CHAPTER FOUR
Deacon showered when he arrived home, cursing the lack of sleep that caused him to miss his own workout that morning. He dressed in black slacks and a button up blue shirt, adding a tie that complimented both at the end. Slipping his feet into some Docs and tying them, Deacon took a look in the mirror. Hopefully, she’d like it. He headed out in the Range Rover to pick her up, pulling up to a cute little cottage in an older neighborhood. Rowan clearly loved gardening, judging from the flowers and trees he passed on the way to the small wrap around porch that boasted more plants.
Deacon knocked softly on the door, taking in the stained glass in different colors that made up a circular pattern in the white wood as he waited. The door opened slowly after he heard a chain and lock disengaged and Rowan peered out curiously. “Hello.”
“Evening, Rowan. This is a nice place you have.” Deacon told her, watching her deep pink lips curve into a beautiful smile. They matched the dark shadow that brought out her eyes just enough to make them smolder.
“Thanks. I inherited it from my Grams.” Rowan told him, opening the door wider so that he could come in. The house was painted in vibrant colors with artwork hanging on the walls of a large oblong living room that boasted a large fireplace with what looked like the original brick. It was very feminine and warm and he looked at the talent of the paintings with a curious gaze.
“These are yours.” He stated more than asked, seeing her in the dashes of dark and light color over the canvas.
“They are. Hence the teaching art, since I don’t want to depend entirely on sales.” Rowan admitted softly as he looked over at her.
“They’re beautiful. You’re beautiful.” Tonight she was dressed in a long gray dress that hung loose on her body with a plum shawl pulled over her shoulders, her hair loose around her shoulders. “You’re very talented.”
“Thank you.” He loved that her skin was light enough to see the pink that flushed her cheeks. They had already agreed on a nearby Cajun place for dinner and they made their way out to his car, where he opened the door for her and made sure that she was safely inside before walking to his side. There was a tangy scent of citrus with a hint of pear on her skin, making him hungry for more than dinner as he opened his door. Deacon started the car and pulled away from her house, trying not to breathe her in too hard as he drove to Bayou. He was pleased to see that in her heels, Rowan was close to his height when he opened her door again to let her out. He led her inside with the hand on the small of her back, letting the hostess know that he had a reservation. They were seated along the back wall at a cozy table as Rowan smiled at him and sipped the water that was immediately set down before them.
Rowan selected lemonade to drink, making Deacon second guess his choice of beer and switch to iced tea quickly as she gave him a long look. “I just don’t drink.” She explained, her face falling for a moment as he nodded.
“I’m driving you tonight so I shouldn’t either.” They ordered the mussels and fried green tomatoes for appetizers before Rowan explained that her grandmother was originally from Louisiana as was her mother. She’d cooked this kind of food a lot, teaching Rowan and her sister Lily the recipes once she’d moved to help her daughter once Rowan’s father had died from cancer when she was ten. Her love for her Gram was shimmering in her eyes as she spoke, mixed with sadness as she wiped at her eye slowly.
“This is great,” Deacon told her as he tried a mussel, pitching up on the strong hints of garlic. She chose a slice of tomato, taking a small bite with her fork as she smiled at him. For dinner, he chose the NY strip and she the seafood creole as he sipped his tea slowly. They shared bites of their meals across the table, both moaning with the taste as he felt himself harden under the table against all of his willpower. This woman was getting under her skin, despite the hint of mystery that surrounded her.
They left after a couple of hours of light conversation and great food, standing on the sidewalk for a moment as she breathed in the cool air. He watched her lean her head back and smile, wanting nothing more than to pull her into his arms. Rowan looked up at him, her eyes wide as their eyes locked and held. “Would you like to take a walk with me?” Deacon indicated the sidewalk that boasted coffee shops and other places to eat, with a lot of people wandering around to shop before the stores closed.
“Sure.” He knew now that her accent was from the time they’d lived in Louisiana before her father had gotten a transfer with the Army to Washington D.C.
They turned to the right and he reached for her hand automatically as their feet started to move together. They browsed some stores before it got to be too late and had some coffee before she reluctantly told him that she had an early class the following day.
Deacon drove her home, walking her to her door where she gazed up into his eyes with a hint of fear. “I had a great time.”
“I did as well.” He replied, stroking a piece of her hair back slowly. “Can I see you again?”
“I’d like that.” Rowan replied, moving up as she lifted her hands to his shoulders before she pressed her lips to his. Deacon groaned at the hot feel of her parted lips and the spices from their dinner that made his own mouth tingle all over again. She pulled back and joined her hands behind his neck. “There’s a part of me that knows I have no business doing this with you but I can’t help it.” She kissed him again, welcoming his tongue into her mouth as she met it with her own.
After several kisses and few words, Deacon forced himself to step back. He couldn’t move this fast with her, though he wasn’t sure exactly why. He reminded himself that he wasn’t that guy to take advantage of her on their first date and that she wasn’t anything like the girls he’d had casual flings with over the years. “I’ll call you tomorrow, Rowan.”
She nodded and pushed her door open, looking back at him again with longing in her eyes before she closed the door. He walked out to the car, fighting the urge to turn around and knock on the door again as he got inside and started the engine. Deacon drove home, feeling a desire that had been dormant for a long time as well as the strong urge to protect her from something that he couldn’t pinpoint. He reminded himself that it was a protective feeling and not one that wanted to repair her, as James had suggested earlier. She didn’t need to be fixed though there were things that were troubling her. She’d pulled through something and retained a part of who she was, something that encompassed her whole living room when he was there.
It was addictive and he knew that he wanted more, sleeping restlessly again as he tossed and turned.
He didn’t ignore the alarm this time and got up to work out and run before heading to the office for the day. Deacon needed the release.