20. Tanner
TANNER
Deacon bats my hand away when I reach for the doorhandle of his truck, causing me to snort at the ridiculousness of it.
No one has ever opened a car door for me; that was always my job.
I don’t know if I like it or not, and I can tell Deacon is amused by the way he can’t quite wipe the smile from his face as he drives us to the Brew, Q, ’n Boogie.
It’s a local hangout in Blackstone Falls that’s owned and run by Jake Booker.
He and his wife, Cheyenne, are always with the Thayers, so I know them about as well as anyone else.
Jake let Sorren and me host an adoption event a couple of years ago, and I make a mental note to ask Sorren if we should try to do it again. The space is basically a wide-open field with an outdoor concert stage and plenty of room for food trucks, vendor tents, picnic blankets, chairs, and dancing.
“It’s been a while since I’ve been out here,” Deacon says as he parks his truck in the lot and kills the ignition.
“Jake’s done a lot since he got it up and running.”
“You come here often?” he asks, his tone impossible to read.
“Just when someone drags me out of the house.” When he lifts an eyebrow, I add, “Usually Otto or Case—not like a date.”
“Well, this,” he murmurs, gripping my chin, “is very much a date.” My breath hitches in my throat and I want him to kiss me again, the intensity and desire swirling in his eyes making it impossible to think of anything else.
But he doesn’t.
Instead he growls a pointed don’t move before climbing out of the truck and rounding the hood to open my door. I don’t mind it so much now, not when he’s staring at me like he wants to devour me.
The thought is both terrifying and exhilarating, and my mind immediately flashes to us kissing in my kitchen. What would have happened if he hadn’t pulled away?
Part of me is thankful that we didn’t go any further, but the other is mourning the lack of release that would have happened if I asked for it.
Because he definitely would have made me ask.
Deacon lingers before me, his gaze dropping to my lips before sighing and reaching for my hand. Belatedly, I hear the door shut as he leads us toward the crowd.
“Is this all right?” His fingers squeeze mine and I nod, liking the way it makes me feel claimed maybe for the first time since my divorce.
“I like it,” I admit and he rewards me with a suggestive curve of his lips that’s filled with a whole lot of promise I can’t even begin to unpack right now.
“I like it too.”
We walk in silence for a few minutes, as a country band warms up on stage and lines form at the food trucks.
I’ve done this before, but it’s like I’m experiencing it for the first time, my stomach flipping with nerves at being here with someone that makes my heart beat faster and my body come to life.
“Why did you want to come here?”
A beat passes and then a second before Deacon says, “I uh, wanted to take you somewhere I don’t usually go.”
“I…appreciate that.” Silently I add I think but my mind is already running in a million different directions and none of them seem good.
What other places are his usual spots?
How many does he have?
Do they still mean the same thing when he goes there?
“Tanner?” Deacon says, jolting me from my thoughts when he pulls me to a stop.
“Yeah?”
“It’s been a long time since I’ve had a usual anything.”
I can feel my cheeks heat, and I really don’t appreciate the concern written all over his ruggedly handsome face.
“It’s fine.”
“Tanner.” His fingers tighten around mine, and I release a heavy exhale, my nostrils flaring and my jaw clenching.
“I get that you have a past, and at this point, I feel like I’ve given you plenty of chances to get out of this.
” I lift our joined hands and give them a little shake for emphasis.
“So stop. I get to be wary about the idea of you having usual hookup spots.” He opens his mouth to speak but I shake my head.
“And I also get to decide if I trust you. And I do. So that’s it.
Stop trying to make everything less to protect me. ”
Deacon licks his lips as he stares. His gaze locked on me is full of desire, the kind that normally would have me shifting from foot to foot to relieve the pressure in my jeans. “There’s not a chance in hell I want to get out of this.”
It’s a promise, the words rumbling from somewhere deep in his chest before they hit my ears.
God, that’s hot.
“Good.”
His lips twitch before he rolls them inward, presumably to hide his amusement. “Very good, Sweetheart.”
“You said it again.”
“I did.”
“Is that part of your usual routine?” There’s fire behind the question and despite just proclaiming that I’m not insecure, I need to know.
For me.
Fallon and I had used “Babe” a lot but that always felt like a default phrase. And even though “Sweetheart” isn’t unique, it’s the way it rolls off his tongue that has me wanting to melt at his feet.
I want that to be just for me.
Instead of answering, Deacon pulls me away from the crowd, his grip tightening on mine, and even though he’s practically stomping, his boots are almost silent as he traverses over the trampled grass.
I’m about to ask where the hell he’s going when he spins me, his fingers possessively digging into my waist as he backs me against a tree. He swallows the oof that escapes as his mouth crashes over mine, his tongue plundering every nook and cranny as he cages me against the rough bark.
“Only. You. Do you hear me? Only you.” I swallow hard, the vehemence in his voice leaving me lightheaded.
“Yes.” It’s barely audible, but he hears it because his forehead drops to mine.
“Fuck.” His lips are softer now, each kiss seducing and reassuring me all at the same time.
“I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“I don’t want you to doubt me or what we’re doing. I’d rather you ask so I can pin you to a tree until you know exactly how I feel.”
I chuff out a laugh, but it’s more disbelief at the way this entire night has spiraled.
We should be laughing and eating and listening to music but instead I turned it into a cluster of a situation.
The reality of my lack of dating experience and relationships in general feels so overwhelming I can barely breathe.
Why am I doing this?
Why is he doing this?
“Hey,” Deacon’s voice is gentle as he searches my gaze. “Talk to me.”
“I think I just want to go home.”
“Tanner, please, I—”
“It’s not you. I just need to catch my breath.”
“I shouldn’t have pushed you.”
“You didn’t… not really. This is still so new and more than that, it’s new in the way that I never had this with Fallon or even before her.”
“Feelings are uncomfortable. I get it, but I don’t want you to run.”
“I’m not running. I just…” I can feel the walls I’d taken down for him trying to shift back into place. “It’s too much right now.”
“All right,” he concedes as he takes a step back. “I’ll take you home.”