Chapter Five

Jenna

His eyes wide searched mine as he breathed my name and my heart skipped a beat.

"Deacon," I responded, my own voice barely above a whisper, too.

Unmoving, I stared back at him. There he was, right before my eyes. He looked a little older, a little tired, but underneath all that there was the man who captured my heart all those years ago.

Neither one of us moved, as if we were too afraid we might wake from a dream. Finally, I cleared my throat, a nervous habit of mine, and with shaking hands, I finally accepted the lipstick he was still holding out for me. I couldn't seem to find my voice, though, and I watched as his eyes peered down at my hands.

He suggested, "Do you want to sit down?" tilting his head to the swing bench on the patio.

I nodded my agreement and smiled to myself. So much had changed and yet that one question showed me just how much had stayed the same. Deke would forever try to calm me, be my rock.

Sitting in relative silence, except for the creaking of the old chains as we moved slowly back and forth, I just looked at him, taking all of him in—from his chiseled form to the bandage on his leg. I could feel him watching me, too, waiting, but we were trying to find our rhythm just like the swing.

To think, after all these years, all the time apart, here he was, sitting beside me as if no time had passed at all. I knew we were foolish to walk away from what we had, even if it was the right thing to do at the time, not that it made it any easier. In fact, it made it even more difficult.

I brushed my fingers along his cheek, trying to avoid the few cuts and bruises that were there and then down his strong jawline. He quirked a brow, but stayed still, letting me touch him. "It's really you," I said, dropping my hand to my lap, my eyes stinging with emotion.

His eyes were glued to me. "Funny, I thought the same thing."

I stayed quiet, taking it all in, letting my emotions wash over me. It was hard to fight them anymore. Tears rolled down my cheeks.

He brushed my hair behind my ears. "I've missed you. Do you know how many times I thought about you after I went back?"

I shook my head. I couldn't hear this. "Deke," I said, all but pleading with him.

He brushed the pad of his thumb on my cheeks and wiped away the tears. I closed my eyes, remembering how good it always felt when he touched me. "What are you doing here, Jenna?" he asked.

I sniffled and chuckled. If only he knew it was because of his mom I was here right now. Instead, I answered earnestly, "It felt like the right thing to do."

It was all in the way he was looking at me that was making my heart want to burst right out of my chest.

He nodded, his eyes searching mine for something else. "The right thing to do?" he questioned me. "That's the only reason?" he asked expectantly, as if he knew the answer.

I nodded and then changed my mind quickly, shaking my head. I ran my hands down my thigh, looking for a distraction. "I'm just glad you're home," I finally said. "I've missed you, too."

He tried to read me, his beautiful blue eyes looking from my eyes to my lips. Is he going to kiss me? Is it wrong if I really want him to?

I fidgeted, twisting my hands in my lap, not sure what to do with them. I really wanted to reach out and touch him again, but wouldn't dare allow myself.

Suddenly, he grabbed my wrist. "Nice ink," he complimented the tattoo on the inside of my wrist. "It's new?" he asked, knowing full well it wasn't there when we last slept together.

"In a manner of speaking," I said, anticipating what he was thinking—something along the lines of you still love me. Trying to hold him off before it got worse, I added, "Don't let it inflate your ego."

I could tell, though, it was too late for that, so I pushed away from him and stood.

His expression changed and he gave me a cocky grin. "Hey, you're the one who got a tattoo of a tiara."

I snickered. "I like tiaras, so what?"

"Bullshit."

I blew outwardly. "Leave it to you to think that after you left I got a tattoo as a reminder of what we once had." Of the nickname you once gave me was what I really wanted to say. Because it was true, that was why I got it.

He wiped a hand down his face and exhaled. "I didn't say all that, you did, and clearly it's true."

"Even if it is," I said, pausing in the middle. "It's in the past, Deke. What we once had ."

He grinned. "I'm home now. We could still have it."

"What?" Was he out of his mind? "You just got back!"

He chuckled. "So what? I'm not supposed to know what I want just because I just got back. How does that make sense?"

I paced, shaking my head. "None of this makes sense."

"Hey, you came here," he pointed out.

I threw my hands in the air. "Yeah, well maybe that was a mistake."

"It wasn't," he said in a matter-of-fact way. "Don't tell me you don't feel it. That spark we used to have, it's still there. It's always been there. When I left, the last time we slept together, and now," he said, giving voice to thoughts I was too afraid to.

