Chapter Ten

Jenna

The doorbell rang and I was so relaxed, so at peace eating with Deacon, like it was an everyday occurrence, that I actually jumped and dropped my fork in my dish.

I dabbed my mouth with my napkin and hopped off my bar stool where we sat at my kitchen counter.

"You expecting someone?" Deacon asked between bites.

"No," I answered honestly. "I don't know who this could be."

The doorbell rang again. "Hold onto your hat, I'm coming!" I shouted, as I threw open the door and then immediately regretted it when I saw who it was.

My stomach flipped and I thought I was going to throw up the delicious dinner Deacon cooked for us. The last person I wanted to deal with tonight was Michael's wife. "What are you doing here?" I spat.

She pursed her lips. "I thought you got the message at the hotel, but I must've been wrong. He's still getting texts from you."

I held my hands up, trying to show her I was no longer a threat to her or her marriage. "I don't know what you're talking about, but I haven't seen or talked to him since that morning."

"I don't believe you," she said through gritted teeth.

"How do you know where I live?" I demanded.

She curled her hair around her finger and rolled her eyes. "Michael doesn't tolerate stupidity, so how did he ever put up with you?"

"And we're done here," I said, and began closing the door on her, but she stuck her hand on the door, holding it firmly in place. "You're on private property and you need to leave. Now," I warned.

"Not so fast, skank," she said barging in like she owned the place.

"Excuse me. What the hell did you just call me?" Now she was just pissing me off. She had no right coming into my house, calling me names. Yes, I slept with her husband, but I had no idea he was married and I was a lot of things, but a skank wasn't one of them.

I wanted her to go away for many reasons, but mostly because I didn't want Deacon to hear any of this. "Why don't we talk about this outside?" I tried to push her out the door, but she was surprisingly strong.

"No, I don't think so." She eyed Deacon behind me. "Hello, handsome."

I smacked my forehead with my hand and ran a hand through my hair. "This is between you and me, so why don't we just keep him out of this, all right?"

She didn't acknowledge me, only pointed a finger in my face and started walking toward me, causing me to back up further. "You took my marriage and blew it to smithereens. I bet you do this all the time, it's probably your M.O. Catch the interest of a married man, get him to sleep with you, fall for you, and then screw everything up for their families. Is this one married, too?" she said, gesturing to Deacon.

I went to say something, but she just kept right on talking. "Michael told me he loves you, could you believe that? He's divorcing me, and still has illusions of the two of you getting back together. Well, it's going to be a cold day in hell when I give up that easily. So just know that every time you're with him, I'll be there, too. You'll never truly be alone because I'm not going anywhere."

That was a scary thought because she was obviously a raging lunatic and I wanted her the hell out of my house.

"What? Can't say anything, too much of a good girl to fight back? Yeah, that's right, I know all about you and that righteous family of yours. You must think you're better than me, than everyone. I hate people like you, who think they can get away with any and everything just because they walk around wearing Prada this and Prada that." She eyed me, giving me the up-down.

I couldn't help but chuckle, which only seemed to infuriate her more, but I didn't give two hoots. She was obviously off her rocker. "You don't know the first thing about me, sweetie, and if you think I can't fight back, you're sorely mistaken. See, I may have grown up in that world and I may have gone back to it, but for a second there I wasn't part of it, and I'm not the good girl you think I am. Also, your husband is the one who kept pursuing me, bitch." I added that last part because the smirk on her face when I was talking was making me want to deck her more and more by the second. Especially when she brought Deacon into it.

"What did you just call me?"

"You heard me, bitch ."

I knew I was egging her on, but I couldn't help it. She came into my house, throwing insults. Of course, I was going to fight back. I didn't see the next part coming, though. She raised her hand and slapped me right across my cheek. I nearly stumbled backward because I wasn't prepared for it.

I thought I heard Deacon say something, but I was so fired up, I couldn't see straight let alone hear him.

I fought the urge to bring my hand to my cheek, even though I really wanted to because it was stinging something fierce. I had something better to do, though. I lunged for her, and I was so close, too, but I suddenly felt strong arms come around my torso and carry me away from her. "Put me down!" I yelled, kicking and screaming, pissed that Deacon was stopping me from yanking those cheap hair extensions out of her head.

He just kept his hands wrapped around my waist, though, as she scoffed. She looked at Deacon and then turned back to me. "Tell me, is she really that great in bed?"

Before I could think to rip her throat out, Deacon intervened. "I was raised to not lay a hand on a lady, but I'm thinking you're not so much a lady. I think it's time you leave."

He clearly shocked the hell out of her because she swallowed hard and didn't say another word. She just fixed herself and turned around.

"Don't you ever come back here or I'll call the police."

"As long as I never see you again, never hear your name again, I'll be just fine. I have a marriage to repair anyway thanks to you." Then she turned to Deacon one last time and added, "I feel sorry for you, honey. You have no idea the woman you're in bed with. She's nothing but a cheating skank."

