Feel the Heat: A Contemporary Romance Anthology

His arms came around her tighter. “Babe.” He pressed his cheek to the top of her head. “How could you think that way?”


“It’s not all selfless. I’m just starting my business, too. But if there was a crappier time, then I don’t know when it could be. And then…just.” She curled into him tighter. “God, I’m scared,” she whispered into his skin. The reassuring warmth of him right there and she couldn’t hold on tight enough.

“Tell me.” His voice broke and he cleared his throat. “Does the idea of a child—our child—seem so out of the realm of possibility?”

“No.” She swallowed down the rocks that were currently residing in her throat. “No, Deacon. But nothing with us has ever been allowed to be planned. I met you and my entire world went into warp speed. I feel like I’m constantly running to catch up.”

“I—” He cleared his throat. “Do you feel like I’m forcing you to move faster than you want to?”

“Sometimes.” He stiffened in her arms. She held on when she felt him trying to retreat. “It’s just because you’re so sure all the time. You look at me with this complete calmness. I wish I knew how to find that as easily as you do.”

He drew back so he could look down at her. “Because you are my peace. It’s how it’s always been. And it’s something I’ve never had before in my life.” He tipped his head down until their foreheads touched. “Maybe that’s why I pushed so hard to get this ring on your finger.” He pulled up her left hand and set it against his chest, covering it with his left. “I couldn’t stand the thought of you not in my life forever.”

“You might have pushed for a quick wedding, but I wouldn’t have let you if I hadn’t wanted it too.” It was everything else on fast forward that made her uneasy. Sweet & Savory, her catering business, was doing well. Even with the advanced timetable, she and Annie were making something together. So much so, that she was honestly thinking about making Annie an offer to be a full partner instead of just her employee.

She was barely holding on to take care of herself and Deacon.

“What if I fuck it all up?”

“It’s not just you. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

If there were pictures in Wikipedia of strong, sure, capable men, Deacon would be top ten, easily. Hell, top five. But with Oblivion going on the road again within the next year, how would she be able to make it all work?

God, were the walls closing in?

She pulled away from him and rounded the island to the fridge. She pulled out the pitcher of water and opened doors. Glasses. Cups. Fucking juice glasses. Something.

Deacon came up behind her and covered her hand on the knob of the cupboard. He opened it again and pulled down two tall glasses. He gently eased the pitcher away from her and poured.

The rocks in her throat surely had to be suffocating her. Filling up her lungs. She took a deep breath, then another and swallowed more than half the glass. Rushing gulps that came out with a choke.

“I need to walk. I gotta get out of here. Outside.”

Deacon pulled open the storm shutters. Clouds had come in as they were talking. The sky was steel gray and ominous. Perfect. She didn’t want sun. She wanted the slap of the wind on her face. Without a word, she went for their duffel bag and unearthed her bulky fisherman’s sweater and shorts.

She paused, then pulled out one of Deacon’s sweatshirts. “Come with me?”

“Yes.”

She nodded. There had been too many words, hurtful and too truthful between them. As usual, Deacon seemed to know that now wasn’t the time to talk.

When she was dressed, he took her hand and led her out the back to the water. The roiling waves were churning with a storm to come. She didn’t bother with shoes. Needing the sand and the water on her skin, if only her toes.

With linked fingers, they walked. They passed houses and hotels, one of the many piers that reached out into the ocean and groaned under the force of the gales coming in. Some of them were stone, some weather-worn wood in all different shades. Seagulls squawked and cried out as they coasted on the updrafts.

Not a soul around them.

December was off season at the best of times in Galveston, but on a day like today there was no reason to visit the beach. She was glad for it. She didn’t want to exchange pleasant smiles with strangers. She didn’t want Deacon to have to fend off fans today.

“We should turn back,” Deacon said quietly.

Evelyn Adams, Christine Bell, Rhian Cahill, Mari Carr, Margo Bond Collins, Jennifer Dawson, Cathryn Fox, Allison Gatta, Molly McLain, Cari Quinn's books