Eyebrows raised, I acted appalled. "I thought you didn't have a head injury. Now I'm thinking you might."

He laughed. "I'm right as rain, princess. And that tattoo," he argued and pointed to my wrist, "has nothing to do with the fact that you wish you were a fairytale princess."

I picked my purse up and regained my composure. How dare he say things like that? Assume he knows what I'm thinking, feeling. Not that he was wrong, but still, the fact remained that we could never work. Not anymore. Could we? "I'm going to leave before you say something you won't be able to take back."

He got up, too. "I'm not going to take anything back."

"You just got home. This is wrong, it's all wrong." I rubbed my forehead and closed my eyes before finally turning around to leave.

We couldn't just pick up where we left off as if nothing changed. It'd been years, dammit, a lot had changed!

"You can't run from this, from me, princess." He knew that would piss me off and make me turn back around, but I wasn't going to prove him right, not this time. It wasn't going to work, I was walking away. That was until he shouted, "There's a reason you came today!"

That did it. I turned around, annoyed as could be and pointed a finger in his face as I said, "You are so infuriating, you know that?" Taking a deep breath, I ran my hands through my hair and tried again. "You can't just leave well enough alone, ever. No, you always have to upset the apple cart."

He cocked a brow. "Upset the apple cart?"

"Yeah, it's an expression."

"I know what it is, but what apple cart am I upsetting exactly?"

I let out a shriek. "My life! That's the apple cart. You're upsetting my life. Dammit, I was doing just fine without you. I was getting along just fine." I motioned to the house. "Coming here was a mistake."

He cupped a hand to his mouth, trying to stifle a laugh, then brought it down as he outlined his jaw with it. "I see you're still the same hot-head you always were. You can't stand it when someone else is right. But I have you all figured out. Always have."

I screeched. "You're exasperating."

"Convince me I'm wrong. Look me in the eyes and tell me you're not still in love with me."

No chance in hell I could do that honestly. "Then you'll let this go and leave me alone?" Somehow I sincerely doubted that, but it was worth a try.

He crossed his arms, his muscles straining at his forearms. He was built before, but now his arms were even more built and powerful. Deacon finally agreed, "I'll never bring it up again." He looked serious, but looking into his eyes I knew that he was finding this whole exchange amusing.

I responded, "Great!"

"Great," he repeated and waited for me to look him in the eyes and do as he asked.

I sighed, looked him in the eyes and there it was. I couldn't lie to him, not again. But I had to. Because if we did end up back together, I would have to tell him things I didn't want to.

"You can't do it, can you?" he pushed, raising an eyebrow.

I let out a "ha" and pursed my lips. "Please, I so can."

He waited.

I put a hand on my hip and channeled my inner actress. "I don't love you." There, I said it.

"It's not good to lie," he admonished, coming to stand right next to me. "You should try again."

I threw my hands up, frustrated. "What do you want me to say, Deke? That I've always loved you, probably always will. That no man will ever measure up to you. That the last time we were together I was nearly destroyed when you left again, even though I promised it'd be just the one night." I laid it all out there, and yet none of it changed anything, so I wasn't sure exactly what he wanted from me.

When he didn't speak, I added, "I've changed, Deke. I may still feel something for you, but I'm not the same woman you once knew. Time moved on without us. I'm not ready to go back to that place and you just got back."

"So you keep saying," he inserted.

"It's true. We can't pretend nothing changed because everything has." And he didn't even know the half of it, I mused.

But it was the way he stood there, just looking at me, at my lips that made me lick them and announce, "I have to go."

It's not like I didn't want him to kiss me, because I did. I just couldn't handle that, though, not now.

I turned on my heel and walked away, approaching my car. This time he didn't stop me, but he did shout, "That's all I needed to hear, princess, because I'm going to fight for you. For us."

I didn't respond. I didn't need to. Instead, I opened my car door and got in, noticing for the first time that Deke turned and walked away, too.

In the solace of my car, I laid my head back against the seat and closed my eyes, processing our exchange. It was nothing like I thought it'd be. And that promise from Deacon that he'd be fighting for me wasn't lost on me. Not by a long shot, but the truth was, he didn't have to fight for me because he already had me. All of me.

He always had.