Page 97 of Deacon

“Set that fucking thing down,” Jay snaps.

I stop clicking. “I won’t lie down and take it,” I say, my voice dropping. “No easement. I don’t want that development going in on my property line. Do you know what that does to my property value?”

Jay stands, hands on hips. He starts pacing, and I keep quiet and let him think. Finally, he stops and lets out a sigh, like all the air is let out of his tires.

“Do you know how hard it is to fight an easement?” he says quietly.

I shake my head.

He lifts a finger. “I’ve won one easement case in my entire career, and it was due to there being endangered turtles in a pond directly in the path of the road. One of my paralegals had a zoology degree, and he’d done a paper on it. That was it, a couple turtles.”

His point is sinking in. I stare down at the desk.

“I’m already fucked on this case. Don’t go making it harder by beating the shit out of the people dragging you to court,” he says. “It’s a little strip of land. That’s all they see.”

It’s not a little strip of land. It’s Aiden Hatfield selling off his land to let the highway come through, right by mine. It’s the houses they’ll build and all the people who will come flocking in. It’s the way I won’t be able to stand on my back porch and see the land rolling out for miles without a soul in sight.

It’s the way I have to save the home I built for Freya before we even met.

I lift my hands. “What do you want me to do?”

He stops, giving me a hard stare. “Put your fists away,” he says. “No fighting. No fucking Aiden’s stepdaughter. No antagonizing anybody.”

I shake my head. “I can quit fighting. Can’t quit the stepdaughter.”

Jay runs a hand over his face. “You’re lucky I don’t fire you. Get out of my office and keep your hands to yourself.”

He’s actually mad, I can tell. Jay and I go way back, and there’s not a lot we can’t resolve, but I can tell he needs some time to cool off. I get up, turning to speak, but he just points to the door.

“I’ll do my best,” he says. “You do yours.”

“I can do that.”

I leave him there, shoulders bowed. Outside, the wind has picked up. I cross the street and get in my truck, sinking back. If this had all happened a few years ago, I would have handled my frustration differently. I’d have gone down to the city and found something stronger than whiskey and a woman who knew what she was doing to make me forget about it for a few hours.

Not now.

Not now, when all I want is to wake up to Freya’s curly head on the pillow next to me. Not now that I know what she tastes like, the way she lets out a little gasp when she comes, how her nails feel digging into my skin. I want to be in the kitchen with her, doing my best to dance with her to the radio. That’s all I want anymore. I’m done. I’ve already made my choice.

A slow realization settles over me.

Freya didn’t change me. I got older, a little wiser, and that version of me wants the gentleness of a woman like her. My tires are riding lower than they used to be. I’ve got enough stories to last me.

I’m ready to settle down, have been for a while.

I just got one more fight to finish.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

FREYA

It feels like it’s been years since I left Ryder Ranch, even though it’s only been a week.

I wake up disoriented. It takes everything I have to drag myself through the morning. Aiden and Ryland snap at me in the distance, but I respond only insofar as I have to and keep to myself. Bittern is doing something up on the north end of the farm. I don’t know what, but it keeps him occupied.

They go into town on the fourth day. Bittern says something about how they have a meeting with Deacon. Hearing his name feels like a little stab below my ribs.

I think, if I just went to see him, it might help. But deep down, I know that if I go to Ryder Ranch, I’ll never come home. He won’t let me go back to living under Aiden’s roof after what happened the night of the fight. I’m surprised Deacon hasn’t come knocking on the door, except he has to know that will only make things worse for me.

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