Chapter 21
~Daley~
All the self-confident detachment I practiced this morning in the mirror vanishes as soon as Deacon appears in front of me, a slow smile on his gorgeous face as he looks me up and down and calls me ‘Mama’.
“I… uh… hi,” I stutter out, sounding closer to a schoolgirl than a mature woman who should not be thrown off her game just because a sexy man looks her way.
But fuck, is he sexy. Dressed casually in jeans and a sweater that stretches across his broad chest just right, he looks like he walked off the pages of a fall photo shoot. “You made it.”
Brilliant, Daley. Obviously he made it since he’s standing in front of you.
Deacon doesn’t let my clumsy response deter him, continuing to smile at me in a way that makes my insides melt. “I did, and just in time by the looks of it.” His gaze finally leaves me to travel over the table in front of me, still strewn with boxes of supplies. “Where should I start?”
“You don’t need to help set up,” I protest. “Just being here is favour enough. Jane and I have things under control. Why don’t you go get yourself a coffee and something to eat from the booth inside?”
I gesture towards the windows at the end of the rink that look towards the building’s concession stand, and Deacon follows the direction of my point with a grimace. “I think I’m likely to get mobbed if I head that way, so I’d rather stay here if you don’t mind.”
With a start, I realize he’s right. People are already lining the other side of the windows, looking our way, and along the row of tables where we are, people at the other stands are whispering to each other while glancing over at us. I can barely spot anyone who isn’t staring.
“I guess most people recognize you on sight, huh?”
Deacon catches my meaning, as he always does, recalling how I didn’t recognize him in Las Vegas. “They usually do,” he agrees good-naturedly. “And I think your booth is going to get very busy once those doors open, so let’s make sure we’re ready for it.”
He rubs his hands together as he surveys the boxes covering my table again.
“Put me to work, Mama.”
Another liquid, pooling sensation hits me deep in my abdomen. Why that word out of his mouth affects me like this, I don’t know, but it flusters me all the same. I have to clear my throat as I gather my thoughts.
“So, our experiment today is a pretty simple one. We figure we can get ten kids at a time around the table, and each of these boxes is already organized into sets of ten of the necessary supplies. You can stack these boxes in the corner over there to start with while I hang up our posters.”
“Got it.” He gives me a salute before stacking at least six boxes on top of each other and carrying them to the back of the booth as if they weigh no more than a stack of pillows. Damn.
It takes me a second to realize I’m staring and I quickly give my head a shake, getting back to setting up the display the way we planned it.
“Well, hello there.” Jane appears a few moments later, carrying the last of our supplies from her car, and immediately drops everything to stride over to Deacon, her hand outstretched. “You must be Deacon. I’m Jane, Daley’s employee.”
“My best friend, who also works with me,” I quickly correct as Deacon shoots Jane a charming smile and grasps her hand in his much larger one.
Jane's eyes widen as she takes him in fully and I can’t blame her.
Even though she’s seen him on TV and online, he’s pretty damn impressive in person.
“You make me sound like a tyrant who keeps you on a leash.”
“I never said anything about bondage,” she protests before giving Deacon a wink. “What she does behind closed doors is none of my business.”
His deep laugh rumbles straight to my core as I grab Jane's arm and pull her away from him. “Deacon’s working on the experiment supplies so how about you help me with this banner?”
“You got it.” She shoots Deacon a conspiratorial grin and I’m already dreading the moment I have to step away and leave the two of them alone together. She promised she wouldn’t bring up Vegas, but that leaves a lot of ways she can still get me into trouble.
For the next fifteen minutes, we all work together companionably, Deacon and Jane following my instructions until the booth is set up as I envisioned it.
Several people wander by, doing a poor job of hiding the way they stare at the Wolves’ captain, but no one interrupts us and we all pretend not to notice them.
When everything is in place, we step back to admire our efforts together. “It actually makes science look fun,” Deacon declares, and Jane snickers.
“Rule number one of working here: don’t badmouth science, especially biology. I found that out the hard way.”
Ignoring her teasing, I turn to Deacon. “I’ll run the first round or two of the experiments, and if you’re comfortable with it after that, you can take over while I talk to parents.”
“You trust me not to screw it up?” he asks, not sounding like he’s entirely joking.
“Like I said, it’s pretty simple. And I bet more kids are going to remember that they hung out with you than what the experiment is about anyway.”
“You’re the boss.” He gives me that same salute as before, accompanied by a smile that stirs all kinds of thoughts I shouldn’t be having.
Even though I’ve told myself nothing is going to happen tonight when we’re alone at my house, I can’t stop my mind from imagining what could happen if things were just a little different between us.
To hide my blush, I glance down at my watch. “Okay, we’ve got about ten minutes left. I’m going to run to the restroom and grab a coffee. Anyone want anything?”
“Coffee for me, strong and dark,” Jane orders.
Deacon shakes his head. “Nothing for me, I’ve got water and nutrition bars in my bag.”
No alcohol and no caffeine either, apparently. He’s serious about taking care of his body, and it definitely shows.
When Deacon turns his back, I mime zipping my lips at Jane to remind her not to say anything too embarrassing while I’m gone before making my way to the restrooms inside.
The room is empty when I walk in but almost immediately after I lock the door of my stall, two other women walk in, chatting as they do.
Rather than coming into the stalls beside me, they stay some distance away, meaning they probably just came in to check their makeup.
“Did you get a look at Deke Belin? My God, that man could do unspeakable things to me and I would thank him for the privilege.”
The other woman snorts with laughter and I have to cover my mouth with my hand to keep from joining in. I can’t say that I disagree with any part of her statement.
“If I weren’t married, I’d totally agree. What is he doing here anyway?” the second woman asks.
“He’s going to be at River’s mom’s booth, apparently,” the first one answers. I don’t warrant a name, it seems; ‘River’s mom’ is my whole identity.
“I know that, but I mean why?”
“I guess because of River.” I can practically hear the woman’s shrug in her voice. “I can’t think of any other reason. Apparently, Aileen Kemp practically propositioned him when he got here and he barely looked her way.”
Something suspiciously close to jealousy bubbles in my stomach as I picture the pretty young mom they’re talking about.
She’s beautiful and much closer to Deacon’s age than I am.
The idea of her flirting with him leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, only sweetened by the news that Deacon didn’t reciprocate.
“River’s friends have always treated Daley like a second mom,” the same woman adds. So, she does know my name. I still can’t place her voice, though. “Seems like that hasn’t changed. He’s probably doing his good deed for the day, like helping an old lady across the street.”
My jaw drops as the women both laugh.
Old lady? Is that actually what people think of me?
The door opens again and more people come in, causing the gossiping women to cut their conversation short.
Apparently, they didn’t notice one of the stalls was occupied the whole time.
I wait until I’m pretty sure they’ve gone before leaving the restroom myself and heading to the concession stand to pick up our coffee.
All eyes seem to be on me, everywhere I look, and I wonder if they’re all thinking the same thing as those two women, that Deacon is here to help out an ‘old lady’.
If they only knew.
The thought gives me a secret little thrill, and I realize it truly doesn’t matter what any of them think. Why should I care? I know exactly how Deacon thinks of me and it’s certainly not as someone elderly or even motherly.
Holding my head a little higher, I meet their gazes straight on, giving them all my best enigmatic smile as I carry the cups of coffee back to my stall to get the day started.