Chapter Six

Deacon

Seeing Jenna yesterday was exactly what I didn't know I needed.

She had always been poised, proper, and polished, but yesterday I could tell she was barely holding it together. It made me feel damn good to think that I still had that kind of effect on her.

Although, there was no arguing with her when she said time had changed us both. I knew I had changed. It's hard to go off and not come back a different man.

None of that shit mattered, though, not when it came to Jenna and I. There was never anything that could keep us apart, so this wasn't going to be any different. And I could tell Jenna wanted to give things another go, too. She wanted me. Something was holding her back, though. I just wasn't sure what it was, but I knew one thing for damn sure—I was going to break down her walls.

When I came back I promised myself I'd move on with my life, start the next chapter, and there was no reason to delay it. I knew what I wanted, now I just had to show that to Jenna, make her believe we stood a chance again.

Prepared for whatever that entailed, I walked downstairs, feeling like a kid again in my parents' house. Rounding the stairs to the bottom landing, I nearly tripped and looked down to see the offending obstruction—suitcases. "Shit!" I cursed to no one but myself, not noticing them until it was too late.

I walked into the kitchen and surveyed the situation. Mom was at the sink and Dad was at the counter, looking over the newspaper. Neither seemed to notice me.

"Morning."

Mom turned around first. "I thought we wouldn't see you until later."

"It's a new day and I'm looking forward to starting it," I admitted without elaborating.

"I'm glad to hear it because your father and I have news," she began, switching from washing to drying the dishes.

I watched her closely, but turned to Dad when I noticed she did the same.

Dad finally looked up, took his reading glasses off, and asked, "If your mother and I leave now, are you going to be okay?"

"Of course, I'm a grown man. I'm doing fine, if that's what you're asking," I said, getting right to the heart of it.

He nodded. "Very well."

Mom put the towel down and came to stand next to me at the kitchen table. "Your grandmother has taken a little spill. She's okay, but has a broken shoulder, so she's going to need some help and your father and I decided to stay with her while she recuperates, but only if you're okay with it."

Shit, so they were going to North Carolina. That bought me a little time. I'd be able to stay here without their constant presence, spend time with Jenna, and maybe even have time to find a place of my own. I was sorry for Granny, but I couldn't deny how relieved I suddenly felt. "I think that's a nice thing to do. I have no problem with it, either. As I told Dad, I'm a grown man, I'll be fine."

"I'm glad to hear you're in a good frame of mind," Dad said, making me feel like shit all over again. But I was used to that with him, so I let it roll off my back.

In the corner of my eye I noticed Mom smirking, but she said nothing and instead lifted her coffee mug to her lips.

I wanted to ask her what she had on her mind, but I knew better than to do that in front of Dad, so I held back. "Thanks. I hope Granny gets better soon."

Mom nodded. "Me, too. I'll tell her you send along your love and well wishes for a speedy recovery."

Dad interjected, saying, "Then there's no reason for us to wait to move out until tonight. We can leave this morning. Everything's packed. All we have to do is get on the road."

Mom nodded her agreement. "I'm all ready and prefer driving with the sun up anyway. I'll just be a few minutes, Jay," she said to my Dad.

"Let me help you with your suitcases," I offered and walked from the room.

Less than thirty minutes later, I had their bags safely in their trunk and the house to myself. Dad was at the wheel and Mom was on her way out, purse in-hand. I kissed her on the cheek and promised her I'd be fine.

Inside, I walked to the kitchen and tossed Dad's newspaper in the trash. I never read the damn thing and by the time he returned, it'd be the definition of old news. Everything else appeared to be in order and cleaned up, Mom having done what she does best when I was moving their luggage. Except a lone piece of paper sat propped up against the faucet at the kitchen sink.

I walked over and picked it up, wondering what she could've possibly left behind. It had an address in a residential area of Miami.

Damn, Mom was good.

It became very apparent this was what had Mom smirking before. She really did always know what her sons needed, I mused. I'd have to call her to say thank later, but right now I had something else I needed to do.

