Page 55 of Beautiful Rush
“Good. I’ll message you the address.”
“Deacon?”
“Yeah?”
I chewed on my bottom lip. Two nights ago, I had felt so close to him, like I could tell him anything. Yet now I was questioning every word out of my mouth and wondering how he’d interpret it. “I have the day off on Monday too.”
“Then I guess you’d better pack a bag.”
I smiled. There was no hesitation in his voice, no pause to think it over before he uttered the words. He wanted to see me, and he wanted to spend time with me. “You won’t have to leave before the sun rises on Monday morning?”
“Nope. I’ll be all yours.”
All mine.
I wanted to hang on the phone and just listen to his voice or the sound of his breathing, but he said goodbye and cut the call, so I packed a bag, excited about the prospect of spending two days with Deacon.
17
Keira
Ipulled into the gravel driveway behind Deacon’s Escalade and peered through my windshield at the log cabin. My lips curved into a smile. It was an actual log cabin, two stories with a dark green roof, set back from the road and surrounded by woods. Adirondack chairs sat on the front porch and cheerful orange and yellow flowers spilled from the window boxes. Grabbing my duffel bag from the passenger seat, I stepped out of my car. The first thing I noticed was how quiet it was up here. The house was in a town called Bearsville, in the Catskills, only two hours’ drive from the city, but it felt so remote and worlds away from city life. The next thing I noticed was the silver Honda parked in front of Deacon’s SUV.
The front screen door opened, the hinges squeaking in protest, and closed behind Deacon as he walked toward me, his hands in the front pockets of his running shorts. For some reason, that seemed worth noting.
He stopped in front of me, his hands still stuffed in his damn pockets. “You made it.”
“Yeah, here I am.” I stared at the bruises on his face. In the light of day, they looked so much worse. A deep purple-blue marring his suntanned skin. His lips were dry and cracked, with dried blood from his split lip. I lifted my eyes to his. He gave me a little smile but made no move to kiss me hello.
I unzipped my duffel and dug through my toiletries bag, coming out with a Kiehl’s minty lip balm and held it out to him. “For your lips. They look dry.”
He held out his finger and I squeezed some onto it then screwed the cap back on and tucked it in my pocket while he dabbed the lip balm on his lips. Clearly, he wasn’t used to applying lip balm, but I didn’t say anything.
He raked a hand through his hair and looked over his shoulder. “I thought we’d have the place to ourselves. But my parents came up for the weekend. They’re leaving this evening.”
My eyes darted to the Honda. “Your parents are here?”
“They’re nice. You’ll like them,” he assured me. “They’re looking forward to meeting you.”
“Um…” This whole bullshit conversation and the weird vibe and the fact that his parents were here was awkward. What had he told them about me?
“Let’s go for a walk.”
A walk. Oh God. Nothing good ever came of taking a walk. I looked at my car, tempted to get back into it and drive away. But Deacon took my bag from my shoulder and locked it in his SUV. Then he led me to a trail, a dirt path that cut through the woods behind the house.
“Was this your grandfather’s cabin?” I knew that his grandfather had died two years ago from a heart attack and that he and Deacon had been close.
“Yeah. My parents were thinking of selling it or renting it out, but they can’t bring themselves to do it. They’d like to retire here eventually.”
“Smells like Christmastime.” I took a deep breath of pine and earth and menthol-fresh air. It was cooler up here than it had been in the city, especially in the woods under a canopy of trees, the sunlight filtered through the tree branches.
“This was my favorite place when I was a kid. I used to spend hours in these woods.”
“What did you used to do?” I smiled at the thought of Deacon as a kid. I bet he was adorable with mischief in his eyes and a boyish grin.
“Make forts. Climb trees. Work on my knife skills.”
I laughed.
