Chapter Five
“You should stay home.”
Mica paused in the process of pulling on her boot to look at her brother. “I’m not getting into this with you again, Matty. We’re in freaking Cotton Creek, the armpit of nowhere, Texas. We’re safe. No one is going to find me here.”
“If they want to find you bad enough, they will.”
“But they don’t.” She resumed her task. “And they won’t. No one would ever think to look here because no one is looking for Mica Gray Horse.”
“You might have let something slip along the way.”
“But I didn’t.” Mica stood, looked around for her phone, and spotted it on the bar that separated the kitchen from the family room. “And you need to stop worrying about it,” she said over her shoulder as she collected her phone. “We’re safe and I’m going to the Honky Tonk, have some barbecue, drink a beer, listen to music and if I’m lucky, be social and talk to people.”
“I’d feel better if you stayed home.”
“Well, I wouldn’t, so unless you’re going with me, I’ll see you later.”
He didn’t even respond to that. He just glared at her.
Mica rolled her eyes, walked over, and planted a kiss on his forehead. “I’ll be fine. See you in the morning.”
With that, she left the house. There were two old pickups parked in the driveway. Bad and Worse, she called them. Since Worse was behind Bad, she climbed into it and after three tries, got it started.
Mica made a mental note to work on Matty about letting her buy new vehicles. He was paranoid about them having new trucks. He thought it drew attention to them. Mica smiled at that notion. Everything about Matty drew attention. Not only was he huge, tall, and as hard as the iron he forged, he was one handsome man. She saw the way women looked at him and knew the fantasies they cooked up about him. The noble savage and all that romantic nonsense.
But he sure did look the part. She wished he’d take advantage of all that silent appeal he possessed and find someone to share his life with. But Matty had his own demons to quell and until that was done, he wouldn’t open up and let anyone in. It was rare he opened up to her.
Mica blamed herself for that. She ran away when she was sixteen and left Matty behind, in the care of their father. Their mother had already escaped back to New York, where she grew up, into the bosom of her snobby family where everyone could pity her for falling for “one of those nasty Indians” and ending up living in “squalor” for six years, trying to take care of two little half-breed kids.
What a joke. Mica’s mother had never been a victim. She was just a spoiled, rich, white woman who fell in heat with a good-looking Native man and made the mistake of marrying him. She’d probably been in a defiant stage or something and at the time, thought the idea was romantic.
Romance dies fast when the money runs out and that’s what happened to her mother. Her parents cut her off and she discovered that her life wasn’t so romantic after all.
From the time Mica was five, she took care of Matty. Their father wasn’t much for caregiving. Hell, he barely stayed sober enough to keep a job and put food on the table. Mica learned early how to beg, borrow, and steal to keep her little brother fed.
But at sixteen, she’d had enough, so when a man in a shiny suit with hair all slicked back, driving a Cadillac, showed up to talk to the tribal council about opening a casino, she saw her chance.
Tony Julliani was the first man she seduced, the one she gave her virginity to. She helped him by telling him secrets about the members of the tribal council and he used that knowledge to work a deal. And in exchange, when Tony left, she was riding in the passenger seat of that Cadillac.
Mica Gray Horse was left in the dust behind that Caddy, and Cipriana was born. Riana, as Tony called her.
Mica shook off thoughts of the past as she spotted the sign for the bar and grille. The parking lot was already half full, which made her glad she hadn’t waited until later to come.
She spotted Cody behind the bar and made her way through the crowd. The bar was packed but she managed to secure a place between a man almost as tall as Matty and a very short older woman dressed in a denim outfit that would rival any blinged-out costume ever worn on a country western stage.
The woman’s hair was a “Dolly Do” of the past, and one that might have worked for the Queen of Country but looked funny as hell on the old munchkin. To keep from gawking at the woman, Mica looked in the other direction. The man beside her turned and did the hand-to-hat thing. “Evening.”
“Hello.”
“You’re new.”
“Yes, I am.”
“JD Weathers.” The man extended his hand.
“Mica Gray Horse.” She took his hand, noticing the gold band on the ring finger of his left hand.
“The new blacksmith?” Disbelief was clear on his handsome face.
“No, that’d be my brother, Mathias. I—“
“Well, you made it.” Cody’s voice interrupted. “Oh, sorry. JD, I see you’ve met Mica. You need to stop by and look at her work. She makes amazing blades.”
“Is that so?” JD looked at Mica. “I’ll do that.”
“That’d be great. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Weathers.”
“JD, please, and the pleasure is mine.” He turned his attention to Cody. “Can you send a bottle of Fireball and shot glasses to our table with our drinks. We’re celebrating.”
“Oh? What’s the occasion?”
“Don’t know. Bryson said he’d tell us tonight. Probably a big contract.”
