73. Henri
Chapter 73
Henri
Cade knocked on my office door on his way to the kitchen, where we were going to make dinner together as a family. Finishing up my last email for the day, I was so excited to see Deacon.
Through the bond, he’s felt kind of tense and off since we’ve been home. I asked about it yesterday, and he said it was just an adjustment period, that he was seeing ancestors, and that he was sure it would get better.
But hearing the conversation in the kitchen and learning that he wasn’t giving me the whole truth stung.
Things were tense when I walked into the kitchen on the heels of Deacon’s outburst. While the hostility fled the room after him, it was clear there was fallout, and the awkward tension hung tight in the air.
“I’m so sorry,” I start.
It’s a knee-jerk reaction. Instantly on the defense of him and our relationship. That brings hot tears to my eyes.
“No.” Cade cuts me off with a shake of his head. “Deacon sure as fuck doesn’t need you covering for him. Come sit. I’ll go talk to him.”
That strikes me the wrong way. “No, thank you.”
Cade freezes, looking at me.
“With all due respect, I don’t know that anything any of you can say is going to help him.” I stand my ground firmly.
Finn looks so guilty, his eyes lowered to the floor, head bowed.
Lena breaks the silence first. “Why don’t you go up and see him? I’ll have the big asshole here make extra, and we’ll send it up to you if you don’t want to come back down for dinner.”
“Thank you. I’ll just take some leftovers up.” I go to the fridge and grab a couple of the reusable bottles of water and two of the containers of leftovers. Moving to the microwave, I reheat them, willing it to work faster.
Two and a half minutes feels like forever, but finally they’re done and hot enough. I stack everything up on one of the trays and head out without another word. I don’t even know if I’m mad or disappointed. All I know is that I feel how sad he is through our bond, and I want to be there for him.
Deacon’s suite door is unlocked and ajar when I get up there. The curtains to the setting sun are drawn, and most of the lights are off, with the exception of some of his display cabinets and the large balanced arm lamp over his desk.
Big blueprint papers are rolled out across his desktop.
“Hey,” I say, trying to look cool like he does while leaning against the doorframe.
He turns to look at me and gives me a pained, soft smile. “Hey.”
“I brought food?” I offer the tray toward him.
Deacon moves quickly, pushing the blueprints aside. They curl themselves up, and he elevates the side of his desk and then grabs the folding chair, putting it on the opposite side. He offers me his desk chair and waits for me to set the tray down before joining me.
“I’m sorry,” Deacon says softly.
“No.” I echo Cade. “You don’t have to apologize to me for that.”
He furrows his brow. “The look you gave me downstairs says otherwise.”
“What you saw on my face was me coming into a conversation confused, wondering what is hurting you.” I open the lid on a container, super hungry and ready to eat. “You’re the one who’ll have to sort out whatever that conversation was and why it upset you, but I think they mean well.”
Deacon smiles at me. It’s unexpected, and the mood in the bond changes. “I fucking love you, Hen.”
“I love you too,” I answer, nodding, but it turns into a headshake. “What’s... What did I say that’s got you smiling?”
He laughs. “You’re perfect. I need to do better.”
Heat creeps up my neck, and I feel my cheeks turn pink. I turn the subject back away from me. “You’ve been different since we’ve been home. Are you doing okay?”
Deacon sighs and starts picking at the food. “I thought I had control of my gift, and maybe at one point I did, but I don’t now. Wishful thinking, maybe? But I’m trying to do the right thing and deal with my gift in the right way. It’s hard. I don’t want to distract you, but?—”
“But you don’t think of suicide when we’re in the same room.” I repeat what he’s told me before, pulling at the memories and confessions we’ve made to each other.
Deacon swallows hard. “It’s not just that. I spent so much time with you and getting to know you that I miss you. I’m trying to adjust to being apart, but I don’t want to.”
“Well, there’s lots of room in my office, and as long as you’re quiet on calls and out of sight for video chats, I don’t see any reason why we couldn’t spend more time together.” I shrug, picking up the other container and taking a bite. I bet we could fit a bigger couch for him to lie on if he wants to.
“Seems to me that my brother is eventually going to demand that I get back out and handle the world.” Deacon is a bit more forceful in stabbing into his container of food.
“Oh.” Dread sinks through me. There are a ton of events on the calendar that would be Deacon-responsibility level, and the majority are scattered across the country. I don’t want to be away from him. “Don’t stress about it. I’ve got some ideas.”
“No, you don’t, but you’ll think of some.” Deacon laughs, calling me out on my little white lie.
Deacon eats with me in comfortable silence, his tension relaxing and settling in.
When we’re done, he puts the food tray and the reusable water bottles outside on the table near his suite door.
“I can just take that downstairs?” I offer, guilt settling in that we’re making a mess for someone else.
“We have staff for that, Henri.” Deacon reminds me, lacing his fingers in mine. “I need to cuddle you more than I need to make their life easier.”
“We have staff.” I repeat his words, and they startle me, causing me to stiffen. “Deacon, we have staff. You bit me, and I’m pack Alden, but now I’m like... pack Alden.”
“Technically when we file the paperwork, you’ll be Pack Ardelean.” Deacon smiles like that’s any better. “Cade held a vote with the family. Lena gave me the name change documents to file. I figured I’d get around to it after I talked to you about it. I didn’t know if you wanted to keep your last name.”
“Deacon.” I let him lead me into the bedroom as he walks backward through the space he knows so well.
“Hen.” He echoes my tone back to me. It’s mystified and breathy.
“No, I don’t have any intelligent thoughts.” I give up.
He stops me by the closet, unbuttoning my blouse.
“That’s okay. I was kind of expecting this to sink in eventually.” He starts sliding the shirt off my shoulders, and I help him pull it off me. “Henri, regardless of what happens to me or what happens to us, you’re extremely wealthy and don’t have to work a day in your life for the rest of your life. My assets, which can be liquidated outside the Ardelean Fund, are enough to live on for decades. Managed correctly, could be enough for a lifetime. Inside the fund, my contribution is well, I don’t know that it’s larger than Cade’s acquisition of Corinth Security, but I’ve only reported a loss once.”
“Deacon,” I squeak when he starts unbuttoning my pants. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Just so you remember that you may be Cade’s pack publicist, but inside the family dynamic, you’re an equal.” He runs his hands down my legs with the fabric of the pants, and it should be sexual, but it isn’t. The care is a dedication met with a melancholy feeling in the bond that I can’t place. “You’re filthy fucking rich.”
He’s on his knees before me, and I push my fingers into his hair, pulling on it. Disheveled like this, the family resemblance is more noticeable with Ansel than Cade.
“I don’t need to be rich. I just need to have you.” I reassure him but step out of my dress slacks. “Come on, let’s have a cuddle puddle on the bed and veg out for the rest of the night.”
“Absolutely.” Deacon kisses my stomach before picking up my pants as he comes to stand.
He tosses them in the dirty laundry before I can object that they’re not that dirty and grabs a T-shirt out of the closet for me to put on .
“Sweatpants?” I ask, and he goes back, pulling those out for me and a pair for himself too.
How did this get to be the most comfortable thing in the world?
My wolf practically rolls her eyes, and that’s answer enough.