Chapter Sixteen
WINTER
“Hello,” Deacon said, coming into the store a few minutes before closing. He dusted off his coat and pulled off his beanie, looking windswept and incredibly handsome.
“This is a nice surprise,” I said, unable to stop grinning.
“Oh.” He froze. “Should I have messaged you first?”
“Not at all. Come in, come in,” I said, ushering him away from the door. “Ugh. It’s bitter out there today.”
“Yes, it is.”
He was watching me with those intense eyes, but when I caught his gaze, he looked away, cheeks flushed. “So what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”
He winced. “Can I be honest with you?”
Oh dear.
Because no good conversation ever started with that.
“Yes, of course.”
“I’d like to invite myself to your house.”
Uh, what? I almost laughed, because that was not what I was expecting.
“Oh. Okay.”
He quickly became flustered. “I’m sorry . . .”
I took hold of his coat sleeve. “It’s okay, Deacon. You can come to my house. That’s what boyfriends do, after all, right?”
He let out a little laugh, cute as hell, but he was antsy.
“Tell me what’s bothering you,” I prompted gently.
“Christmas gifts.”
Okaaaay. Also not what I was expecting.
“It was brought to my attention that the exchange of Christmas gifts would be expected,” he said.
“Mom’s suggestion of something from the heart, while well-intentioned, was not entirely helpful.
Dad’s suggestion was to ask Mom. The internet suggested many things.
Most of which were not appropriate, or inappropriate.
I’ve seen things I could’ve lived happily never seeing.
” He grimaced and I did my very best not to smile.
“It was also disheartening to see how many times books made the top three suggestions. Which I would normally agree with, but . . .” He gestured around us, to the walls lined with books and grimaced.
“Other suggestions were something for your house or your room, but I’ve seen neither.
I realize this eliminates any hope of a surprise, but would it not be worse to get the wrong gift?
What if I got you something that you already have.
Or have ten of? I don’t know. Do you collect anything?
Do you like plants? LEGOs? These are things I feel I should know.
But I don’t, because I’ve never been to your house.
I’ve never seen your things, your room. So I thought I could remedy that by inviting myself over; however, I realize now that it was rude, so I explained the whole gift conundrum, and—”
My smile eventually won out. “You are so cute.”
He blinked.
“But yes,” I went on. “Christmas gifts. We should discuss. And maybe set some guidelines—”
“I suggested parameters to my parents. Dad said yes. Mom told me to go with my heart. But surely if we have parameters, we’ll have a better idea of expectations, and then I can apply the suggestion of meaning.”
He was just so stinking cute.
“One hundred percent agreed.”
He let out a big sigh of relief. “Good.”
“I’m glad we talked about it,” I said. “Thank you for bringing it up.”
He was smiling, eyes bright, his cheeks a rosy pink. “It really is best to talk about things.”
“It totally is. And look at us getting it right.” I went to the front door, locked it, and pulled the blind. “Let me just get closed up here, then we can go. I think Ro was making lasagna for dinner. Do you eat that? Or should we grab a pizza on the way home?”
“Lasagna is fine,” he said.
“I’ll just shoot her a quick text to let her know you’ll be joining us,” I said, taking out my phone and thumbing out a quick text.
“She won’t mind? I feel bad. Maybe we could leave it until tomorrow and give her notice—”
My phone beeped while he was still talking. I held it up so he could see the screen. “She already said it’s fine.” Then I read the message. “Actually, she said how exciting; first dinner date as boyfriends, so I’d say she’s more than okay with it.”
He blushed and let out a cute little bubble of laughter. “Oh.”
“I haven’t stopped smiling all day,” I admitted.
“And your line of poetry this morning . . .” I sighed dreamily.
“Okay, so I may have gotten that text when I met Gunter out the front of the store this morning. I swooned and he saw. I had to tell him about the boyfriend status, but I told him to keep it on the downlow because I wasn’t sure how public you wanted to be. ”
“Oh.” He made a face. “I wasn’t hiding it. I should have asked you that, but it didn’t occur to me. I also fail to see how it’s anyone else’s business, but I don’t care if people know.”
Now it was me who did a cute little laugh. “Me either.”
“Apparently I was grinning so much I scared Mr. Sanchez.”
That made me laugh.
I closed out the till for the day and locked the money away while Deacon perused the bookshelves. “Is this new?”
I poked my head out of the storeroom to see him holding a book on Cambodian history. “Yes. Came in yesterday.”