“Well, whatever it is, congrats and the bottle’s on the house.”
“Thanks, Cody.”
“You bet.”
Mica watched the exchange and when JD turned away, her attention focused on Cody. “That was a nice thing to do.”
Cody shrugged. “The Weathers are good folks. And pretty much family now. His brother Bryson is Hannah’s husband.”
“Oh. Is Bryson as hot as his brother?”
“Oh yeah. And speaking of hot.” Cody jerked her head up toward the entrance.
Mica wasn’t the only woman in the bar appreciating the sight as Deacon Johns walked in with Etta and a handsome dark-haired man. “Who’s the hot guy with Etta?”
“Jasper Jacks. He and Etta are getting married in a month or so. And the man with them is—“
“Deacon Johns.” Mica interrupted.
“Ahh, you’ve met.”
“We have.”
“And?”
“And I think I need a drink.” Mica grinned.
Cody laughed. “What’s your poison?”
“Do you have Macallan?”
“Macallan?” Cody cocked one eyebrow. “I have one bottle of the Sherry Oak 18 years old. Logan Legacy offered it as a hello gift when he came to town to buy the oil field. Never cracked it open because no one seemed inclined to pay upwards of twenty dollars a shot.”
“It’s my favorite. I’ll have that.”
“Ice?”
“And ruin an eighteen-year Macallan?”
“Well, la-dee-dah, girl. Coming up.”
As Cody moved toward the other end of the bar, Mica heard someone speak her name and turned.
Etta smiled at her. “Hi, Mica.”
“Hi.” Mica smiled at Etta, genuinely happy to see her. The man identified by Cody as Etta’s fiancé stood beside her, and behind them was Deacon. “How are you?” Mica made a point to keep her gaze on Etta despite wanting to look at Deacon.
“Great. I’d like for you to meet my fiancé, JJ.” She looked up at JJ. “JJ, this is the woman I was telling you about that makes the amazing blades, Mica Gray Horse.”
“It’s a pleasure.” JJ stuck out his hand.
“JJ—Jasper Jacks?” A memory surfaced. “I remember Matty talking about you. Weren’t you on a mission together? Iran? Iraq?”
“Iraq. Yes.” JJ smiled. “I’ve been meaning to stop by and see Mathias.”
“He’d love that. It’s an honor to meet you and thank you for your service.”
That seemed to come as a surprise to JJ. “Uh, thank you.”
“I think you’ve already met Deacon,” Etta said and Mica saw more than a bit of sly in Etta’s expression.
“Indeed I have.” Mica finally looked at Deacon. “It’s good to see you again, Commander.”
“Deacon will do.”
Mica looked directly into his eyes and it was as if time had come to a “slam on the brakes, boil black from the tires, and skid off the road” halt. She indulged herself in the energy that arced between them. It was hot and powerful and promised things she longed for in the worst way.
“Deacon.”
Something flared in his eyes. She knew it wasn’t her imagination and it sent her libido meter into a rapid climb. She deliberately looked away to break the moment.
“Are you with someone?” Etta asked.
“No. I couldn’t talk Matty into coming.”
“Then join us.” Etta said.
“I don’t want to intrude.”
“It’s not an intrusion. We’re just having a beer and some dinner. And if I’m lucky, I’ll get JJ to dance with me once.”
“If she’s lucky.” JJ smiled at Etta.
“Are you meeting someone?” Mica looked at Deacon.
“No.”
“Well, in that case.” She held his gaze for a moment, then looked at Etta. “I’d love to.”
“Your Macallan,” Cody said from behind the bar.
“Thanks. Can I start a tab?”
“Sure.”
“Great.” Mica looked at the others. “Anyone interesting in joining me? This is a really nice whiskey.”
Etta shook her head. “I’m more of a wine person.”
“And I stick with beer,” JJ added.
“What about you, Deacon?” Mica looked directly at him. “Will you share a glass with me?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“I’ll bring it to your table,” Cody said. “Along with a white wine for Etta and Corona for JJ, right?”
“You got it,” JJ said and then escorted Etta to a table, leaving Mica to tag along behind with Deacon.
Cody delivered their drinks and just as she left with their dinner order, Hannah arrived and called out to Etta. Etta and JJ excused themselves to go speak with Hannah.
Mica angled a bit, sampled her drink, and looked at Deacon who sat beside her. He sipped his whiskey and nodded appreciatively. “Not many people your age appreciate fine whiskey.”
“Not many people any age appreciate a really fine whiskey. This is one of my favorites. It makes me think of autumn.”
“Indeed.” He agreed. “Clove and ginger and wood smoke.”
“Yes, but dried fruit and sweet toffee as well. It’s a beautiful blend and particularly pleasingly with a good cigar.”
