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Deacon Johns (Heartbreakers & Heroes Book 4) by Ciana Stone (4)


Chapter Four

 

The moment the meeting with Grady, Mason, and the engineer ended, Deacon excused himself and started the walk back to the ranch. Barring unforeseen problems and bad weather, the training center was on schedule to be completed in three months.

He knew it didn’t show, but he was excited about getting the center up and running. The truth was, he missed military life. Hell, that wasn’t the whole truth. He missed the action. But Deacon was smart enough to know that the action was better left to younger men. He might be fit, but his days in the field were a thing of the past.

A fact that sometimes annoyed the bloody hell out of him. At least with the new posting, he’d be back into a real training regimen because he didn’t ask of his men anything he wasn’t willing to do himself.

He hoped he wasn’t about to bite off more than he could chew with that attitude and prayed he’d be able to keep up. Damn, if aging wasn’t a pain in his ass.

Like the deep-seated irritation it gave him every time he thought about Mica Gray Horse. He didn’t know how old she was, but feared he was old enough to be her father, and a man shouldn’t be lusting after a woman young enough to be his child.

He knew that, lived by it. So, why couldn’t he get her out of his head? It’d been days since they met, and he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. Even now, he could picture her in his mind. That long flow of hair the color of midnight, braided into a shining plait, pulled back to bare a face that belonged in a dream.

Elegant arched brows crowned eyes that could pierce the strongest man’s defenses, laying waste to his shields and obliterating all resistance. He’d seen that pale gray color change. When they shook hands and she looked up at him. The color had deepened like a storm gathering strength.

The first time she spoke his name, he had a mental flash. Call it a daydream or maybe a fantasy. Whatever label he assigned wasn’t important. The content was what counted. That fleeting glimpse of her looking up at him, wanting clear on her face and in her voice as she spoke his name.

He was honestly shocked at the power that memory held. Maybe he could have written it off as the imaginings of a middle-aged man if it hadn’t been for the one small detail. He knew she was interested. Age hadn’t robbed him of the ability to discern when a woman was attracted to him and his empathic ability told him quite clearly that she was interested. God knew it was one huge boon to his ego. Still, she was too young.

Wouldn’t you know? There’d been plenty of ships in the storm, so to speak. Deacon had never been celibate, but he also was extremely discreet. Women came and went. He enjoyed every one he was with, but was honest enough to admit that the couplings were more of need than attraction.

Attraction came in more than one form. There was minimal attraction, the kind that would last through the night, but no longer. Next came mild, which might endure a week. He’d had more than his share of those.

Then there was the monumental, earth-shattering attraction. Twice in his life he’d had that moment. A shared look that left him with certainty that would withstand the ages. That assurance that this was what his heart sought and this was the woman he’d waited for.

The first time, he’d been eighteen, headed off to the Citadel. Her name was Iris and he’d married her the day after he graduated. They’d shared ten years. Years he was gone more than he was home. He’d lost touch with her and never really gotten to know his daughter, Rose. Like a fool, he hadn’t even realized he was standing apart from the woman who’d captured his heart, and that when he was home he wasn’t really there.

Deacon knew the fault was his when he found out she was seeing someone else. He couldn’t even find it in himself to be angry that she wanted out of the marriage. It hurt that his daughter wanted nothing to do with him, but even that was understandable.

He hadn’t earned their love.

Since the day his wife walked out with their daughter, he’d been alone. Except for Etta. She came along and saved him by needing him. Deacon knew she would be whatever he wanted, so he made her his family, the family he could finally care for, protect, and cherish.

Then three days ago, he saw Mica and a chime sounded deep inside him and he knew. It had happened again. This was what his heart sought, and this was the woman he’d waited for.

And damn it all, he couldn’t have her.

Just his luck.

Now the question was, how the hell did he make himself stop thinking about her? “Whoa.” Etta’s voice had him jerking to attention. She was walking toward him, and he had no doubt that she was aware he was in turmoil.

“What’s eating at you?” Her face registered concern.

“Normal things.” He kept walking and she fell in step beside him.

“Wow.” Etta stopped, and two steps later, so did he.

“What?” He looked over his shoulder at her.

“I think that’s the first time you’ve ever lied to me.”

Busted, his conscience crowed. Deacon resumed walking and she quickly caught up with him. “It must be something that you felt you had to lie.”

“I didn’t lie. It is a normal thing.”

