But I held it in, just like she asked.

“I am going to take care of you,” she said. “I want to take care of you. And when you’re feeling better, we can talk. But until then, just try to relax and get better. If there’s anything you need, tell me. Otherwise, let’s just be who we were and get you on the mend.”

“Okay,” I said and tried to smile. She smiled back, and a single tear fell down her cheek.

I would wait until she thought I was ready, but I wouldn’t wait one second longer than that.

28

REBECCA

Taking care of Deacon over the next couple of days was exactly what I felt like I wanted. Two days of essentially playing house, albeit with a roommate who occasionally dipped in after five in the evening and watched television. I missed the tattoo parlor and my budding career there, but aside from that, I didn’t miss anything else. I didn’t have pets or houseplants, so the only things at my house were my stuff. I didn’t tend to miss very many inanimate objects.

The first full evening of being in the house, Everett came home, and I went over to my place to gather some things I might need. A duffel bag of makeup and bathroom stuff, a suitcase of clothes, and another large duffel and backpack with other things I might want around. I tossed the things in the fridge that might go bad or already had and headed back over, fully capable of spending however long I needed to with Deacon.

Or however long he wanted me to.

I loved helping him, and spending time with him was as good as it had been at my place, even with him unable to do much. The drugs only made him loopy for an hour or so during the day, but once he got to eat, he was better. After that, we were able to talk and hang out together, and I was playing the role of housewife with a glee I never really expected to actually feel.

Sure, I knew my mother loved being a wife and mother, and I long held that I would too. But I had my doubts. I loved being independent. I loved the career I was just starting to build in the tattoo parlor. Expressing myself through drawings and eventually through tattoos was gratifying and something I absolutely would not stop doing. But I could be a tattoo artist part-time. I could make my own schedule with that.

One thing was for certain: I most certainly did not miss the diner.

I called and told them that I was taking a week off. I didn’t ask, just informed them that I was going to be gone for the week and that I would call them at the end of it to let them know my status. If they fired me at that point, I would just have to make it work. I still had some savings from the life insurance policies my parents made and could figure it out until the tattoo business picked up.

Or maybe something else would work out. I still didn’t know.

I told Deacon not to talk about the things I told him or our current situation until he was no longer on the medications he needed. That meant he had some time, and it gave me some time to just settle into the bliss of the moment, avoiding thinking about how it might all end soon. If it was going to end, I wanted to enjoy what we had while I had it.

The third night of being there, I knew I didn’t ever want to go back. Not to my old house, not to the diner, nothing. If I could occasionally go to the grocery store and tattoo parlor, that would be all I would need. The cabin in the woods was gorgeous, even if Deacon kept mentioning projects that he had in his mind, ones he wanted to fix. It was a slice of heaven cut out of the mountains, and I enjoyed going out onto the porch to get some fresh air and watch the sun set over the horizon, purple mountains in the distance, while I sipped coffee.

When I finished my coffee that night, I went to the sink and washed out the mug, setting it in the drainer and going back into the living room. Deacon was sitting on the couch, but the recliner had been pulled in, and his feet were on the floor. He smiled at me and stood up very gently.

“I thought you were going to wait until Everett got back,” I said.

“He’s out for the night,” Deacon said. “Had to go down to the capital to file some paperwork I may or may not have forgotten about.”

“Oh. So, he’s staying in Nashville tonight?”

Tags: Natasha L. Black Romance
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