He chuckled, and she found the sound to be extremely sexy. “You smoke cigars?”
“Only with eighteen-year-old Macallan.”
He raised his glass in toast and she touched the rim of her glass to his. Etta and JJ returned just then, and the conversation turned to plans for their wedding.
It was clear that Etta and Jasper were crazy about one another from the looks they shared, the way they’d find an excuse to touch one another and the expression on their faces when they watched the other leading the conversation.
Try as she might, Mica couldn’t help but be envious. How wonderful it must be to have that kind of love.
Throughout the meal, she asked questions about Sanctuary, how each of them came to be there, and listened as Etta and Jasper talked about the new facility that was being built. Deacon said little unless asked a direct question. Not that he was unsociable. He just didn’t initiate conversation.
Hannah and her husband got up on stage to announce that they were expecting a baby. The entire bar erupted in cheers and applause and Mica was struck not only by how much people here seemed to care about one another, but the love shining on Hannah’s face when she looked at her husband.
By the time Cody took the stage and announced the house band, Mica felt she knew a lot about Cotton Creek, Sanctuary and the new center where the people sitting with her lived and worked. She didn’t, for a moment, think she knew the people. They had secrets. She could see it in their eyes and could recognize an evasion or someone turning a topic. She was a master at that.
Just like she was a master of asking questions and leading the conversation so that questions weren’t directed at her.
The band started up and Etta pulled Jasper out of his seat and onto the floor. That left her seated beside Deacon. He finished the last sip of his drink and set the glass aside.
“Want another?” she asked.
“No, thanks. You?”
“No, I’m fine.”
She turned her attention to the people on the dance floor. “It’s easy to see that Etta and JJ are crazy about one another. They make a beautiful couple.”
“I agree.”
Mica turned her head to look at him. “So, why is a handsome man like you here alone? Is there as Mrs. Commander waiting for you at home?”
“No.”
“Well, that’s a relief. I’d hate to be flirting with someone’s husband.”
“Are you flirting with me?”
“I’m working my plan.”
“Ah, you have a plan.”
“I do. First I ply you with whiskey and then,” she scooted a tiny bit closer. “I tell you how much I love this music and how long it’s been since a handsome man whirled me around a dance floor.”
“And then?”
“And then I hope you take the hint.” She batted her eyes at him over-dramatically and he chuckled.
“Would you like to dance?”
“Why, Commander Johns, how kind of you. I would. Very much.”
Deacon stood and offered his hand. Mica took it and he pulled her to her feet. Once on the dance floor, he took her into his arms.
Mica had been with her share of men, some she cared for and some she used to get something she wanted. But she’d never in her life felt anything like the sensations that rioted through her when Deacon took her into his arms.
Home. Dear God, how could she perceive it that way? Sure, she had a major case of lust going for the man, but home?
“So, you’re going to really be Commander Johns again? Back on active status?” She said the first thing that came to mind to turn her attention on something besides the feelings that threatened to make her do something foolish.
“Yes.”
“Are you looking forward to it?”
“Yes, I am.”
“What part? Being back in the military? Living a regimented life? Commanding others?”
He almost smiled before he answered. “All of it, I suppose.”
“Why do you think that is? Because you spent so much of your adult life in the service?”
He regarded her a moment before answering. “Probably. It’s a way of life I know and am comfortable with.”
“I can understand that. It’s why I encouraged Matty to come here and buy the blacksmith business. If he’s not going to be a SEAL, he should start with something he knows and is comfortable with. Before he joined the service, he learned from the smith on the reservation and he loved working the forge. Every time he’d go home on leave, he’d spend time with the old smith.”
“And you?” Deacon asked. “Do you love it?”
Mica looked at the dancers on the floor, feigning interest. “It’s more for Matty than me, but I do enjoy metalwork.”
“But?”
She looked at him and felt a momentary stab of discomfort. Was it her imagination or could he see through her ruse? “But nothing. It just takes time to get accustomed to a new place.”
“Where were you before you moved here? And don’t say the reservation.”
“Why not?”
“Because that would be a lie.”
“Oh? And you know that how?”
“From the way you speak and conduct yourself. From your appreciation of fine whiskey. You’re trying very hard to fit in here, to be the girl from the reservation, but you’re not that at all. You may have started there, but I’d bet a month’s pay that you didn’t stay.”
Damn. He’s good. Mica had a decision to make and no time to ponder, so she went on instinct and her gut. “You’re right. I didn’t. I left as soon as I could, got an education, a job, and tried to pretend I hadn’t grown up there.”
“Then why come here?”
“For Matty.”
“That’s one.”
“One what?”
“Lie.”
