Page 48 of When You Saved Me

“This is my home too.”

His hand stilled. I wanted to slam my foot straight into my mouth. This wasn’t my home. This was Deacon’s home.ThatIhad intruded with my cat. I needed to calm my jets and not say anything else that might have him running for the hills. “For the time being, I mean. Let me help.”

I loosed an anxious breath when he nodded and brought me back another paper towel.

Keep it together, Charlie.One amazing night with a man does not mean he wants you to take ownership of his house.

His heavy footsteps creaked on the floorboards as he headed into the living room and settled onto the couch. After the floor was dry and I discarded the paper towels, I sat on the sofa next to him, but not touching him.

“Is that what it was like in Afghanistan? The snow piled up that high?” He was staring into the fire, and I realized he must have put a few more logs onto it while I was cleaning up because it was bigger than before.

My stomach twisted into knots as I noticed the shadows in his eyes had reappeared. The intimate bubble we’d shared before had popped and I was left with the one version of him that I couldn’t break through.

Much to my surprise, he shifted and turned his attention to me. “Sometimes worse,” he stated plainly, and I tried not to let him see how much his response affected me.

Talk to me.Give me that smile again. Please.

When he said nothing else, I settled into the quiet and tried not to let this change in his demeanor ruin the night we’d shared. He was allowed to have his feelings. It was okay that he shifted like this.

Or at least that’s what I told myself, so I didn’t break down.

I pulled Casper into my lap, needing something to keep me grounded. He purred loudly as I scratched between his ears and ran my hand down his back.

“I lost a lot of good friends over there,” Deacon’s husky voice broke through the silence like a bolt of lightning.

The green in his eyes darkened as they settled back on me. “It’s difficult for me to think back to that time.”

“I’m so sorry, Deacon. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

There was a heavy pause between us. I felt like a jerk for pushing him. Just because I was able to manage the trials I’d faced in life with ease didn’t mean everyone had the same experience as me. Some people didn’t want to talk about what they’d been through. Some just wanted to forget.

“Don’t do that,” he whispered into the space between us, the planes of his face solid as stone.

“Do what?” The words were thick on my tongue.

“Regret asking questions you want to know the answers to.”

I looked down at the floor. “It’s none of my business. Sometimes I just need to keep my mouth shut.”

The rough pad of his thumb slid under my chin as he gently shifted my face toward him again. My breath hitched as I took in his devastatingly beautiful face. The sharp edges of his jaw and pronounced cheekbones. His thick lashes that made him look boyish up close, curbing the edges of his gruff nature. And those lips. God how I already loved those lips and everything they were capable of making me feel.

“Don’t stop being curious just because it’s hard. God…” His head dropped low for a moment before he lifted his chin and shook his head at the ceiling. When his gaze landed on me again, he said, “I wish I possessed your ease with being open. I wish I could lay all my cards on the table and not have the aftermath impact me the way it does. I want to try… Iamtrying with you, Charlie. Just…give me some time. I’ve never done this before. Not with anyone.”

Heat stung my eyes. I blinked to stop the tears from forming. “Take as much time as you need. I’ll be right here when you’re ready.”

He smiled his brilliant smile that I knew he kept hidden most of the time. Then he pulled me into his lap and wrapped his arms around me.

The only sound was the beat of his heart against my cheek and the crackling logs in the hearth. The sounds I fell asleep to. A gentle lullaby that I wanted to hear again and again.

Chapter 18

Deacon

Bright white light landed on my living room floor from the window Charlie sat in front of. Her easel took up most of the corner with the large canvas settled on top of it. Her paints sat to her right as she combined colors onto her palette.

The long auburn strands of her hair were tied up high on the top of her head. Tendrils of curls draped loosely down her back and behind her ears. I paused behind the couch, taking in the view of her working. She was so small compared to the giant painting in front of her.

It amazed me how she was able to make the image of the tiny cabin’s backyard come to life. The way she moved the brush across the painting, taking care with the high and low-lights of the trees and water, made the image come to life as if I were standing right there. The crunchy winter grass beneath my feet and the smell of crisp fresh air in my lungs.

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