it went. Deacon’s large hand grasped the edge of the hearth as he hoisted himself further into the space.

I swallowed when my mind wandered to what those hands might be capable of doing.

My thoughts were cut short when a scraping sound rustled in the chimney right before a giant pile of sticks and ash came tumbling down, covering Deacon’s face in soot.Eyes squeezed shut, he lurched forward and started coughing wildly.

I hurried to his side. “Oh my gosh! Are you okay?”

He coughed one more time before leaning himself against the hearth. When he looked at me, his bright green eyes seemed even more vivid against the charcoal soot that covered his entire face.

When he scowled, I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of me. When his frown deepened, I laughed harder.

“I’m sorry,” I breathed between laughs. “You should see your face right now. It’s completely covered in ash.”

He raised his palm and before I could say no, he ran his hand over his face, smearing the soot even more. “You’ve only made it worse,” I laughed again and when his eyes settled on me, I saw the frustration rising which only made my giggle fit worsen.

It was the most ridiculous sight I’d ever seen. The way his eyes gleamed pine green against the gray color of the ash made it look like he was a wild animal in the forest peering through the night. Raising his hands, he looked at them with annoyance then grunted in defeat before leaning his head back to rest on the stone hearth.

Eyes closed, he murmured, “Well, I think we’ve found the problem with the chimney.”

I looked to the open fireplace where the bundle of sticks, a thread of twine and some moss laid disassembled. Then I turned back to Deacon. “Thank you for helping me with it.” I bit my bottom lip to refrain from laughing again.

“Stay here, I’m going to get you a washcloth.” Deacondidn’t move as I went to the bathroom and wetted a washcloth.

When I went back to his side, Casper had become curious of all the commotion and was gingerly exploring the open hearth and broken bird’s nest. I lowered to the floor and Deacon reached for the washcloth. I pulled my hand back so he couldn’t reach it. “Let me.”

Something shifted in his gaze like he was hesitant to allow me to help. For a moment I thought he was going to protest, but then he shifted his large frame, so his back was more straight against the stone, giving me better access to his face and neck.

My thigh rested against his as I scooted closer. Swallowing the dryness in my throat, I reached forward with the wet cloth and wiped the ash from his forehead. Deacon sucked in a sharp breath, and I yanked my hand back.

“Are you okay?” I assessed his face for any injury of where the sticks might have struck him, but didn’t see any signs.

Those beautiful eyes grew wide for a moment, darting back and forth between mine. So many unspoken words were written in his expression. Part of me wanted to coax him to tell me something…anything. Questions of my own clanged around in my mind, but my lips stayed shut.

Neither one of us looked away as the silence between us grew. The tension was nearly unbearable when I felt the warmth of Deacon’s calloused hand wrap around mine as he brought my hand and the cloth I still held to his temple.

“Keep going.” His gruff voice sent a cascade ofgoosebumps over my skin. My arm hung in midair while I looked at him. This giant man sprawled on my living room floor had come back into my life for a reason it seemed.

My mom had always taught me to believe in divine signs. That if I followed my heart, fate would place me right where I was meant to be. As I took in the sight of Deacon’s handsome face with inky lashes fanning over his eyes, a chiseled jawline and dark brows I felt a line go taut between us. It was the same tether that I clung to all those years ago.

The one that kept me alive.

Maybe most would chalk it up to coincidence. It wasn’t like North Carolina was far away from Georgia. The likelihood that we might end up in the same place was a fairly comprehensible thought.

But there was something more at play here. I could feel it as he shifted slightly when I finally settled the cloth on the side of his face and swiped downward, revealing more of his tan skin.

We couldn’t keep existing like this. Acting as passing ships in the night. Noticing one another without truly saying hello.

It…bothered me.

“Are we going to talk about it?” I asked hesitantly.

His gaze flickered like he knew exactly what I was getting at. “What is there to talk about?”

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