Page 35 of Deceive Me
Sydney grinned. “Told ya.”
Elliot stuck her tongue out at her companion. They both laughed before getting down to the nitty-gritty of enjoying their tea party.
He gave them a few more minutes—and gave himself a few to enjoy watching them—before interrupting. Elliot’s head jerked up as soon as he entered, a bright pink blush staining her cheeks. “Deacon.”
It took him a moment to work through the reaction to her eyes on him, that kick to the solar plexus that hadn’t changed since that first moment in Jack’s office, and remember why he was here. They were supposed to work with Sydney this afternoon. Deacon played “the game” with her at least once a month, reminding her of safety procedures without seeming to. Given the alarm yesterday, he’d wanted Elliot to see the plan, not just read about it in a file. “Elliot.” He came to a stop, staring down at her. “You have crumbs on your lips.”
“Oh!”
Sydney giggled as Elliot grabbed a napkin to wipe her mouth. Elliot gave her a look. “I’m not the only one with crumbs,” she said pointedly.
Sydney grinned and popped a cookie in her mouth.
Deacon chuckled. “We have a date,” he reminded his daughter.
“Right!” Sydney jumped up, mouth still full of chocolate cookie. “Ha’ to cwean up.”
Deacon helped them stack china and move everything aside, promising to cart the dishes down to the kitchen in a little bit. First, “Are you ready to show Elliot our game?”
With a squeal that had both he and Elliot shaking a finger in their ear—there was nothing wrong with his daughter’s lungs, obviously—Sydney made a wild dash for the bed. Deacon took the opportunity to reach for Elliot where she still knelt on the ground next to the tea set. She hesitated, eyeing his hand as if it were a snake she wasn’t sure she could wrangle, and then her smaller fingers wrapped in his and he was pulling her onto her feet.
Her body heat warmed him across the foot of air that separated them, but she didn’t meet his eyes.
“Elliot.”
Her name was low and gravelly, containing all the command he could infuse into it. Elliot’s gaze snapped to his. He let himself enjoy the faint pink blush that reappeared, sweeping across her cheeks, down her neck. Did it reach her breasts? Could he provoke that same reaction the first time he had her in bed, see exactly how far it spread without the barrier of clothes hiding her from him?
“Daddy?”
Shit. He could not keep doing this. He shook away the lust clouding his brain and turned to Sydney. “Ready?”
Her nod was excited, happy. The contrast between her childish innocence and the purpose behind this exercise made him ache. But just as she always did with these little “games,” Sydney seemed to see them as fun, picking up Katie Kitty and dancing her along the comforter as she waited for Deacon’s signal.
He motioned Elliot over to the corner and leaned against the wall.
“What are we doing?” Elliot whispered.
“Waiting.”
“Why?”
Her face drew him, even when concern for his daughter felt like it would tear apart his lungs. Staring down, he saw the same concern reflected in Elliot’s beautiful blue eyes. God, the color was stunning, almost a shock each time he saw them, especially in contrast to the white-blonde shade of her hair.
He slid his hand into the hip pocket of his fatigues. “To catch her off guard,” he answered and pressed the button on the remote he carried.
A loud beep sounded from the small speaker mounted above their heads, similar to the one that sounded on the team members’ comms when there was a breach, but aloud instead of only in their earbuds. Deacon knew the same tone was being repeated in every room in the house. No matter where Sydney was, no matter where he was, he wanted her warned as early as possible.
His daughter knew exactly what to do. Clutching Katie Kitty to her chest, she hopped off the bed and went directly to her closet. Just inside, she grabbed her small purple backpack and pulled it on as she ran for the door. So little, so eager.
Elliot took a step to follow.
“Wait.”
She turned her head, probably to argue, but he laid a finger against her lips. “I know. I hate it too, but she knows where to go. Every damn time I have to force myself to stay put, wait it out, not help her—because if I have to sound that alarm, I won’t be here to help her. She has to do it on her own.”
A vee formed between Elliot’s brows, but she clamped her lips shut against any protest. The drag of her skin along his fingers made his breath catch. He allowed himself a single soft tap, a small show of his gratitude, and then he dropped his hand.
“What’s in her bag?” Elliot asked.
