"Mi amor, it's late. We should let John have his dinner," Manuel called to his wife.

"No!" Esteban yelled and I looked his way to see he'd had his face wedged in the sliver of an opening of the fridge door, the only thing he could get with Milagros and me standing in his way. "Ta Cassidy has lemon pie with that fluffy stuff on top."

I felt the awe leave Milagros as she set up to let loose on her son but she didn't get there in time.

Her husband did.

Thus ensued a wave of Spanish where I caught only a few words-all of them fatherly in a scary way-then I heard the fridge door close and watched an ten-year-old boy shuffle toward his father with head bowed.

"Lo siento, Cassidy," Manuel murmured.

"It's okay," I replied on a smile. Then I said to Esteban's back, "I'll save some for you."

"Thanks, Ta Cassidy," he muttered.

"Mis hijas!" Milagros shouted. "Nos vamos! ndele!"

Pandemonium ensued as the girls rushed in from the porch. They didn't bother attempting to take turns with giving me a hug, they pretty much collided with me, squeezed me, and dashed out, waving perfunctorily at Deacon (with Silvia, I noticed, avoiding his hot guy eyes in a sweet, shy girl way). Esteban and Gerardo didn't bother with hugs, they just shouted their farewells, Gerardo giving cute waves, and raced after their sisters.

"We should have called," Manuel said as I heard the front door being opened.

"You're welcome here anytime," I replied, moving his way. "You know that."

His eyes slid to Deacon. They were not questioning, they were assessing.

I felt Milagros come up to my side. "We must have you to dinner. Are you here long?"

It took effort not to whoop with glee when Deacon answered, "Got a break. I'll be here three, four weeks."

"Then we'll have time," Milagros stated, holding out a hand. "Good to meet you."

"Same," Deacon replied, taking her hand and clasping it before letting it go.

"We'll see each other again," Manuel said, offering his own hand.

Deacon took it and replied, "Look forward to it."

I gave Manuel a kiss on the cheek, same to Milagros with a hug, and we walked them to the door.

We stood in its frame as Milagros and Manuel corralled their kids, who were cavorting on the front porch, and got them in their SUV.

We continued to stand there, me waving, as they drove toward the cabins in order to turn around.

We did not wait for them to drive back down the lane. Deacon moved me in, shut the door, locked it, and looked down at me.

"You got lemon meringue pie?" he asked.

I grinned. "Yep."

"You can have the sundae. I'll have pie."

He'd have pie.

He'd have pie.

I didn't know how to express how happy that made me, and I didn't want to because if I did, he'd probably think I was crazy.

Instead, taking a page out of his book, I shared what I needed to say by leaning so far in to him, I was giving him most of my weight, doing it tipping my head back and smiling at him.

He took my weight and supported it by rounding me with his arms.

He also dipped his face closer to mine, doing this while taking in my smile, before saying, "Plans changed. Fuck then you feed me."

That caused a tingle.

"I'm down with that," I whispered.

Deacon grinned.

Then he dipped his head further and kissed me.

After that, he lifted me in his arms and carried me to bed.

Much later, draped part on, partly down Deacon's side, my cheek to his chest, as I heard his breath start to even out telling me he was close to sleep, I whispered into the dark, "Did you like the pie?"

I got no words, but the arm he had curved around me squeezed me tight.

He liked the pie.

I smiled against his chest, tightened my arm draped over his stomach, and kept whispering.

"I'm glad you're back."

His body tensed for a moment before it relaxed and he murmured, "Sleep, baby."

I sighed.

Then I said, "'Kay. 'Night, Deacon."

"'Night, Cassie."

I smiled again against his chest.

Then I closed my eyes.

Chapter Nine.

Eleven.

The next day, I was walking through Home Depot, trying not to let my head explode.

This was because I had been shopping in the garden center. I'd been grabbing plastic trays of flowers that I was going to plant in my window boxes and planters and I was doing this babbling my grand plans of bringing floral beauty to Glacier Lily. At the same time I was hoping out loud that we didn't get a late spring snow which would mean I'd waste hundreds of dollars since all the plants would die and I'd have to do it again (something that had happened once before and it didn't make me happy).

Eventually, I turned from selecting plants and jabbering and found Deacon, who'd come with me, had disappeared.

I was talking to no one.