“What kind of normal thing.”

“The kind that I’m not interested in discussing.”

“Fine.” Etta turned and headed away from him. For a few moments, he just watched. Then he hurried after her.

“Hold up.” He took hold of her arm and stopped her.

“No, it’s fine.” She pulled free of his grasp. “You don’t want to talk about it and you certainly deserve your privacy, so I’ll leave you to it. I have things to do so I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a good evening, Deac.”

She’d just turned away when the words blurted out of his mouth. “I went to see Mathias.”

He could tell from the expression on her face when she looked at him that his statement concerned her. “And?”

“He wasn’t there.”

Etta put one hand on her hip. “Okay, I’m just plain confused. If he wasn’t there, then why are you upset?”

“Have you met his sister?”

“Mica? Yes.”

“Well, there you go.”

With that, he was the one to turn away and resume the walk home. He didn’t slow his pace or look back; he just made the walk to the house, climbed the steps, crossed the porch, and opened the door.

Deacon knew she was following. After toeing off his boots and hanging up his hat, he went into the kitchen, took two beers from the refrigerator, opened both, and placed them on the table. Etta sat and picked up one of the beers. One drink and she placed it back down.

“What did you mean by that?”

Deacon sat, took a long draught from his beer, and then leaned his chair back on two legs and regarded her. “She’s a talented metalworker.”

“I know. Amazingly talented. So is Mathias. And?”

“Hell.” Deacon let his chair bang down onto all four legs. “Fine. The truth is, she got to me.”

“Got to you? As in, you’re attracted to her?”

“Yes.”

“So?”

“So?” He couldn’t believe she was so indifferent. “She’s young enough to be my daughter.”

“Bull. Mathias is thirty-seven and she called him her baby brother so she’s at least thirty-nine and that makes her no more than thirteen years younger than you. Which means you are not old enough to be her father.”

“Thirteen years is too much of an age gap.”

“Bull.”

“It is. In my book it is, Etta.”

“Fine, then why are you barking at me? If you don’t want to have anything to do with her, then don’t.”

“I won’t.”

“But you want to.”

Had it been anyone else, Deacon would have delivered a scathing comeback. But it wasn’t anyone else. It was Etta and she knew him. “God help me, I do.”

“And what about her?”

“What about her?”

“Come on. You know when a woman is into you. Was the attraction reciprocal?”

“Yes.”

“Well, there you go.”

“Smart-ass.”

Etta smiled, picked up her beer, and stood. “Look, you’ll do what you think is right and goodness knows it’s one of the things I love about you, but would you do me a favor?”

“What?”

“For once, stop thinking about what’s best for people around you, what’s the right or honorable or smart thing to do, and just go with your feelings? If you’re interested, then be interested and see what develops. If it’s something that’s meant to be more, it will be and if it’s not, it won’t.”

“Go with the flow?”

“Exactly.”

“That’s not my strong suit.”

“I know, but just this once consider giving it a try. You never know, Deac. She just might be the one.”

“I don’t know that there is another one for me.”

“But I believe there is, so indulge me.”

“Oh, so I should pursue this woman to make you happy?”

Etta walked around the table, leaned down, and kissed Deacon on the cheek. “You should think about what makes you happy. For you and yes, for me, because you’re my family and I want you to be happy.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Good. Hey, we’re headed into town tomorrow for a night at the Honky Tonk. Riley Morgan’s band is playing. Charli’s on duty, but Grady said he’d join, so come with us.”

“Maybe. I’ll let you know.”

“Okay. Have a good night.”

“You, too.”

Deacon watched Etta leave, stilling holding her beer. He polished off what was left of his and walked outside. He’d always made it a policy not to get involved with women who were a lot younger. He might have a passing flirtation with someone younger, maybe even a liaison, but nothing of consequence. It was all just for a good time, or for sex.

What made Mica Gray Horse any different? She could be nothing more than another in a long line of one-night stands.

No. Even as the thought passed through his mind, he dismissed it. She wasn’t just a one-night stand. She was the woman who could be the one and the bare-bones truth was, that scared the living daylights out of him.

He was adept at many things, good at some, great at others, but knowing how to love a woman the way she deserved was something apparently beyond his ken. And if he was being completely honest, he’d have to admit that something inside him was a little afraid that she might not just be the one he wanted, but that she could be the one who had the power to do what no other woman had ever done.

Break his heart.