Chapter 17
After they filled Vanessa in on the appearance of Chris, and watched her flood with angry emotions, the mood for the night was pretty much ruined. They all helped clean up and then Deacon and Kate said their goodbyes to head back to the city.
“That was an intense evening,” Kate said. “I promise that all of our get-togethers are not so eventful.”
“Somehow I find that hard to believe,” he said with a smirk as he took Kate's hand in his. “I'm sure you and your friends are always eventful.”
“Yes,” she laughed, “but in a good way. Not the same as Chris's appearance tonight, I promise.”
“Don't let that asshole ruin the entire night,” he told her kissing her knuckles. “That's all he wanted to do in the first place. I had a great time.”
“Me too,” she said. Being with him and her friends was perfect. Like all of her ducks were getting in a row. With the exception of the sideshow that was Chris the night could not have gone better. “Did you think Greyson's reaction was a little... off?” Kate asked. “He's usually so calm.”
“A little maybe, but considering what he's had going on lately, I'm not surprised that he'd snap.”
“True,” Kate said with a nod. “Vanessa’s worried about him. She thinks he's bottling up a lot. I'm going to talk to him,” she told him.
“Couldn't hurt,” Deacon said. “I'm sure he's angry about a lot of things right now, so I'm sure he's doing the best he can,” he offered a reassuring smile.
“I know,” Kate said. “I just don't want him to think he can't talk to us if he needs too.” She paused. “Speaking of angry, I've never seen Vanessa as mad as she was.” Willa and Hope were always the ones who let their emotions get the best of them. Kate was the cool, collected one and Vanessa... well, she was the sweet one. She was the one who hated confrontation and did her best to cull a situation before it got out of hand. But, not tonight. She let the curse words fly and clenched her fists tightly at her side as she told them all how mad she was about Chris showing up.
“I don't blame her,” Deacon said. “He had no right to be there.”
“They are still married,” Kate reminded him. “But, no he didn't. You know they've been married for four years and he's never once come over for a barbeque. I can't believe him. The guy's got some balls on him. I'll give him that.”
Deacon shook his head and laughed.
“Mediation should be a doozy with him,” she said, rethinking her game plan for Vanessa's appointment next week. She would not let him intimidate her or Vanessa. “What did you say to him anyway?” Kate asked, remember the way that Deacon had shut down the situation. The sexy way he'd swaggered over to Chris with a domineering walk that had her on the edge of her seat. She felt a fire spark deep in her belly as she remembered.
“Just a friendly reminder that if he ever said a negative word about you or Willa again I'd relocate his jaw.” Deacon smirked.
“I didn't know you were a throw-down kind of guy,” Kate said with a chuckle.
“When it comes to my girl and the people she loves I am,” he told her. There was a seriousness in his tone that made Kate's heart beat faster. My girl. She was his, if he wanted her and he did judging by the way he was whipping through traffic to get back to his place.
The moment they were out of the car his hands reached for her. First he kissed her in the kitchen until her lips were tingling. Then he wasted no time removing her clothing once they were in his bedroom. His followed quickly after.
“I've been waiting all day for this,” he said as he lowered her on the bed. As he braced himself on his forearms he stared down her. She wondered what else he could possibly say that would make her feel more desired than she already did. “I didn't know it was possible to want someone as badly as I want you.” He pressed a kiss to her lips.
“I feel the same way,” she said. On more than one occasion since she'd met him, she'd caught herself daydreaming about him. And, it was more than just physical. She just wanted to be near him. She loved the way she felt when she was with him. Like anything was possible. Like nothing mattered but what was happening in that moment. Like maybe she could throw caution to the wind, pack it all up and see the world with him.
Such a nice thought... but completely impractical.
He smiled as he placed his mouth back on hers and kissed her with a fervor that was laced with feelings that Kate was certain were developing into much more than she'd anticipated when she'd first met him.
When she felt the tip of his cock slip through her center, her hips rose up anxious to feel him inside of her.
He slowly pushed his hips forward. Skillfully, he found a pace that had her on the brink of imploding. His fingertips laced through hers as he drew her arms up above her head. Each thrust, bringing her closer and closer to the edge. When she felt her muscles tighten and she moaned into his kiss, she let herself go and think that it was all possible.
* * *
As she lay there, her eyes closed and her breathing even and steady, she wondered if it would always be this way with Deacon. If every time they had sex, he would leave her feeling completely spent and satisfied. He anticipated her every want, every need, every movement like he could read her mind. She'd had other lovers, but none of them had ever been able to strum her body the way he did. None of them had ever left her feeling like she was floating. Like she was moving in place.
Oh my god. Kate's eyes shot open. I'm actually moving.
She sat up quickly. When she saw the open road rushing past the small windows on each side of her she felt her stomach drop.
“Deacon!” she screamed from the bedroom, as she jumped up and pulled on the first thing she could find—his t-shirt from the night before. “Why are we moving?” A bump in the road sent her bouncing down the small hallway like a pinball. Walking while moving was a new experience. This is exactly why she avoided those belted walkways at the airport.
She hurdled the two lawn chairs that were now in the living room while holding onto the countertop. Clearly she didn't have her RV legs.
