Page 149 of Deacon

I swallowed, crossing my arms to hide the tremor in my hands.

‘Deacon, I’d like to keep things cordial,’ I offered.

‘Cordial?’ Deacon murmured, his rasp sending tendrils of dread through me. ‘Cordial with the man who just threatened to call social services and take our son away? We lost one child, we fuckin’ can’t lose another.’

The gravity of his words hit hard, and I gasped.

He shook his head at me.

‘The fucker knows how much pain that would’ve caused us, and he still threw it in our faces. Come on, Ana!’

I took a breath, conceding he had a point.

‘OK,’ I whispered. ‘No contact. I promise.’

Deacon moved closer and held my gaze.

‘If he ever comes our way again, after the bullshit he’s just spun, I will lose my shit at him,’ he warned, his voice dropping into a lethal register. ‘He just proved how low he can go, he’s a freakin’ danger to us parenting our son. You can never let him near Raff or us. Hear?’

I nodded, accepting the hard line he’d drawn.

Shaking his head, he surged from my side, his chest rippling.

He grabbed a pair of shorts, pulled them on, and stepped out onto the balcony, sliding the glass door shut behind him.

My heart raced with worry as I rose and grabbed a robe to cover up.

I slid the casement door open and eased into the crisp Chicago night air.

I found him standing by the balustrade, staring out into the view, rubbing the back of his head, eyes on the horizon.

Concern for him crept in, a cold knot tightening in my stomach.

Was my baggage too heavy for Deacon to handle?

I walked over, slid my arms around him from behind, and rested my head against his back.

Stroking his chest, I kissed his skin and ran my touch over him to reassure him.

‘De-stress, handsome,’ I whispered. ‘He’s not worth it.’

This was our age-old ritual, designed to help him relax.

Swinging his head from side to side like a warrior coming down from the threat of battle, he let out a long, ragged breath.

It shuddered through his torso as his hands wrapped around my wrist.

He swiveled to face me and gazed down, the vulnerability in his eyes making my heart ache with fierce, protective devotion.

I stood on my tiptoes and pressed soft, lingering kisses to the edges of his eyes.

‘Come back inside,’ I whispered into his warm skin. ‘He doesn’t mean anything to me, not anymore. You know that.’

He stared at me for a long time, his tongue in his cheek, his expression guarded.

Finally, the tight set of his jaw softened as he allowed me to take his hand and lead him back into bed.

We slid beneath the sheets, the quiet of the room settling around us.