I growled and wrinkled my nose, still pissed. "Why don't you say that again to my face?"

I tried one last time to throw myself at her, but Deacon's grip was strong, too strong. "Get out of here," he warned.

She threw her fake hair behind her and stalked out my front door as if we didn't just almost tear each other to shreds.

Deacon put me down on my feet and followed behind her to close the door. "What the hell were you thinking, going to attack that woman?"

I rolled my eyes. "I was thinking she came into my house and called me a skank. And if that wasn't enough, she slapped me to boot." Remembering it, I put my hand to my cheek and felt the hot skin still tingling.

"You're bleeding," he said, and gently moved my hand to show me.

I blew outwardly, taking a deep breath I didn't know I was holding in. I was never one to fight so I had no idea where all that aggression came from, but I would never forget it anytime soon. "That's because of that stupid rock on her finger, probably just as fake as her hair."

He led me back to my stool by my elbow. "Let me clean that for you."

I nodded my agreement, still reeling from the whole exchange. That and the fact that I was going to have to explain what just happened here to Deacon, something I was more than a little ashamed to have to do. Michael made me the other woman and that still bothered me.

He walked from the room and came back with supplies. He unscrewed the lid on the hydrogen peroxide and laid a cotton swab on the top. "You ready to tell me what that was all about?" He looked down at the swab, where he was pouring the liquid.

Not really. "It's no big deal." Okay, that was definitely a lie.

"No big deal?" He shot me a look.

I sucked in as he placed the cold, wet swab on my cheek and held me steady, one hand on my arm, the other taking care of my cheek. "The sting should go away."

I looked at him and sighed. "I slept with her husband," I confessed, my eyes on him the whole time, but I couldn't read him.

His facial expression was unchanged, he didn't so much as twitch, just removed the swab from my cheek and pulled back the paper from a butterfly bandage before placing it lightly on my cheek.

Unsure if I should be encouraged or scared by his lack of reaction, I added, "Actually, we dated for a while," and waited.

He furrowed his brows, as he cleaned up. "And you didn't know he was married?"

Barely believing he'd say that to me, I hopped off the bar stool and walked in the living room. He didn't move from where he was to follow me, though, which was just as well because I was quickly getting annoyed.

I ran a hand through my hair and huffed. "Why do you always do that?" I shouted.

Coming closer, I could see he looked positively befuddled. "Think the best of me," I clarified.

"Princess, you're a bad ass, but you're also one of the sweetest people I've ever known. You wouldn't hurt a fly, let alone intentionally tear apart a marriage."

I stomped my foot on the floor, knowing he'd never fully get it. How could he? He only saw me as perfect, sweet little Jenna, the girl he knew all those years ago. But since we broke up I was floundering. Then when I finally thought I got my life together, he came back, knocking on my door, and then I lost our baby. I'd been a mess. Nothing was neat and tidy or even crystal clear in my life. It was quite likely that even if I had known Michael was married, I still would've been with him. I was no angel, and that was the point I was trying to make. That was part of the whole problem, that Deacon didn't really know me, so how could he want to be with me?

"What are you thinking?" he finally asked, interrupting my thoughts.

Voicing my concerns, I answered him with a question of my own. "How could you be so sure about me?"

He pulled me close, hands on my arms and looked into my eyes, then down at my chest, where he brought a hand to rest. "Because I know what's in here. You keep saying things have changed, we've changed, but I don't believe it. Leopards can't change their spots."

"What if I did know and did continue to sleep with him?"

He shook his head, getting prepared to work hard to convince me otherwise. "Never would've happened."

Softening, I put my head in my hands and shook my head. "You're right, I could never be a home-wrecker."

He smirked and chuckled, lifting my chin with his finger. "Told you."

Then, without thinking, I blurted out the one thing I never should have, the one thing that was only going to encourage him in his quest to get me back, a quest I wasn't so sure I wanted to keep resisting. Too bad I had to say it. "You have no idea how much I needed you all these years. You ground me, you make me feel better. I've missed you. I've missed who I am when I'm with you."

He didn't harp on it, though, just responded, "As nice as that is to hear, you don't really need me, princess. Never did. You're amazing all on your own."

"You're wrong. I do," I insisted.

He looked down at me, his eyes intense. He brushed my arms with his fingers, resting his hands on top of mine before gliding them off, pulling me closer. Lips parted, he leaned down and even though I wanted what was coming next, I knew it was for the best when we were interrupted by my phone.

"I should get that," I said, reluctantly turning away.

He shook his head. "I should be going anyway."

I nodded. "Probably best." Before I let him walk out, I said, "Thank you for dinner. It was exactly what I didn't know I needed."

"Good food?"

"Good company," I corrected.

All I could think as he walked out was that for the first time in a long time, I finally felt like my heart was full again, and I knew that was because the man who had taken half of it with him all those years ago was finally back. Only, I couldn't lose control around him. I needed to remember that this was about much more than my happiness. It was about protecting him.