Just a Taste (Private Relations 1)

Resisting the

urge, she said, “Hey, c’mon in. Let me go get my jacket.”

Stepping back, she motioned for him to come in and turned to grab her jacket and purse from the dining room. Deacon snagged her hand and said, “Hey. Come here for a minute. I’ve been dying to do this for days.”

Pulling her close, his lips brushed over hers, then clung for a moment.

Releasing her with a smile, he said, “Better.”

Looking around her living room, taking in the bright colors, he said, “This place feels like you.”

Walking over to grab her jacket and bag, she stopped to scratch Smitty’s ears before she left, saying, “No girls or loud parties while I’m gone.”

Laughing, Deacon said, “Is that typically a problem?”

Locking the front door, Sara smirked and said, “You’d be surprised. Wow. Nice car.”

A shiny black Audi TT Roadster sat behind her mini-cooper in the drive.

“So,” Sara asked him, “Are you planning on telling me where we’re going? Is this warm enough, do you think?” Sara gestured to her clothing.

Opening the passenger side door, Deacon appraised her once more and then cleared his throat, saying, “That should be good.”

She was really glad she had dressed pretty casually, too. She had ended up going with a green sweater with a pair of black skinny jeans. She’d paired it with her black, glittery flats. If the look in his eyes was any indication at all, he was pleased by her selection as well.

After helping her into the car and closing the door, Deacon walked around to his side of the car and got in. Starting the car, Deacon finally said, “So I was thinking we could go to the Santa Monica Pier. I didn’t want to do anything cliché, like dinner and a movie.”

Sara’s eyes lit, “Oh cool. I haven’t been there before. Now I can see why you said to dress warmly.”

Backing out of her driveway, his gaze briefly shifted to her, “You’ve never been there? Really?”

Laughing Sara said, “I’m a pale kid. What would I do at the beach?”

“They’ve got an amusement park down there, a bunch of shops and restaurants. Last time I was there, they even had a guy giving trapeze lessons. It’s an interesting place to people watch.”

“Sounds like it’ll be fun then.”

Sara was twisting her hands in her lap nervously when Deacon put his hand on hers and asked, “Everything okay?”

Sighing, pained to have to admit it, Sara said, “I’m ridiculously nervous for some reason. I don’t know why. It seems silly, based on”—Sara waved her hand in front of her—“everything.”

“Me too. You’re right. It is silly, but this feels important somehow.”

Deacon had his hand on the shifter now, so she reached over and squeezed his thigh, “Agreed.”

The silence stretched for a moment, until Sara finally asked, “So how did the rest of your week go?”

Laughing, Deacon told her about the expense reports. By 9:00 a.m. the next morning, there had been an influx of reimbursement checks along with notes of apology. He had laughed for pretty much the entirety of that morning.

“That’s pretty freaking funny. I wonder what they actually did with the stuff though…” Sara asked trailing off.

Frowning, Deacon said, “I’ve got no idea. What does a grown man do with fourteen rubber ducks?”

Laughing dryly, Sara said, “If you find out, please don’t tell me.”

Having effectively broken the ice, the remainder of the ride to the pier was spent in conversation about how the last few days had been since they’d seen one another.

When they arrived, and got out of the car, Sara’s eyes widened.