Page 14 of Deacon

In the past, it’d been the prelude to a hella lot of savage lovemaking, and now we both clung to it as one of the last vestiges of our fractious yet passionate past.

‘Raff forgot these,’ Ana murmured, extending our son’s goggles.

I jolted at her husky, accented voice, which set me on fire every fuckin’ time she spoke.

‘Grateful,’ I drawled, reaching for the plastic strap. ‘I’ll pack them.’

Her eyes narrowed on my face.

‘How was the Asia tour?’

I shrugged.

‘OK, I guess. Busy, a whirlwind. We sold out all venues.’

‘Ah.’

Ana had never been impressed by the juggernaut of the Six Sinners world.

She’d witnessed our not-so-eponymous start and stood on the sidelines through the unvarnished sweat, blood, and labor we’d put into building a global music brand.

When we were married, I sometimes sensed she resented my career for the time it took away from her and Raff.

Tamping down our dark memories, I focused instead on the gold hoops in her ears and how they caught the afternoon light.

My eyes then trailed to her forearm, where two exquisite diamond circlets glittered, worth more than most 401ks.

I lit that wrist.

Those were my bracelets, the ones I bought for her when she gave birth to Raff and after Estella.

She might have taken off my rings, but she never took the bangles off.

The grim satisfaction I felt each time I spotted them proved she was still mine, that we were still entwined, no matter how much she denied it.

Her eyes softened as she raked them over me.

‘You seem tired. You need to rest.’

‘Nothing Mijas won’t cure, mama,’ I drawled, my heart kicking at the gentle care in her voice.

She seemed concerned for me, which surprised me, since Ana had kept her distance for years.

Her warmth this time threw me off.

Was she trying to patch over the bad blood I’d had with her husband, Massimo, two months ago?

I almost lost my shit after Raff complained that the guy was leaning on him way too hard while my son was under their roof.

We laid down the law real quick about how he handled my boy.

Before ever disciplining him, Massimo had to get Ana’s OK first.

Period.

I was still sour as hell about the whole deal.

Every time I bumped into the man since, I wanted to punch straight through his arrogant smirk.