Mica almost denied it, but she couldn’t allow herself to get into an argument with him. Particularly in a public place. Nor could she face the look on his face, that expression that told her he knew she was keeping secrets. So, she took the coward’s way out. “Excuse me.” She tore away from him and hurried outside.
She had just reached her truck when he caught up with her, took her arm, and stopped her. “Don’t.” She looked at his hand on her arm and then up at him.
“Why?”
“Truth?”
“Always.”
“Because you get to me.” She shook free of his grasp and challenged him with her eyes. “And yes, I get that you already know that, but you asked for truth so here it is. My past is mine and not of consequence or interest to anyone other than me. As are my reasons for being here.
“I’m not the only one with secrets. I just spent the evening with three people who carry enough secrets to fill a book. But they’re your secrets and I respect that. If the day ever comes when you want to share, I’d be honored to listen, but until when or if that day comes, I’ll respect your privacy and expect the same from you.
“Finally, I didn’t lie. I did come here for Matty. Okay, for me as well, but I could have gone to a number of places. Places where, as you so astutely pointed out, I would blend in. But Matty couldn’t. Something broke inside him during a mission. He saw children die and it wounded something vital inside him. It damaged his purity.
“I know that probably sounds silly to a veteran like you, someone who’s seen all the horrible things people do to one another in war, but Matty isn’t like you. Yes, he’s this giant of a man, all brawn and muscle and probably one of the best ever at kicking down doors and maybe even instilling terror in his enemies. But inside he’s the most gentle person you can imagine.
“He’s good. Genuinely good, through and through. He has a purity of spirit that’s rare and beautiful and something happened to damage that, and I thought maybe here he could find it again. And maybe something was leading me here because Etta is here and you’re here and you’re two people he honestly trusts.
“So, call me what you want, and think what you want, but don’t ever for one instant presume to know how I feel about—”
Nothing could have prepared her for the shock when he interrupted her diatribe by reaching out to take hold of her. He put his hand behind her neck, reeled her in, and silenced her with a kiss. For the first time in her life, she literally trembled. Nothing in her life had ever prepared her for the emotions that kiss evoked.
This was a kiss unlike anything she’d experienced. Deacon took without force. He was in charge. There was no mistake about it. Yet he gave as equally as he took and what he gave had her temperature rising in under two seconds. His free arm circled her body and hitched her up snug against him and her temperature jumped a few more notches.
He claimed and promised with the kiss, claimed her as his and promised pleasures she was eager to know. Mica knew beyond all doubt that he was dominant in the true sense of the word. This wasn’t a man who would the play at a BDSM lifestyle, but a man who didn’t know how to be anything other than alpha, to command and dominate. For the first time in her life, she wondered how it would feel to submit to such a man.
So, she surrendered to the kiss and to him, but not with passivity. That simply wasn’t in her nature. Her hands moved to his sides, fingers digging in, clutching tightly as she pressed against him.
Deacon waltzed her backward into the door of her truck and rodeoed her up against it, still locked in the kiss. Mica wound her legs around his waist and his hands moved beneath her ass, supporting and squeezing. She didn’t even bother to try to stifle the moan that rose up her throat. Had he asked, she’d have stripped naked right there for him.
“Deacon?”
That sound did it. Etta’s voice ended the kiss. Deacon released her and once her feet were on the ground, he answered with his eyes still on Mica. “Yeah?”
“We’re headed out. You want a ride?”
“I do.”
“Okay, meet you at the car.”
“Yep.”
Mica’s gaze was prisoner to his and remained so when Etta walked away. She saw his expression change and knew before he spoke, she wasn’t going to like what he had to say.
“I’m sorry. That was inappropriate.”
“Inappropriate?” That was an odd choice of words, at least to her. “Why?”
“You’re too young.”
That shocked her speechless. Of all the excuses in the world, he was going to play the age card? What kind of man did that? Men didn’t turn down women because of their age. In fact, older men were always eager to get their hands on a younger woman.
“I wasn’t too young a minute ago.”
“Yes, you were. I just forgot myself.”
“And what?”
“And indulged in fantasy.”
Mica didn’t know what to make of that. “And you don’t like fantasy?”
“Oh yes, I do. But sadly, fantasy is always just that—something that isn’t real. Good night, Mica. Drive safely.”
Mica watched him walk away and stood there for a long time after that. What just happened? She knew she wasn’t alone in that kiss. He wanted her. So what if he was older? Age didn’t matter. At least to her.
But apparently it did to him. Why? Her natural determination returned, and she opened her truck door to get in. Fantasy, he said. Fine, if he saw her as a fantasy, then she would give him fantasy enough to make his dick explode from wanting her.
Because, as her father was fond of saying about her, come hell or high, water she was always determined to get what she wanted.
And she wanted Deacon Johns.