I watched with a smile as the yellow ball fell into the corner pocket with a satisfying clunk.

Deacon let out an impressed whistle as I looked up at him with a cocky grin. “Wow. So you have gotten better.”

It wasn’t that so much as sheer luck, but I wasn’t about to admit that to him. I lined up my next shot and missed by a mile.

“Or not,” he stated with a deep chuckle. He took his turn, sinking one striped ball before speaking again as he lined up his next shot. “So, how’s the world of fashion?”

I pulled in a breath as I leaned against the side of the pool table, sipping at the second vodka tonic Deacon had poured me. “It’s… good.”

He looked up after pocketing his second shot, lifting a skeptical brow. “Well don’t sound too excited about it,” he teased playfully.

Shame trickled down my spine. The very same shame I felt every time I thought about my career, and how I should’ve been more thankful for what I had.

“No, it’s great,” I lied. “Really. It’s great.”

Resting the butt of the pool cue on the ground, he studied me closely, like I was a fascinating specimen under a microscope. “I know things have been rough between us the past….”

“Several years?” I finished for him.

“Yeah.” He grinned. “Several years. But babe, you were never able to lie to me. That hasn’t changed.”

My lips puckered as I expelled a huge puff of air. I dragged a finger through the condensation on the drink glass I’d rested on the table ledge. “I have no business complaining,” I finally admitted. “I have a great job that most women would kill for, a great pension, and excellent benefits, and I get to work closely with my dad. I mean, what right do I have to be unhappy?”

The cue let out a muffled clang as he dropped it onto the green felt tabletop. “You have every right if it doesn’t make you happy. Fuck all that other shit. Just because it’s someone else’s dream job doesn’t mean it has to be yours.”

I rested my pool cue beside his and sucked back the remaining dregs of my drink. “I should be happy there. I know I should. It’s just….”

“Just what?” he asked when I took too long to complete my thought.

“Just not what I thought I’d be doing,” I answered with a shrug. “Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy what I do. I appreciate all the chances my job gave me, but I guess I just always figured that I’d have something similar to what my parents have when I got older. My mom started working at Prentice Fashion after she married my dad. And not because she wanted to work in the fashion industry, but because she wanted to be close to him as much as possible. Dad wanted that too.” I gave Deacon a small, slightly embarrassed smile as I admitted, “Maybe it sounds naïve, but I wanted that for myself, you know? I wanted to marry a guy I loved so much that I’d be working alongside him in whatever he did simply because I’d miss him too much when he was gone.”

His expression grew soft as he murmured, “You always were a romantic.”

“Yeah, I guess so. I just never really cared about building a career. I always dreamed of building a family.”

The atmosphere had grown as heavy as the conversation. I needed to do something to change that, so I joked, “But don’t tell Lola, Soph, or Daphne I said any of that. They’d strip me of my girl card and kick me out of the club.”

When he didn’t laugh, I tried something else, grasping at straws to move the conversation in a different direction.

“I kind of envy you, you know? You paved your own way, started this bar. I know it was expected for you to join Bandwidth with Grayson.”

“That was never going to happen,” he said in a growly, intense voice.

“Because it wasn’t what you wanted?” I inquired, cocking my head to the side, giving him my full attention.

He looked from me to the table and picked up his pool cue. I followed suit when it became obvious that he was about to take another shot. “Something like that,” he muttered as he sank another ball, officially taking the lead.

There was no missing the hostility in his words, but I couldn’t understand it. Sure, I’d witnessed tension between him and his dad growing up, and he and Grayson had a competitive streak that never made any sense to me, but what I always saw most was a loving, supportive family unit.

I’d been a bit jealous of Deacon when I was a kid because he had a brother. As an only child, I’d always wished for a sibling, that built-in best friend I’d have all my life. I never got why those two were constantly trying to one-up each other.

“Well, no matter what, I know your folks are proud of you.”