“Relax,” he said with a chuckle from behind the steering wheel.
By the time she made it to the front of the camper and saw the open highway they were currently motoring down, her blood was boiling. There wasn't a skyscraper in sight. No pedestrians. No hustle and bustle. Nothing but wide open road.
“Why in the hell are we moving?” she asked again, tugging her t-shirt down when they met a car coming toward them. “This is not Chicago, sir. I did not sign up for this.”
“You gave me a Saturday,” he said, motioning for her to sit in the open chair across from him. “I never said what we were doing. I'm sorry that specifications weren't clarified in our verbal agreement, but you never countered with limits, counselor.” He laughed. His witty dig was not helping the ease the tension she felt in her neck and shoulders.
“I have to work on Monday,” she reminded him. “How long have we been driving? How far away from the city are we?” She began asking questions as quickly as they formed in her head. “Where are you taking me?”
“Calm down,” he said, taking her hand with his. “I'll have you home by tomorrow afternoon,” he promised. “We're almost there anyway.” He couldn't help but laugh again at how flustered she was.
She took in a few breaths as she gave him a skeptical smile.
“See,” he said. “There's our exit.”
She saw the green and white exit sign for a town called Zion. She'd never heard of it. For all she knew this was exactly how her Dateline episode began. She envisioned Keith Morrison interviewing Willa and Vanessa. “When was the last time you heard from her?” he'd ask before giving them the all-knowing they-found-her-body-in-a-creek smirk.
“We better be back by sundown tomorrow,” she told him.
“We will be,” he promised. “We're only an hour outside of the city.”
Deacon drove the motorhome a little further before pulling into a driveway marked Campgrounds as she took in the landscape—trees, trees, and more trees. It was the most trees she'd ever seen. A few other campers dotted the sides of the roadways. When Lake Michigan appeared on the horizon, she felt her eyes go wide.
“Well?” he said, pulling the camper to a stop. “What do you think?”
“This is incredible,” she said as she stared out at the water. It looked infinite from where they were parked. Suddenly her objections to the idea of being in the middle of nowhere were fading.
“I thought you might like it,” he said, shutting the engine off. “Clean yourself up, put on some more clothes,” he said, as they stood. He let his fingers trail up her bare legs as he leaned in for a quick kiss. He reached down and picked up a small duffel bag that looked oddly familiar to Kate. “Here's everything you need,” he said as he handed it over. “I had Willa grab a few things from your apartment yesterday while you were at work.”
“Kidnapping and breaking and entering,” Kate said, reaching out for the handles. “Anything else I should know about?”
“It's hardly breaking and entering when your friend has a key.” He leaned in a pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. “And the kidnapping was out of necessity,” he added. “You would have never come willingly.”
“True.”
“Get ready and come help me get everything hooked up.”
“So we're staying here?”
“All night long,” he said in a teasing whisper before skirting past her and out the door.
She hadn't planned on an impromptu camping trip, but with him whispering in her ear with his sexy bed head and a smile that was laced with how much fun a night alone in the woods could be, she rushed to get dressed. Maybe she could rough it for one night with him. Plus, Willa had provided her with clean underwear, clothes, and pair of tennis shoes. She had everything she needed.
By the time she'd pulled on her jeans and a simple green t-shirt, secured her hair in a ponytail at the nape of her neck and brushed her teeth with the toothbrush and paste Willa had tossed into her overnight bag, Deacon was nearly finished with hooking the lines and cables into a small posted box next to the camper.
“What is all of that?” she asked.
“Electricity, water,” he said, pointing out the different lines. “Cable TV if we want it.” He pointed to a plug-in.
“Really?” She was surprised. “It's almost like a real home.”
“Almost.” His smile had faded.
“I didn't mean that it wasn't,” she hurried when she saw his forlorn look. “I just meant I didn't know that there were all the options,” she began to backtrack.
“It's okay,” he told her. “I know this isn't for everybody.” He perked up. “But you know what,” he said with a grin. “I'm going to make you love it,” he promised.
She nodded, graciously accepting the challenge. This may not have been her idea of a home per se, but she was with him and that was all that mattered in the end, right? She was in yesterday's make-up and couldn't deny the excitement that she felt. She was surrounded by nature in the company of a great guy. Maybe she could get used to RV living.
“What time is it anyway?” she asked.
“Almost ten,” he told her. “You mean you haven't checked your phone? No emails? No... work?” he teased.
“I haven't,” she said proudly. “I was too busy getting kidnapped, I guess.” She playfully bumped her shoulder against his as they walked back to the camper door.
He snaked his arm around her waist as he came to a stop. She turned in his arms to face him. Deacon Yates in the mid-morning light was definitely something she could get used too.
“How about brunch and a glass of champagne?” he offered.
“You had me at brunch,” she replied, softly pressing her lips to his. “You sealed the deal with champagne.”
He hugged her tightly for a moment before letting her go. After moving the lawn furniture outside and clearing some space in the kitchen the two of them began preparing their meal. He whipped up a couple of omelets with cheese while she cut up some fresh fruit he had in the fridge—strawberries, a couple of apples, and slices of honey dew melon. She couldn't help but sample as she plated.
