“What’s done is done, and I’m hoping there’s something positive we can take from it. What are your thoughts on the meeting?”
“It was…interesting.” Deacon’s keys fell out of his pocket, so he tossed them into the air.
“What did Lee say?”
“Mostly stuff about HOOK being the enemy.” He threw his keys higher and caught them with one hand. He tossed them a third time . . . and they landed in Paul’s palm.
“You stayed for an entire meeting and that’s all you got from it?”
Deacon swiped for his keys, but Paul moved them out of his reach. “I’m giving you the highlights.”
“What are his plans?”
“To continue growing until Leadership takes action. May I have my keys back, please?”
Paul considered the keys in his hand. “What kind of action?”
“To be honest, it seems any action at all would appease them.” Deacon rubbed his aching temples and tried to remember what had been said. It felt like forever ago. “He also mentioned something about going for HOOK’s Virginia office.”
Paul dropped the keys onto his desk. “How many people saw you?”
He wasn’t invisible. “Everyone saw me.” Deacon rose from the sofa and snagged his keys.
Paul tapped him on the shoulder before he reached the door. “Do you want to call Peter, or should I?”
“You do it.” Deacon had a hangover to nurse.
“And here I thought you’d given up stalking me.” Vivienne hadn’t seen Deacon since the day after Halloween, and his meaningless comment about kissing her had kept her awake more nights than she cared to admit.
“I didn’t give up,” he said, sweeping past her into the living room. “Someone told me to fly away.”
Crap. She had hoped he’d forgotten about that. “Sorry. I was…annoyed.” She refused to say “jealous” because she had no right to be jealous. Then again, she didn’t have the right to be annoyed either.
With her muscles aching from self-defence, she hobbled over to where Deacon leaned on the arm of the couch. Her legs felt like jelly, and her arms felt like lead, and her shoulders were wound so tight, even shrugging was excruciating.
Deacon’s lips flattened, taking away some of their fullness. “What did I do that annoyed you?”
“You were flirting and whispering with that angel.” It sounded pathetic when she said it aloud. Petty and pathetic.
His brows came together, and he rubbed the back of his neck. Then he laughed and gave her a silly grin. “Do you want to know what I said to her?”
“I don’t care. It doesn’t matter.”
He crossed his arms and waited.
“Fine,” she groaned. “You can tell me if it’ll make you feel better.”
“I told her that if she didn’t stop touching me, my little witch was going to put a curse on her.”
His little witch?
He had told the angel to go away? Now that she thought about it, after he had whispered to the girl, she had dropped her hand and stepped away from him.
“I’m an idiot.” She hid her horror behind her hands.
“It’s a pity you didn’t stay out. You missed a good night.” He chuckled as he went into the kitchen. “Ethan fell off a roof, and Max passed out in my back garden wearing Nicola’s catsuit.” Deacon meandered around her kitchen, opening and closing the cabinets and drawers, peering into the fridge.
Something else about that night bugged her. “Tell me about the ghost.”
“I don’t believe in ghosts.” A small smile played on his lips. “May I have a bottle of water?”
“You can if you answer my question.”
The seal on the lid cracked when he twisted it open. He kept his eyes on hers as he raised it to his lips and took a drink. “You didn’t ask me a question.”
“Was it you?”
“Was what me?”
“The ghost.”
“Why does it matter?” He glanced down the dark hallway. “Where’s Emily?”
“Out to eat with her mom and dad. Stop changing the subject.”
He walked up to her and whispered, “Boo.” Endless secrets sparkled in his green eyes.
So it was him. The disappearing and reappearing on Halloween made sense now.
“Why are you here?” She rolled her neck, hoping the muscles stretched out before her run later. “Don’t you have anyone else to haunt?”
“Why would I haunt someone else when I can haunt you?” Deacon dropped onto the couch and draped his arm across the back cushion, giving her a pointed look. “Are you still avoiding trouble?”
She should be avoiding him. But after hearing what had really happened on Halloween, she wanted to jump on top of him and kiss him senseless. Should she point out that she wasn’t wearing green face paint anymore? “I let you in, didn’t I?”
“True. How’s self-defence?”
They hadn’t seen each other in weeks and he wanted to talk about classes? Great. “My entire body aches so…good?”
“Lucky for you, I know how to cure those aches.”
So they were back to this again. “I’m sure you do,” she snorted.
“You don’t believe me?” Deacon slid onto the floor and patted the space between his knees. “Come here and I’ll show you.”
“No. What? Why?”
He rolled his eyes. “I just told you I could help.”
With her heart in her throat, she sank down in front of him, holding her breath as he brushed her hair to the side. And then his hands were on her shoulders, moving in slow circles with the right pressure in the right spots, and she let out an involuntary moan because it felt sooo good.
“This would be a lot easier,” he said against her neck, sending shivers down her spine, “if you took off your top.”
“What?” she squeaked.
He tugged the corner of her sweatshirt. “Your top.”
“Oh…um…right. Yeah.”
She thought she heard him chuckle but was too mortified to turn around. Instead, she pulled her sweatshirt over her head, tossed it onto the couch, and adjusted the T-shirt she had on underneath.
Hugging her legs to her chest, she rested her chin on her knees. “You’re really good at that.”
“I’ve been told I’m really good at a lot of things.”
Deacon could write a book on double entendres. “Can you not do that?”
“Not do what?” He found a knot behind her right shoulder blade and kneaded it with his knuckle.
“That thing you do where it sounds like you say one thing but really mean another.”
A pause. “I always say exactly what I mean.”
“Yeah, okay.” When she twisted toward him, his hands dropped. “What about telling me to take off my top?”
“It’s fairly self-explanatory, Vivienne,” he drawled, rolling his eyes. “I wanted you to take off your top so I could help you with your sore shoulders.”
“You know what I thought you meant.” His mock innocence wasn’t fooling her. “I thought you were saying that you wanted to see me topless.”