Chapter Seven Alexandra #2
We then started passing around the bowls of food. “This all looks so delicious,” I said, as I spooned some green beans onto my plate.
“Thank you,” Liz replied, with a pleased smile. After she offered me some cornbread, she asked, “Now where is it you’re from originally?”
“Marietta. I moved here when I was seventeen to live with my aunt and uncle.”
After nodding her head in acknowledgement, Liz chewed thoughtfully on her cornbread, and I could see the questions about my past whirling through her mind.
Deciding to put her out of her misery, I said, “My parents were killed in a car accident when I was seventeen. My brother and I came to live with my mother’s brother. ”
Liz’s face fell at my admission. “Oh honey, I’m so sorry. Such a terrible tragedy for one so young.”
As a knot formed in my throat, I could only nod my head in acknowledgment.
Although almost ten years had passed since my parents died, there were still times when I found it almost unbearable to think about, least of all to talk about.
Most of my initial grieving got pushed aside to be strong for Charlie.
“I believe your uncle is a lifer here?” Deacon asked, bringing me out of my thoughts.
“Well, for most of his life, I suppose. He was twenty when he got married and moved here to be with my aunt’s family.”
“He’s a former state trooper.”
My brows rose in surprise at all of Deacon’s knowledge about my family. “Yes, he retired two years ago with forty years with the Georgia State Patrol.”
“Ah, God’s Special Police,” Bishop said, with a grin.
I laughed. “A lot of his local PD buddies teased him with that.”
“Does he still have ties to the GSP or the local PD?” Deacon asked.
With a shrug, I replied, “I don’t really know. I think he’s enjoying his retirement a lot. He has a cabin in Blue Ridge, and he and my aunt spend a lot of time there.” Gazing down the table at him, I smiled. “Why all the interest in my uncle’s law enforcement ties?”
Deacon swiped his mouth with a napkin. “I was hoping he might help me with a speeding ticket.”
“It’s judges, not patrolmen, who fix tickets.”
He winked at me. “Good to know.”
Something told me he didn’t have any tickets that needed fixing. He was more concerned with how Uncle Paul might affect his club. Wanting to steer the subject away from Uncle Paul, I said, “This is delicious. You’re a wonderful cook, Mrs. Malloy.”
“Call me Liz. And thank you so much.”
“I should probably hire you to teach me to cook. I’m afraid that I’m not very good at it.”
Liz smiled. “I would be happy to teach you. But there would be no charge. It would be a pleasure.” Gazing around the table, she said, “Since I wasn’t blessed with daughters, I’d love to be able to pass on my knowledge.”
“You got a granddaughter,” Deacon protested.
“That’s right. I do. But it’s going to be a few more years before she’s ready to be unleashed in the kitchen.”
Willow paused in gnawing on a piece of ham to eye Liz. “But you said I’m your bestest cooking helper.”
“And you are, sweetheart. But you’re going to stay a helper for now rather than the cook.” At Willow’s crestfallen expression, Liz said, “You need to put all your energy into your schoolwork and being a ballerina.”
Tilting her head to the side, Willow mulled over Liz’s response. Then as she perked up, Willow turned to me. “Can my leotard have sparkles on it?” she asked.
“I don’t see why not.”
“And I want a pink tutu. Do I have to wear white tights or can I have pink?” As she rambled off more and more questions, her plate remained untouched.
“Finish your green beans,” Deacon instructed gruffly, showing a rare moment of his paternal side.
“Okaaay,” Willow mumbled.
Deacon’s brows rose while fire flashed in his eyes. “What did you say?”
Willow tucked her head to her chin, refusing to meet his eye. “Okay.”
“You say ‘yes sir’ when answering me.”
“Don’t be so hard on her,” Rev said.
Deacon pinned Rev with a hard glare. “Don’t tell me how to parent my kid.”
“She’s only five, Deacon,” Rev challenged.
At the rising voices of her father and uncle, Willow began shrinking down in her chair.
Desperate to soothe her distress and ease the building tension between the brothers, I blurted, “So which one of you Malloy boys is going to take me for a ride on his motorcycle? Cause you know, I’m a motorcycle virgin. ”
Rev’s fork clattered nosily onto his plate as he stared dumbfounded by my outburst while Deacon’s finger froze in mid point at Rev. Bishop started coughing on the large bite of cornbread he’d swallowed. He reached for his iced tea and drained it down in a long gulp.
“I do believe my request has rendered you all speechless,” I mused.
“I think it’s hearing the word virgin come out of your lips,” Bishop replied, with a cheeky grin.
“What’s a virgin?” Willow asked.
I giggled at the look of horror that crossed all three Malloy brothers’ faces at Willow’s question. “Something you’ll find out about when you’re older,” I answered, putting the boys off the hook. My response elicited a sigh of relief from the men, and a nod of approval from Liz.
For the remainder of the dinner, Willow concentrated on finishing her plate rather than asking any more questions.
When she was done, she glanced cautiously at her father.
“Did I do good, Deacon?” Her voice quivered a little as she waited for praise.
I wondered why she didn’t call him dad. I guess it was something she was working up to.
At her question, Deacon’s gruff expression momentarily softened. “Yeah, you did good, kid. Now go take your plate and rinse it off.”
As Willow started for the sink, my gaze locked on Deacon’s.
“I know I may have seemed…a little harsh about her eating, but she was pretty malnourished when she came here.”
Knowing the situation Willow lived in with her mother, I wasn’t too surprised by that information.
“I agree that she needs to eat her vegetables, and she needs to show you respect. My father asked the same thing of me when I was Willow’s age.
” I offered him a smile. “I think maybe your delivery could use just a bit of work, but other than that, you’re doing very well. ”
A smirk curved across his lips. “Thank you, Miss Evans.”
