The Doctor Who Has No Chance (Soulless 11)

Softness entered Deacon’s eyes. “I appreciate that, but it’s the other way around.”

Seventeen

Sicily

Life had been miserable for a long time, and then suddenly, it was good.

But the weirdest thing of all was that it felt like it’d always been good. Like things had never gone to shit, like Dex had never hurt me, had never been married. It was like the past didn’t happen at all.

I finally had the life I always wanted.

We spent the week working together, making out on his couch over lunch, banging it out on his desk before we left the office—even though we were going to his place directly afterward—and just existed in this wonderful bliss.

We went to his parents’ place that weekend, spending time with his nephews and Lizzie.

Dex had one boy in each arm as he leaned back on the couch, looking between them. “Geez, you guys get heavier and heavier every time I pick you up.” He looked at his eldest nephew. “You weigh as much as a hippo, Little Deacon.”

His nephew giggled.

“You guys could totally beat up your dad if you wanted to.” Dex looked back and forth between them, never happier than when he was with his family, and me, of course. “And you totally should. That would be hilarious.”

I sat beside him and watched him juggle the two kids with no effort. They might be small, but a kid on each arm was quite a bit. Lizzie was on the other couch with Deacon, the two of them working on her homework.

Cleo sat beside me, holding a glass of wine. “He’s great with kids, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, he really is.” He was a natural at it.

She sipped her wine as she watched her son, her eyes crinkled with subtle happiness.

“So, how’s preschool?” Dex asked Little Deacon. “I hope you aren’t beating up the kids on the playground—” he turned to look at his dad “—like your grandpa over there…”

Deacon turned to him and glared.

Lizzie laughed.

Little Deacon played with a plane in his hands, spinning it around and occasionally biting. “No,” he said with a chuckle. “We learned to swim,”

“Wow,” Dex said. “That’s great, kid.”

I turned to Cleo. “That’s a super-advanced three-year-old.”

She chuckled. “You should have seen Derek when he was five. That kid was building models and holding deep and complex conversations with me like he was an adult. Emerson is gonna be singled out when she gets older.”

“You want one?” Dex helped Little Deacon stand up so he could walk to me. “Go to Auntie Sicily.”

My heart jumped into my throat at the title as I held my hands out to him.

He walked right up and sat beside me. “Auntie Sic-sicily.” He continued to play with the plane. “Funny name.”

“I know, huh?” I said, rubbing his back.

Dex leaned back and lifted Cam into the air, making him giggle, and then slowly brought him back down again before he wiggled him in the air. “Man, I feel like I’m pumping iron at the gym. One…two…three….”

“I’m pretty lucky, huh?” Cleo said. “I’ve got three beautiful grandchildren…and I’m sure I’ll have many more.” Her hand moved into Little Deacon’s hair, and she ran her fingers through it, which was thick and a little long, like Derek’s. Because he looked so much like Derek, he also looked just like Deacon, his namesake. “And in case it wasn’t obvious, Dex would be a really great father.”

I looked at Little Deacon beside me, looking into those intelligent eyes and kind soul, imagining looking at my own son someday, a boy with Dex’s light-brown hair, brown eyes, and his heart. “Yeah, I know.”

“Man, those kids are so cute they make me sick.” He pulled out his keys and unlocked the door.

“Make you sick?” I asked incredulously.

“Yeah, yuck.” He made a disgusted face and rubbed his stomach. “I gotta throw up.”

I chuckled and set my bag on the counter. “You think your parents will survive with three kids overnight?”

“Psh, Lizzie is pretty much an adult, and those kids are so easy. They’re quiet like Derek. Plus, they already did the three-kid thing.”

“That’s true.”

“You want to watch TV or go straight to bed?” Dex left his wallet and keys on the table, his hair a little messy because Cam had played with it for a while.

“How about both?”

“That’s a good idea, baby.” He smacked my ass before he walked into the bedroom, taking off his shirt as he went, showing his ripped back, his lats, his shoulders, a collage of chiseled muscle.

I followed him into the bedroom, watching him drop his jeans and kick off his shoes until he was in just his boxers. His tight ass stretched the cotton of his boxers, but a moment later, he was down to bare skin because he dropped those too.

He got into bed, moved to the center of the mattress, and then propped himself up on some pillows so he was slightly elevated, his legs sprawled out, taking up most of the bed like he was the king and it was his throne. Then his eyes moved to me, telling me exactly what he wanted with just his hard gaze.