The mini-welcome home party the night before had gone great. It was simple: sex, then Deacon eating reheated meatloaf and mashed potatoes, then more sex, and finally Deacon crashing because he not only drove to get to me without eating, he'd done it without sleeping, and this had taken two days. This last had alarmed me, but then again, he was a thirty-eight-year-old man. He might need a woman, but he didn't need a mother. Therefore, I kept my mouth shut.

The party continued in the morning with more sex then bacon, eggs, and toast upon which I told Deacon that day's agenda included me hitting Home Depot in preparation for bringing floral beauty to Glacier Lily.

Deacon had grinned (score two of the morning, score one being a nearly-upon-waking orgasm). Then he'd said he'd come with me (score three).

I had happy, hopeful visions of shopping with Deacon (something I looked forward to in a way that might seem weird to some, but being alone for years, it was not weird to me), coming home, and Deacon helping me with the flowers.

This had a dual purpose. That being me getting the flowers planted faster, thus having some downtime to be with Deacon, and also working alongside Deacon. I had hope, what with his comments about Grant being lazy, that he was not. That his assertion that if things worked out between us and he would be eighty and sitting next to me in an Adirondack chair meant he didn't intend to spend the next forty-two years having me cook, clean, take care of the cabins, and him doing...whatever it was he did until he quit doing it and ended up doing nothing.

Essentially, I knew it was his day off. Or at least it was his downtime after being at it twenty-four fuckin' seven for over a month.

But I still believed that working together could be fun. And if not fun, at least it was together and that in itself was good.

I continued to score through the morning with another orgasm Deacon gave me during the shower we took together and earning another grin when I was ready about five minutes after he was whereupon I announced as much.

"You're ready?" he asked, not hiding the surprise in his voice, leaning a shoulder against the doorway to my bedroom where he was standing.

"Yep," I replied.

"No makeup?"

Suddenly, I was uncertain if I was ready.

"Do I need makeup?" I asked.

"No."

That came quick and firm, so I relaxed. "Then I'm ready."

"Your hair isn't dry," Deacon pointed out.

"We aren't in one hundred percent humidity, Deacon Deacon." His lips started curving up at my response and I kept at it. "The mountains are arid. It'll dry in no time."

"So it dries as beautiful as it is with you doin' shit to it?"

The warmth only Deacon could give me by being his brand of sweet came back. It felt good. So I just nodded.

That was when I got the grin before he said, "Then let's go, Cassie."

All went well from there. Me being back in his Suburban. Deacon swinging into the Mexican Jumping Bean without my even asking. Deacon being relaxed and calm while driving, even when some guy cut him off to take a right turn, this making Deacon brake when he wouldn't have had to if the guy wasn't being a jerk.

Now all wasn't well.

Now I'd had to leave my trolley with my carefully selected trays of flowers and spiky and tailing plants that would so work with my vision of floral beauty at Glacier Lily in the garden center because I had no idea where my man was and the big flat trolley I had was too unwieldy to shove through the store.

Someone was going to snatch my plants, I knew it.

And where could Deacon be? I'd looked through all the aisles in the garden center (three times).

He was just gone.

I'd called his number, but he didn't answer (as usual).

Hurrying through the humongous store, then going through the back aisles and doing it again, I saw him standing at the far back looking at ladders.

Ladders.

What the heck?

"Dea...Priest," I called.

He looked to me but said nothing.

I stopped two feet away. "You left me in the garden center," I informed him of information he well knew.

"Need a ladder," he replied.

I stared at him, looked to the ladders, then looked to him again. "I have a ladder."

"Not tall enough," he stated.

I felt my brows draw together. "For what?"

"Gotta clean your gutters," he declared. "May have to replace some of 'em. Ladder in your shed won't reach."

"I don't need to clean my gutters. I have evergreens all around my house."

He turned fully to me. "They drop needles, woman. And you got aspens, some of 'em tall, not to mention those three big birches at the front of your house and the elms close to the river." I was having difficulty processing Deacon's knowledge of my trees as he kept talking. "Rain last night was fallin' over the sides, not goin' where it's supposed to go. This means the gutters are probably caked."

I'd noticed that but it hadn't occurred to me my gutters needed cleaned, mostly because I liked that fall of rain. Of course, not when it was pouring down, then that heavy fall kind of freaked me out.