Chapter Thirteen Alexandra
Two weeks had passed since the night I’d slept with Deacon.
I continued coming to the compound every day like nothing momentous had happened that night.
I usually stayed for dinner at least two nights a week.
I found myself in a peculiar dance with Rev.
He continued not to make a formal move on me, but whenever I was around, he gave me all his undivided attention.
Whenever I would find myself talking at length to Rev at the dinner table or around the compound, I would always feel Deacon’s hot gaze on me.
His behavior was so confusing. Deacon still seemed to want something romantic to happen between Rev and me, but his pointed looks seemed to tell a different story.
Of course, I knew better than to question him.
He was the master of being evasive and turning the tables on me.
Besides, I wasn’t sure I could handle a relationship with sweet, respectful Rev, never mind volatile and brooding Deacon.
Today after Willow and I finished with our lesson, I was surprised to find Deacon waiting on us outside the door. “You got a minute?”
“Sure.”
“I wanted to show you something.”
Willow stomped her foot beside us. “Deacon, that’s not fair!” Then she flounced past us to go to Archer’s side.
My brows creased in confusion. “What’s she upset about?”
Deacon chuckled. “She’s pissed because she knows I’m going to show you the work I’ve done on the ballet studio.”
“But why would she care about that?”
“Because I’m making her wait to see it until it’s finished. You know, to be a surprise.”
I couldn’t help smiling at him for not only building the studio for Willow, but for wanting the finished product to be a surprise. Our shoes crunched down the gravel path. “Any idea when Willow might be able to return to school?”
Deacon shook his head. When he didn’t say anything else, I sighed. “You ready to get rid of this job already?” he asked.
“You know that I love working with Willow. I just worry about her.”
With true concern etched on his face, Deacon questioned, “You think I’m hurting her by keeping her here?”
“No, she’s perfectly safe and happy here. I just hate that she doesn’t have involvement with other children.”
He scratched the stubble on his jaw. “Maybe I can get Kim to bring her kids over more. She and Case have some close to Willow’s age. Mac’s got a granddaughter close to her age too.”
“I think that would be a great idea.”
Deacon motioned for me to go on ahead of him up the porch steps. When we got inside, Willow sat at the kitchen table with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face.
“Hey thundercloud face, you’re going to make it rain in here,” I said, with a smile.
“I wanna see the studio.”
“And you will when it’s totally finished,” Deacon replied, as he opened the basement door for me.
“I’ll come down with you two and see the progress,” Liz said.
Knowing that now Mama Liz was also getting to see the studio made Willow fume even harder, so I gave her an understanding smile and said we’d be back up soon.
I stepped carefully on the worn boards of the stairs.
From my vantage point, I could see why Willow had found it frightening.
But when I reached the bottom of the staircase, I gasped in surprise.
While the basement was one large room that ran the length of the house, Deacon had worked to clear out the far end.
Mirrors ran the length of the far wall while a new tile floor had been placed down.
I don’t know how he had known to get the kind like I had at the dance studio.
New lights had been put up to where it didn’t appear so dark and foreboding, and the walls closest to the studio space were painted pink.
Willow’s wish had been granted with a barre.
“So what do you think?” Deacon asked.
Gazing around the room, I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. “This is…amazing. You thought of everything.” Turning to him, I asked, “You really did all this yourself?”
With a wink, he replied, “I’ve told you before I’m a man of many talents.”
Liz chuckled. “What he means to say is that we have a few electricians and contractors in the club who helped him.”
“Thanks for giving away my secrets, Mom,” Deacon said, good-naturedly.
“Pride goeth before a fall,” she replied.
Deacon merely rolled his eyes at her response. At the far end of the room, I noticed a pile of boxes along with some odds and ends.
“What’s all this?” I asked, motioning to an old stereo system with a turntable and a box of old records.
“That’s my old man’s vinyl collection. I didn’t know if you could use the stereo or not.”
“I don’t think so. Most of the music I’ll use with Willow is on my iPod.” I thumbed through some of the records. “Wow, there’s some great classics in here.”
“I didn’t peg you as an Oldies fan,” Deacon mused.
“Oh, I grew up on the Oldies. My parents used to clean the house every Saturday with Motown blaring—The Temptations, The Four Tops, Martha and the Vandellas.” I smiled. “These bring back so many memories.”