“Save some for me,” he told.
“Oh sorry,” she said, taking a strawberry from the plate and holding it up to his mouth. “Did you want a bite?”
Slowly, he bit down on the red berry, the juices coating his lips and making her mouth water in anticipation. She quickly pressed her lips to his, tasting the sweetness that had lingered. She traced her tongue over his lips getting every last drop.
“This food is going to get cold if you keep it up,” he said, tucking his hand into the back pocket of her jeans as she pressed herself against him.
“We can't have that,” she said with a smirk as she gracefully turned out of his hold and picked up the fruit plate. “Are we eating outside?”
“We are.” He let out a frustrated laugh as he placed the omelets on two plates and followed her. They set up the small table between the two chairs with two glasses of champagne and the fruit plate. They each took their omelets on their laps and began to eat.
“You do this every morning?” she asked.
“No,” he said. “This is special occasion.”
“Do you have a lot of special occasions?”
Deacon smiled. “Are you asking if I bring a lot of women into my camper?”
“Maybe...” Kate offered up a slight shrug.
“Would it bother you if I said yes?”
She answered with another shrug. They hadn't had this conversation yet. Kate didn't want to think about Deacon having a lot of girlfriends, but there had to be an explanation why he was still on the market. The thought had crossed her mind that he had a woman in every city he parked his camper in. Maybe she was just his Chicago girl.
“No,” He placed his hand on top of hers. “I don't bring a lot of woman here. Or anywhere for that matter.”
“Okay,” she said, almost ready to let the conversation be over. She had one more question first. “When was your last relationship?”
“A while ago,” he said. “But she wasn't what I was looking for and vice-versa.”
“Oh?” Kate paused, nibbling on her lip for split second. “What are you looking for?”
“I'm looking at her.”
Kate felt a flutter in chest that had to be heart skipping a beat. He was smooth, she'd give him that, but she wasn't one to not follow up. Even if the flattery was on par. “Seriously?”
“Yeah,” he said flatly. “I know that I want to be with someone that challenges me,” he grinned, “which you do.” He paused. “Someone who's smart, funny, beautiful...” He pulled her hand up to his mouth and kissed the back of her knuckles. “Which you are.”
“I can be,” she said with a laugh.
“What about you?” he asked. “Why are you still single?”
They both already knew the answer. Kate was married to her job. She cleared her throat and wished that she could be as romantic with her words as Deacon.
“I guess I just haven't found the right guy,” she finally said. “Things are looking up though,” she added, leaning over the arm of her deck chair. When he met her half way and his lips greeted hers she knew for a fact that if ever there was a guy that she wanted to have a long, meaningful relationship with it was Deacon.
Much like the wine they shared the night before, she enjoyed sitting outside and taking in the surroundings. The birds were chirping—which she rarely heard in the city. The air was fresher. The few people that passed by waved and smiled like they'd been neighbors for years. And, everything was so green. From the grass to the treetops. The icing on the cake was the deep, dark waters of the lake sprawling out before them. “I could maybe get used to this,” she said.
“Really?” he asked. His smile optimistic that she was considering the idea.
“I think so,” she answered. She took a bite of a strawberry and a sip of her champagne. “It's pretty great out here.”
“You should see the ocean. There's a place I like to park in South Carolina that's unbelievable,” he told her. “Have you ever been? To the ocean?”
“Spring break.” She paused. “That was years ago though. I've almost forgot what it was like.” There was a part of Kate that was sad that she hadn't traveled more. It was always on her list of things to do, but had been pushed to the bottom thanks to her job.
“I'll take you back sometime.”
“I'd like that,” she said. Her mind began to question her accepting the invitation. They hadn't been seeing each other very long and she didn't know when she'd actually have time to take a trip.
“I'd love to have a house on the ocean,” he said, continuing the conversation. “Maybe raise a family there.”
“You want kids?” She was surprised. He seemed so content in his camper roaming the country, that the picture of him with children hadn't crossed her mind. Immediately she imagined him on the beach with two little ones chasing him around. Their smiles and laughter as they darted in and out of the surf. Then she pictured him throwing her over his shoulder and heading towards the water as the kids joined in on getting mom wet.
Mom?
“Do you?” he asked.
Did she?
“I don't know,” she answered. The two imaginary children in her head, with hair like hers and eyes like Deacon's, were pushing her towards the yes column. For the first time in her life, she thought she actually felt her ovaries throb, jump starting that biological clock that she'd buried deep inside of her. “I haven't really ever sat down and thought about it.”
“You should,” he said with a smile. “I'd like to have a couple.”
She was seriously starting to wonder if he was some kind of mind reader.
“Maybe,” she answered. She did get a maternity leave if she chose to have children. The mountains of paperwork she'd have to tackle after eight weeks off work made her as nauseous as she imagined morning sickness would. “I'm not completely opposed to the idea, but I'm not sure about living near the ocean. Chicago has always been home.”
“All things are negotiable,” he said with a smile.
She wasn't opposed to the idea of a negotiation one bit which scared the living daylights out of her.