Page 26 of Deacon (Men of Clifton, Montana #52)

He ran a hand through his graying hair. “If he hadn’t come here, would you have ever told him had a daughter?”

Ava exhaled a shaky breath. “I’d like to think that I would have eventually told him. He deserved to know. And please don’t remind me. I feel terrible about it.”

Her father’s shoulders eased. “Sweetheart, I’m not trying to shame you. I’m just relieved it’s out in the open.”

“How about we talk about something else?” Jessica suggested, offering Ava a comforting smile and Ava gave her a grateful look.

Later, Ava sank into the soft cushions of the living-room sofa, the afternoon light filtering through sheer curtains in lazy, golden bands across the floor.

Her fingers hovered over her phone’s smooth glass screen as she stared at Deacon’s name, her chest tightening with every heartbeat.

She knew he was coming back tomorrow but would he stop in to see her?

She drew in a shaky breath, the faint scent of lavender from Ella’s room drifting past her, and tapped out a message:

When are you coming to Maple Ridge?

The screen blinked back at her. She watched the little dots dance across the display, and felt her pulse quicken.

Tomorrow.

Her thumb trembled as she replied.

Will you be able to stop by?

Another pause, and then:

I’ll do my best.

Ava exhaled, tension easing from her shoulders. Okay. Let me know if you can.

I will.

Even in short replies, his exhaustion came through.

She pressed her palms into her eyes and let out a long, weary sigh.

There was nothing left for her to do but move to Clifton.

She just hoped they could make this work.

But living under the same roof didn’t guarantee love or commitment.

She craved something deeper, something defined by more than proximity and convenience.

Ava shook her head, brushing strands of hair from her face.

She couldn’t ignore the truth any longer; she was in love with him.

The realization had settled into her heart the morning after their first night together, bright and impossible not to feel.

Since then, his face haunted every quiet moment, every time she glanced at Ellie’s tiny fingers grasping her own, she could almost see Deacon’s hand intertwined with hers.

“How do you fall in love with someone you spent one night with?” she whispered into the hush of the room, as if hoping the answer might float down from the ceiling.

She had wanted to tell him she wanted to see him again, but she knew how busy he was with this case. Now she trembled, wondering if he believed their relationship could ever survive.

If it couldn’t, she didn’t know what either of them would do. The thought of moving didn’t unnerve her nearly as much as the idea of sharing a home with him while still living in uncertainty.

Fingers brushing the plastic remote, she scrolled through muted images on the TV, soap-opera lips moving in silent arguments, a cooking show’s bright studio kitchen. Then her phone buzzed, and she jumped. Deacon’s name glowed on the screen, and a frown creased her brow.

She pressed the answer button. “Deacon? I didn’t expect to hear from you.”

His voice came across the line, low and she could hear his exhaustion. “I’d like to drop by tomorrow. Is that alright? ”

“Yes, of course,” she said, brushing a hand over Ellie’s soft blanket draped across the couch beside her.

“Okay. I’ll let you know when I get to town.”

“Alright.”

“See you soon.” He hung up.

The next day, she was almost sick to her stomach.

She wanted to see him. To see if they could make this work, but the thought lingered about what would happen if they couldn’t.

The hush of the room felt heavier now, filled with unspoken hopes and the promise of difficult conversations to come.

He had sent her a message telling her he was on his way.

She rose quietly and moved through the living room, fluffing pillows and stacking magazines with careful precision.

She dusted the mantel, smoothed the rumpled throw over the sofa, then paused to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

Satisfied that everything looked as it should, she sank onto the edge of the couch, her fingers twisting the hem of her T-shirt as her heart hammered in her ribs.

Moments later, the low growl of a pickup engine rolled across the yard.

Butterflies erupted in her stomach, each wingbeat sending a fresh jolt of nerves through her chest. She pressed a trembling hand against her belly, trying to still the frantic pulse racing beneath her skin.

Then she heard heavy boots thud on the porch and rapid knocks on the front door.

Drawing in a steady breath, Ava stood and padded to the door.

She unlatched it and swung it open, and nearly moaned.

Deacon stood framed in the doorway, late afternoon sun glinting off the brim of his hat.

The shadow across his eyes only made his jawline sharper.

His red T-shirt hugged every ridge of muscle across his broad shoulders and chest, and her gaze dropped to the worn denim of his jeans, tracing the firm lines of his hips, then the fly.

She blinked, heart thundering, then forced herself to step back and widen the doorway.

“Come in,” she managed, voice softer than she intended.

Deacon removed his hat and brushed his boots against the welcome mat, then stepped into her home. He hung his Stetson on a hook by the door and turned to her, the scent of leather and sunbaked cotton lingering in the air between them.

“Is Ellie asleep?” he asked, voice low.

“She’s curled up in her crib, for another half hour, at least.” Ava tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Good. Then we have time to talk.”

“Of course,” she said, gesturing toward the sofa. “Please, sit. Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea?”

“Just water, thanks.”

“Coming right up.” She slipped past him into the kitchen, where the afternoon light slanted through the windows.

She pulled a tall glass from the cabinet, filled it with ice, and poured cool water over the cubes until they clinked.

Cradling the glass in her hand, she returned to find him standing by the couch, shoulders squared and watching her with a cautious tilt to his head.

Handing him the glass, she watched as he lifted it and took one long pull, the water sliding down his throat. He set the glass on the coffee table and met her gaze. “Please, sit. ”

Ava sank onto the sofa, smoothing her shirt. Deacon settled as well, though he left a small gap between them, an unspoken distance she wasn’t used to.

