“Can you tell me the difference between Deacon and John Priest?”
There was a moment’s pause before he replied, “Handful of people know me as Deacon.”
He said no more so I looked to him and used the word, “Okay,” as a prompt.
He again glanced at me then back to the road before he went on.
“Every one of them I trust with my life. Every one of them I’d trust with your life.” He paused before he asked, “Do you get that, Cassidy?”
I got it. I liked it. Even if it was slightly scary, it was also kind of sweet.
“Yes,” I answered.
He said nothing further but I decided it was time to get down to it.
That said, I didn’t particularly want to get down to it, but it was time.
So I asked (though I did it cautiously), “Are you a criminal?”
He didn’t hesitate with his answer.
“I don’t pay taxes.”
I felt my head give a slight jerk at this informatively uninformative (but still scary) response.
“Sorry?”
“I have work. I make money. I get paid in cash. And the government does not know I exist.”
Yep. I didn’t want to get down to it.
Still, we were here and he was answering so I kept at it.
“And is what you do for cash illegal?”
He kept his eyes to the road even as he reached for his coffee. I watched him take a sip, return it to the cup holder, and then he again spoke.
This time his tone was gentle even if the words were not.
“I’ll tell you this, if you knew from start to now about what I do, how it began, why I do it, and you had a problem with it, I’d think straight up you’re a judgmental bitch. Then I’d walk out the door and you’d never see me again.”
At that, I did a slow blink.
But he wasn’t finished.
“I’m good at what I do. There’s a reason I do it. I believe in that reason. But that doesn’t mean I’m not a part of a world that will never—if I become a part of your life in a way that’s lasting, it’s important you hear this, woman—it will not ever touch you.”
“I’m not sure any of that makes sense,” I said softly, saying that instead of saying that he was speaking but he wasn’t really giving me anything.
“It does to me and that’s all you need to know.”
That was not gentle, but firm and unyielding.
In other words, he didn’t intend to give me anything.
“That’s the part that makes the least sense,” I returned, still talking quietly.
“That’s the part where you have to take a leap of faith with this, believe in what you felt when you made your choice yesterday, that bein’ believin’ in me.”
“I barely know you,” I pointed out.
“You barely knew me and you brought me pie,” he returned.
I sucked in a sharp breath.
Again with the pie.
Man, seriously. It sucked that he knew the significance of that pie.
“You barely knew me and you got naked on that table for me,” he kept going.
I looked back through the windshield, and before taking another sip, muttered, “You’ve made your point, Deacon.”
“Not sure I have.”
Now he was talking quietly, his tone so changed, my gaze went back to him.
He must have felt my eyes because he kept going.
“All of this is your choice.”
“I know it is,” I replied.
“Any time, you can go back on that choice.”
I sucked my lips between my teeth, not liking that idea and finding that I kind of wanted Deacon to go back to nonverbal communication.
Or silence.
“You change your mind,” he carried on, “I won’t like it, but I’ll submit to it.”
“That feels sweet at the same time not so much,” I admitted.
“Yeah,” he muttered to the windshield, again speaking like he was talking to himself. “Your world, a man gets hold of you, he’s a fool, he lets go.”
His words made me pull in a soft breath.
He looked to me and finished, “I don’t live in your world.” Then his eyes went back to the road.
I knew this but having it confirmed, waking up tucked to his back, being in his Suburban, it hit me with a clarity it never had before because I’d accepted him in my life. A man who existed most of his time in a world I’d never share, and I had a feeling I wouldn’t want to, but even if I did, he wouldn’t let me (which made me know I was right about that feeling).
And that clarity was what that would mean to me, not just right then, but if it happened that he became a bigger part of my life, my world, like he’d mentioned frequently.
If he became my man.
If, when he was with me, he was at my side.
If he met my friends. My family.
If the time came where life needed to be lived.
Commitment.
Babies.
This made me ask, “Forever and ever?”