“You’re welcome.”
Liz rose from her seat. “All right boys, it’s time to clean up.”
A chorus of groans echoed around the table. “At least let me do the dishes since you were so kind to invite me to dinner.”
Liz smiled. “And deprive my sons of the task?”
I laughed at Bishop’s aggravated grunt and Deacon’s roll of his eyes. “No, I wouldn’t want to do that at all.”
“You gonna read me my bedtime story, Deacon?” Willow asked.
My eyes popped wide. “You read Willow bedtime stories?”
While Bishop snorted behind his napkin, Deacon crossed his tattooed arms over his chest. “Why is that so shocking, Ms. Evans?”
Oh God. What had come over me to totally stereotype Deacon, not to mention belittling him as a father.
With my embarrassment scalding my cheeks, I replied, “It’s not.”
“Your response would say otherwise.”
Desperately trying to get myself out of the situation, I quickly replied, “I was just surprised you took the time. It’s truly impressive. Most of my students’ read with their mothers instead of the fathers.”
When I realized I’d mentioned mothers in front of Willow, I shot out of my seat. “I, uh, well, I better go.”
“What’s your rush?” Rev questioned.
“I really need to get home.” Turning to Liz, I said. “Thank you again for dinner.”
“You’re more than welcome. Feel free to join us anytime. You have a standing invitation every night,” she said.
“That’s very sweet of you.”
As I started to the foyer, Rev suggested, “At least let one of us walk you to your car.”
Before I could reply, Deacon stepped in front of me. “I’ll do it.”
I tried ignoring the disappointment that flashed on Rev’s face while also hiding my surprise at Deacon’s uncharacteristically thoughtful gesture. “Um, thank you,” I mumbled, as I followed him out the door.
When we got outside onto the porch, the flame from Deacon’s cigarette lighter lit the way for us in the dark. The sound of his boots clomping across the floorboards filled the silence between us. After we pounded down the stairs, Deacon turned to me. “You know you should really go for Rev.”
“Excuse me?” I questioned in disbelief.
Deacon took a long drag on his cigarette. “He’s into you—I can tell.”
Cocking my head, I eyed him curiously. “Then why didn’t you let him walk me to my car?”
“Because I know him.
Funny, I thought you came out here to go off on me about my comment about you reading to Willow, not to play matchmaker.”
He chuckled. “It was worth it to see you squirm.”
“I did not,” I huffed.
“You turned the shade of a tomato and then tucked your tail and ran.”
With a roll of my eyes, I replied, “Fine. I was mortified by what I said to you, not to mention the whole mother comment in front of Willow.”
“It’s okay.”
Glancing past him to the house, I shook my head. “I hope I didn’t upset her.”
“Impossible.” When I started to argue, Deacon’s hand came to cup my cheek. “She worships the ground you walk on.”
“The feeling is mutual.”
“I really am sorry for what I said. It was wrong to stereotype you as a person and father.”
Deacon chuckled. “I don’t give a shit about that.”
“You don’t?”
He shook his head. “I understand why you said what you did.” After taking another drag on his cigarette, Deacon said, “Reading is how I started connecting to Willow when she first arrived and wasn’t talked.
I could make funny voices for the characters and act like an idiot, and she’d reward me with the brightest smile and giggles. ”
“That’s so sweet.”
He shrugged. “It was the same way with me and my late mom.”
It was the first time he had given me any insight into his childhood. I couldn’t help wondering what Deacon was like as a little boy. I was certainly curious about his life before he came to live with the Malloys.
“That’s wonderful you can pass that on to Willow.”
“Now what about Rev?”
With a groan, I replied, “Did you really have to go bring him up again in the middle of a sweet memory?” My comment earned me a scowl from Deacon. “What about dating him?”
“He seems very sweet, and he’s very good-looking. But…”
After exhaling a trail of smoke, his eyes found mine in the dark. “He’s not like Bishop and me if that’s what you’re worrying about.”
“How’s that?”
“He likes good women.”
“And after spending a couple of hours with me, you automatically know I’m good?” I countered.
“You’re sure as hell not a sweetbutt.”
“A what?”
He grinned. “Sorry, I keep forgetting you’re not of our world, White Bred.”
“Don’t call me that.”
After flicking off the growing ashes of his cigarette, Deacon said, “A sweetbutt is a chick who gets off by hanging around a MC club and banging any guy who wants to be with her.”
Wrinkling my nose, I replied, “You’re serious?”
“Hell yeah.”
“Why would women disrespect themselves like that?”
Deacon shrugged. “That’s their business, not mine.”
“Well, you’re certainly right about me not being a sweetbutt.”
“Which is a definite turn-on for Rev.”
“If Rev is so into me, why didn’t he walk me to my car?”
“Because he’s gun-shy with women. He got his heart broken by some bitch who never deserved him.”
“That’s awful.”
Deacon tossed his cigarette to the ground and then stomped it out with his boot. “He’s better off now, but he’s been through some rough times.”
“It’s very sweet of you to be looking out for him.”
“He’s my brother. I want him to be happy,” Deacon replied, as he led me around the side of the clubhouse. When my car came into view, I quickly dug my keys out of my purse. After I popped the locked, I met Deacon’s expectant gaze.
“I think it’s best if I focus solely on Willow right now and not romance.”
His brows knitted tightly together. “So that’s a no?”
I shrugged. “I guess it’s more of a not right now. How’s that?”
“Not what I wanted to hear.”
With a laugh, I opened my car door. “Goodnight, Deacon.”
“Goodnight, Miss Evans.”
“Are you never going to call me Alexandra?”
“Maybe…just not right now,” he replied, with a crooked smile.