Deacon let out a noise between a scoff and a snort before sucking back a swig of beer from the bottle he’d brought over to the table. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”

I lost interest in the game completely, too disturbed by the sudden frosty change in Deacon’s demeanor. “What are you talking about? Of course they are. Deac, this place is amazing. Do you even know the statistics for new restaurants or bars closing within the first two years? I researched it when you opened The Black Sheep. I’ll admit, I was a little worried for you at first, but when I saw this place? I instantly fell in love with what you created. You have no idea how amazing it is that you not only succeeded with this place but thrived. You’re crazy if you think they aren’t proud. They are. I know I am.”

I’d been so lost in my tangent that I hadn’t registered the massive shift in the atmosphere, at least not right away. Now that I was no longer talking, I found it difficult to breathe, the air so thick with whatever emotion was rolling off Deacon in waves.

His voice grew low and raspy. “You researched statistics?”

“Well… yeah. I know you and I weren’t exactly close at the time, but all I ever wanted was for you to be happy, and The Black Sheep made you happy.”

“You worried about me?” he asked, even lower and raspier.

“Of course I did, Deacon. Just because we weren’t in each other’s lives for a long time didn’t mean I didn’t still care about you. I missed you like crazy. I never stopped caring about you.”

He closed his eyes, as if in pain. “Christ, sweetheart. You really are proud of me,” he grunted before looking at me once more. I had no idea what was going on or why things felt like they were suddenly shifting. All I knew was that I meant every single word I’d said.

“Are you kidding?” I whispered. “I love this place. When you shut me out last year, I only barely missed The Black Sheep as much as I missed you. I’m over the freaking moon for you that you get to live your dream.”

His pool cue clattered against the table as he tossed it down, sending the balls scattering along the felt as he rounded the pool table in my direction. My heart stuttered and my breathing escalated at the look in his eyes, like he was a caged animal just set free.

“Deacon, what—”

My cue crashed to the ground where he threw it. His fingers tangled in my hair and, using his hold on my head, he tipped it to the side for better access before his lips slammed against mine in a demanding, all-consuming kiss.

I gasped in surprise and he used the sudden parting of my lips to his advantage, thrusting his tongue into my mouth and tangling it with my own. I was instantly lost to the decadence of the kiss, to the taste of Deacon. It was so much better than I remembered our last and only kiss. He tasted like hops and mint. He was all man, and I melted into his hold, needing his support to stay upright.

A muffled moan crawled up my throat when his teeth clamped down on my bottom lip. My arms twisted around his neck to hold on for dear life as my tongue quickly got in the game, meeting his with every stroke.

I whimpered greedily with loss when his mouth broke from mine, but the noise quickly shifted into one of desire as Deacon’s lips trailed along my jaw and down my neck. Never in my life had my skin been so sensitive, so responsive to a man’s touch. I never wanted it to end. I wanted to drown in him.

“Deacon,” I breathed, drawing his lips back to mine. I had no clue how long the kiss lasted. All I knew was that I’d die if he stopped.

“You’re unsure of this, baby, you need to stop me now, because once we start there’s no going back.”

“Oh God,” I groaned, throwing my head back as Deacon’s fingers found my rock-hard nipple beneath my top and began toying with it. “Don’t stop. Please, God, don’t stop.”

That was all it took for him to snap completely. His hands on my ass, I was lifted off the floor and deposited on the edge of the pool table faster than I could suck in my next breath. Even through the denim of his jeans and mine, I could feel how hard he was, how big he was, and I wanted that. God, I wanted that.

Deacon’s mouth was fused to mine as he rocked his hips against me, his thick erection rubbing against my most sensitive parts, causing shivers to rack my body.

“Need you,” I mumbled into his mouth as I bit, and nipped, and licked, and kissed. “Deacon, please. I need you.”

The man was a miracle worker. He somehow managed to get me out of my jeans and panties without breaking the kiss.

His words poured into my mouth as he asked, “You on the pill?” I was so delirious with desire that I barely registered the sound of his zipper coming down, or what that meant. My brain was focused on one singular goal: getting him inside me.

I couldn’t fucking wait.

“Yes, yes. I’m covered. Please, now.”

Then he was inside me.