“Deacon,” she began, her voice gentle but determined, “I know moving in with you makes sense for both of us, but—”

He rose a single brow. “But what?”

“What does it mean? Are we simply roommates, or are we… more?”

Deacon leaned back, arms resting on the cushions. “That’s up to you.”

She shook her head. “No. It’s up to both of us. When we move in, I need to know where we stand, your social life will suffer if you want to date someone and Ellie and I are living there.”

His lips quirked into a wry smile. “What social life? I’m either at MDOL during the week or working my property on weekends.

I don’t date. I cancel more plans than I keep.

” He inhaled. “But with you… Ava, we have something. I know sex isn’t everything, but it’s a part of it, and damn, we’re good at that.

Maybe everything else will fall into place. ”

She studied his face, saw the genuine warmth there. A slow smile curved her lips. “I’d like to try.”

“Me too.”

She reached out, brushing her fingertips against his hand. “And hey, I never did taste those legendary burgers you keep talking about.”

He chuckled. “First place we’ll go after you move in with me.”

“Am I sleeping in the spare bedroom?” she teased softly .

He shrugged; eyes narrowed. “If that’s what you want. You can sleep wherever makes you happiest.”

Her pulse quickened. “What if that’s next to you?”

Deacon drew in a breath. “I’d love that. I think we could have something special, but I won’t pressure you.”

“What if I pressure you?”

Ava stood from the sofa and held out her hand. He took it, rising to his feet, and she led him down the hall to her bedroom. Light from the hallway spilled across the floorboards as she reached for the doorknob.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, voice hushed.

She paused, feeling the warmth of his palm against hers and the promise in his eyes. “Positive. It’s all I’ve thought about. We know this part is good, and we can build on that.”

“Absolutely,” he murmured.

Gently, she closed the door behind them, and the soft click of the latch felt like the opening of a new episode.

Deacon’s hands were already on her, rough and hungry, his fingers clawing at the hem of her shirt like he was starving for the taste of her skin.

She didn’t wait, either, her nails raked down his chest, then peeled off his shirt to reveal the hard, chiseled muscle beneath.

His abs flexed under her touch, and she moaned low in her throat, the sound vibrating against his lips as they crashed into hers.

Their kiss was a war, tongues tangling, lips bruising.

Deacon’s hands were everywhere, cupping her breasts through the thin fabric of her bra, gently squeezing until she gasped into his mouth.

She retaliated by yanking his belt open, the leather sliding free with a hiss, and her hand dove straight for his cock, already straining against the confines of his jeans.

He groaned, deep and guttural, as her fingers wrapped around his length, stroking him through the fabric, teasing him with the promise of what was to come.

“Fuck, Ava,” he growled, his voice rough with need.

He spun her around, pinning her against the wall, his hips grinding into her ass as he worked her jeans down her legs.

She kicked them off, her panties following in a flimsy scrap of lace that didn’t stand a chance.

His hands slid up her thighs, spreading her wide, and he groaned at the sight of her. He turned her to face him.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he muttered, his breath hot against her neck, then he dropped to his knees.

His tongue was on her in an instant, lapping at her slit like a man possessed.

Ava’s head fell back against the wall, her fingers tangling in his hair as she trembled.

His tongue flicked her clitoris, slow and deliberate, until she was gasping his name like a prayer.

“Deacon, please. I need you inside me,” she begged, her voice shaking with desperation. He stood, his cock springing free from his jeans, thick and throbbing. He quickly rolled on a condom, then grabbed her hips, lifting her effortlessly, and she wrapped her legs around his waist.

“Do you want me?” he growled; his eyes dark with lust. “Tell me. I need to hear it.”

“Please,” she whimpered, her nails digging into his shoulders. “Deacon. I want you so much. ”

He slammed into her in one brutal thrust, burying himself to the hilt.

Ava put her hand over her mouth and screamed, her walls clenching around him as he filled her completely.

He didn’t give her a second to adjust, he pulled out almost all the way before driving back in, setting a punishing pace that had her bouncing against the wall with every thrust. He leaned down to capture one nipple in his mouth, sucking as he fucked her hard against the wall.

“You feel so fucking good,” he groaned against her skin, his hips slamming into hers with a rhythm that was nothing short of primal. “So tight around me, Ava.”

“You feel so good too,” she gasped, her own orgasm building with every thrust. “Deacon, please.”

He growled, his thrusts becoming erratic as he neared the edge. Ava’s own climax hit her like a freight train, clamping down on his cock as she came hard, her screams muffled by his mouth on hers. He followed her over the edge, his cock pulsing as he came.

Deacon put his head on her shoulder and kissed her neck, then he turned, while holding her and walked to the bed where they collapsed onto it in a tangled heap of sweat, their bodies still trembling from the intensity of it.

“Damn, baby. It gets better every time.”

“Yes,” she breathed out, then she kissed his chest. “I think we have that part down pretty well.”

Deacon chuckled. “I agree.” He rolled to his back.

“I need a shower.”

“I could use one. ”

“Let me check on Ellie first. If she’s still asleep, we’ll grab a quick one.”

“Alright. I’ll be right here.”

Ava chuckled. “Okay.” She picked up his T-shirt, pulled it on, started toward the door, then looked back at him. “We can make this work, right?”

“Yes, we can.”

She nodded, then left the room. A few minutes later, she returned.

“She’s still asleep, let’s take a quick shower.” She smiled as Deacon got up from the bed, then entered the bathroom behind her.

“Alright, then I have to go. I’ll be back in a day or two.”

Ava smiled. She was sure they could make this work.