“My dad would like this,” he said.
“Great Christmas gift idea,” I said with a laugh.
“Have you been busy?”
“Steady, yes. The weather made it quieter today though. I didn’t mind. It allowed me to catch up on some paperwork.”
He nodded. “Are you still happy here?”
I came out then so he could see my face when I answered that. “Are you kidding? Coming to Hartbridge, opening this store, adopting Merry and Bright, and meeting you? Best decision of my life so far.”
He smiled, his eyes meeting mine. He didn’t look away this time. “I’m glad you moved here.”
“Me too.” I sighed. “Well, speaking of Merry and Bright, I better get home. Poor Ro has had them all day. She said it was too cold for them to be transported around, even in their blankets and baby carrier.”
“She was probably right.”
“Which means they’ve been running her ragged all day. We should go save her.”
“Okay. I’ll follow you in my truck.”
“Okay.”
It was ridiculous how giddy he made me. Driving home, I was almost dancing in my seat, excited and thrilled at how things were progressing between us.
Gunter had joked again this morning about the Christmas Cupid, and I didn’t even bother correcting him anymore. Because I was thinking maybe he was right?
Deacon was perfect for me. All his idiosyncrasies and quirks matched my own.
Like a patchwork of odds and ends, of bright colors that at first glance might look out of place, but together we made a cohesive, happy picture.
Once we’d figured out how we should communicate—once we’d understood each other a little better—things between us were easy.
I didn’t care what society might think of us.
I didn’t care what other couples thought of our minimal-contact, sexless lives.
We were happy. And we were complete. Nothing was missing. Nothing was lacking.
Sure, it was incredibly new and still quite early in the relationship. But I had a very good feeling about us. I could definitely see myself with him long-term.
He made me happy.
I liked that he’d dropped into my store unannounced. I got the feeling he didn’t do much, if anything at all, spontaneously. He must have driven himself to the point of distraction with the whole gift-giving thing. He’d googled things.
But what he hadn’t done was spiraled. Instead, he’d referred to the internet and his parents, and when he wasn’t satisfied with that, he came to me and asked.
It felt like a big deal and I wanted him to know that I appreciated his effort.
I waited for him by my car as he pulled in behind me, and we hurried through the front door together. We took off our coats and boots, the warm house a welcome reprieve from the bitter wind outside.
“There’ll be a good dump of snow by the morning,” Deacon said. Then he looked up at me, alarmed. “Do you have someone to plow your driveway? You could be late to work, or worse, stuck or isolated.”
I smiled at his concern. “I think Ro has that all set up, but I’ll double-check.” I nodded through the entrance. “Come this way.”
It was a gorgeous old farmhouse. In dire need of some love and modernization, but the white wooden paneling and pale cream walls, high ornate ceilings were rarely found outside of old homes such as this.
“In the kitchen,” Ro called out.
I followed my nose, leading the way. “Dinner smells amazing,” I said as we walked in, Deacon a step behind me.
Ro gave us a warm smile. “Deacon, welcome. I hope lasagna and salad is okay for dinner?”
“Yes, thank you,” he said quietly.
“Where are the boys?” I asked. “I hope they weren’t too much for you today.”
“They’re in their crate. You know, they’d be monsters if they weren’t so adorable. They tired themselves out and fell asleep, but—” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “—it’s getting to be their dinnertime. And they’ll hear your voice, no doubt.”
I smiled at Deacon. “Let’s go check on them.”
The living room was small and cozy. And by that, I mean with one three-seater lounge, a coffee table, a wood burning stove, a Christmas tree, and a crate, not much else would fit.
Small and cozy, yes. But we loved it.
Bright was sitting at the front gate, as if he were a time warden and I was half a minute late. Merry came plodding over with the cutest little squeak, demanding freedom immediately.
“They’ve grown,” Deacon noted.
They really had. “Grown into their own little personalities too. Bright is still a terror-gremlin, and Merry is a sweetheart. But I love them both equally.”
I opened the crate door and scooped them both up. Merry’s meows were daddy, I missed you and Bright’s were more like where is my food, peasant-human. “I better feed them or Bright will knife me with his murder-mittens.”
Deacon smiled as I handed them both over. He was so adept at handling them. He was gentle but firm, in a way a veterinarian should be, I guessed. Bright tried to follow me by launching himself into mid-air. Deacon was also good at catching, as it turned out.
It made me laugh.