“These cabins…” I paused, took a breath and explained, “These cabins mean a lot to me, honey. I’ve put everything into these cabins. I love these cabins.”
“Right,” he muttered, his eyes shuttering.
“But,” I went on swiftly, “I don’t know what the future will bring. To me we’re not good, we’re great. I love having you here. It’s making me happy. It’s making you happy. So when that time comes where we know we’re solid and you’ve left that life, then we can talk about your buy-in. But now it’s too soon and I need shingles.”
“Then you pay for the shingles, Cassidy, but I pay for groceries while I’m here. What you eat, what I eat, all of it. My way of kickin’ in, it’s important to me to do that so you let me have that and don’t bitch or fight me.”
And there was more proof.
Badasses could compromise.
My heart swelled as I told him, “I can do that.”
He held my eyes. “You sure?”
It was then I saw his weren’t shuttered anymore. They were lit.
He was teasing.
God, I loved it when Deacon teased. No way I would ever have guessed he would tease when I knew him only as John Priest.
But I loved it that he did.
“It might cause debilitating pain, but I’ll deal with it,” I teased back.
“And she gives me the smartass.”
“As I said, it’s who I am.”
His voice was sweet when he said, “Yeah.”
He liked who I was.
I returned that sentiment.
I told him that in his language by moving to him, putting a hand on his abs, rolling up on my toes to get close, and saying, “Let’s get shingles.”
*
Two days later, I was in the kitchen getting Deacon, who was hammering on my roof in the hot sun, a cool drink when I heard a knock at my door.
I set the glass of ice water aside and moved to the front door, opening it to find my new renter there looking unhappy.
This was not a surprise.
I’d left Deacon on the roof so I could hang out in the house and wait for him and his family because I knew they were checking in that day. They checked in and he was surly when they did. No one was surly when they were checking in to fabulous cabins by a river in the Colorado Mountains. No one except someone who was always surly.
“Hello, Mr. Snyder, how can I help you?”
“This is unacceptable.”
Wonderful.
“What’s unacceptable?” I asked,
“There are no towels,” he answered.
I nodded my head in confirmation, explaining, “It states clearly in my terms and conditions, which you’re asked to click on prior to booking, that I don’t provide towels.”
“No one reads terms and conditions,” he retorted.
What an idiot.
“I’m sorry if you didn’t, Mr. Snyder, but it’s spelled out there. I also note the same in the cabin descriptions on my website, which you booked through.”
“I just looked at the pictures,” he told me. “And now I have a wife, two kids, myself, a week in that cabin, and no towels. What are we supposed to do when we take showers?”
“This has happened before, of course, so I have towels you can rent for the week.”
His brows shot up. “Rent? For extra?”
“Yes, five dollars a towel.”
“We’ll each need more than one, being here a week.”
“I have several, but it’s still five dollars a towel.”
“That’s outrageous,” he snapped.
It absolutely wasn’t.
“I’m sorry you feel that way. But there’s a store in town that carries linens. They have towels.”
“So I spend ridiculous money on towels I don’t need at home?” he asked.
“I’m not sure what to tell you. You accepted the terms when you booked. You can rent towels or you can go to town and buy them. Either way, it’s worth a trip into town. There are a couple of lovely stores, a fantastic coffee shop, and a few good restaurants.”
“I didn’t come up here for you to play tour guide,” he bit out nastily.
That was when I felt it. I felt it before I saw it.
So my eyes moved beyond Mr. Snyder at my door to the porch steps to see Deacon standing one down from the top, his arms crossed on his wide chest, the ends of his hair wet with sweat from the work he was doing, looking gorgeous and scary.
“We got a problem here?” he asked and Snyder turned to him.
“Who are you?” he demanded to know.
“I’m Ms. Swallow’s man,” Deacon answered. “Now, do we have a problem here?”
“There are no towels at the cabin, which is unacceptable.”
Deacon looked to me.
“I explained the terms and conditions, which Mr. Snyder accepted,” I told him.
Deacon looked back to Mr. Snyder but said not a word.
“If I don’t get towels for my family,” Snyder looked to me, “for free,” he looked back to Deacon, “we’ll check out and check into a hotel that provides towels.”
Deacon watched him speak then his eyes returned to me.
“You’re welcome to do that but a cancellation at this late date will mean I’ll still charge you for the entire stay.” Snyder’s eyes sliced to me and they were pissed. “Which is also explained in my terms and conditions,” I finished.