Deacon took the album out of my hand and put it on the turntable. The familiar crack and pop of a record filled my ears before the unmistakable opening of My Girl came out of the speakers.
“You should teach Deacon to dance,” Liz suggested.
My brows rose in surprise. “You don’t know how to dance?”
He scowled at both his mother and me. “I’ve never had a reason to learn.”
Giving Deacon a pat on the back, Liz said, “Give it a try. They have Daddy/Daughter dinner dances at Willow’s school. Don’t they, Alexandra?”
“Yes, they do.”
“Just another reason not to put her back there,” Deacon replied.
Liz laughed. “I’m going to start dinner. Maybe by the time it’s done, you’ll have learned a few steps?”
While he didn’t say no, the glare on his face certainly wasn’t saying yes. As Liz started upstairs, I took a tentative step forward, holding out my arms. “Wanna try?”
“If I don’t, you’ll think I’m a fucking pussy, right?”
I laughed. “Maybe.”
With a grunt, he closed the distance between us. His arms started to slip around my waist. “We’re not slow dancing like a school dance. This is different.”
“How the fuck is it different?”
“Put one of your hands on my waist. Then put the other in my hand.” Once he did that, I smiled up at him. “Good job. Now you can either sway like this or do a box step.”
“I think I’d rather sway,” he replied, his hand tightening on my waist. Even beneath the fabric of my skirt, my skin felt inflamed by his simple touch.
It was the first time we had been this close, touched this intimately, since the night we’d let our personal skeletons dance precariously around the room.
It wasn’t the first time a man had had his hands on me, but something about Deacon’s touch felt different.
Nervousness, coupled with anticipation, tingled through my body.
Although I had tried to ignore his magnetism before, there was no denying it now.
While he was so incredibly good-looking, it was his strong, all-male presence that overwhelmed me.
Good sense told me that a woman like me should never want to be in a room alone with a man like him, but I chose to ignore the voices of doubt in my head.
Instead, I decided to just let myself feel.
As he stared down at me, the expression on his face changed. I swallowed hard at the intensity of the look burning in his eyes. I didn’t know how something so innocent had changed over to something so illicit. Since the night we’d shared a bed, everything had changed between us.
The crackling pop of the vinyl changed over to another song.
As the sultry beat came out of the speakers, I immediately recognized it.
Dusty Springfield’s Son of a Preacher Man.
At that moment, there couldn’t have been a song better suited to us.
I stood before a Preacher Man’s son, desperately wanting him to do some of the things in the song.
Just the thought sent an ache spreading between my legs.
The only one who could ever reach me was the son of a preacher man.
Deacon’s eyes met mine, and I couldn’t help noticing the lustful gleam flickering bright in them. “Don’t look at me like that,” he growled.
“How am I looking at you?” I panted.
“Like you want to fuck me.”
The electricity in the air around us crackled and popped the same as the vinyl coming out of the stereo speakers.
I knew I should turn and run away. I had a job to do with Willow, which didn’t include fucking her father.
While I knew that being with Deacon would be a body-altering experience, it was an emotional landmine that I didn’t think I could escape unscathed from.
Everything within me screamed to pry myself from his tight embrace and run upstairs to the safe sanctuary of Liz’s kitchen.
Being good isn’t always easy. No matter how hard I try.
But as Deacon continued to stare at me like a predator would with its prey, I wanted nothing more than to be consumed.
Without a word, Deacon’s thumb inched slowly over my bottom lip.
Acting on its own volition, my tongue snaked out to flick against his skin.
Deacon’s dark eyes flared before he ducked his head and crushed his lips to mine.
The force took me off guard, and I staggered back.
His strong arms caught me before dragging me closer to him.
Just as I had imagined, he knew what he was doing when it came to kissing.
Deacon’s tongue plunged into my mouth as his fingers came to tangle through the strands of my hair.
When he tugged them, I moaned into his mouth, enjoying the sting of pain.
My hands slid up his back to grip the tops of his shoulders for dear life.
His lips, along with the strength of his body and feel of his fingers, had the ability to liquefy my bones and muscles.
At any moment, I expected to melt down his body and collapse into a puddle in the floor.