* * *

I rang the doorbell once and waited. Nothing. Her car was parked outside, so I knew she was home. I rang it again, this time knocking, too. "Just a minute," I heard Jenna shout.

She was out of breath when she flung the door open, standing there on one foot in a red high heel, the other barefoot, crossed over her knee. She was holding the other heel in her hand. "What time is it?" she asked me, as she left the door open and put her other heel on.

"Just after ten, why?"

"Damn," she muttered. A hand flew to her neck and she cursed again. "Where is it?"

"Where is it what?"

I closed the door and watched as she raced past me. "Woah, stop right there," I cautioned, "you're going to trip in those things."

"Can't stop."

She was obviously late for something, what I wasn't sure. She bolted upstairs and was just as quickly back downstairs, running to the kitchen counter to swipe a black purse off it.

I walked behind her and laid my hands on her shoulders, massaging the kinks out as best I could. "Breathe," I insisted.

She began to relax at my touch, her body going limp.

"Does that feel better?"

Jenna nodded. "Much." Taking a deep breath, she passed me a necklace and asked me to put it on her. It was a pearl necklace and matched the pearls she had in her hair, against the tight, serious knot she wore.

I obliged and breathed in her floral scent. It was almost surreal to be sharing space with her again.

When she finally turned around and took a second to take in the fact that I was standing in her kitchen, I was finally able to revel in the beautiful woman Jenna had become. She was wearing makeup, a black and beige shirt with a bow in the middle, a sexy black pencil skirt that hugged her in all the right places, and red heels.

"Want to tell me what has you racing around the house?"

She smiled. "Want to tell me what you're doing in my house?"

"You let me in."

Jenna shot me a look. "You know that's not what I mean."

"I told you yesterday, princess, I'm going to fight for you. And that kind of requires me seeing you to do that."

She tilted her head. "You were serious about that?"

I cocked a brow. "I'm nothing if not a man of my word."

Jenna sighed, touching the side of hair. "Look, that's really sweet and all, but my life is crazy right now. I'm always busy."

"We'll have to change that."

"You know, you can't just pencil being fought for in on my calendar."

When I didn't say anything back, she looked past me to the door. "If you'll excuse me, I really should be going. I'm late as it is. I have a full day, first a visit with my mother who is expecting me and then a client meeting for work."

I crossed my arms and leaned against her counter. "Your mom's still ordering you around?"

That made her expression soften, almost like a balloon deflating. "Please, she hasn't changed one bit," she admitted.

"I thought age mellows people."

"Not my mother. She's never changing."

"What kind of client meeting?"

"You know I'm a lawyer, right?"

I nodded. "I'd heard."

"That kind of client meeting. The kind where I have to close the deal and sign the client. It's important for the firm."

"But it's not for a while?" I wagered the meeting with her mother was where most of her time would be spent today, but bit my tongue.

She adjusted the strap on her purse. "Not until this afternoon. Why?"

"I think it's the perfect time for a little fun, then. If you have nothing on your calendar, then you can, right?"

She smirked. "Wrong. I just told you I had to meet my mother."

I shrugged, spinning my keys on my finger, hoping she'd give in. "Skip it."

"What? No. What didn't you understand about my mother needing to see me?" She shook her head and began walking to the door. "Come on, you're going to make me even more late and give her a coronary."

I followed her out and closed the door behind us when a loud gasp escaped Jenna that had me whipping my head around.

"No way!" She pointed at my motorcycle while holding a hand over her mouth with her other hand. "Deke." The way she said my name sounded the way a kids does on Christmas morning opening their presents. She continued, "There's no way!"

"You said that already," I teased.

She looked to the side of her now where I was standing, staring at her and then back at the motorcycle. "Is this the fun you had in mind?"

I nodded. "Although, you're a busy woman, so," I said, letting my words fall off.

Jenna rested a hand on my arm, her hand squeezing my leather jacket. "I feel like I've gone through a time warp or something. I haven't seen this since we were eighteen."

We walked toward it and she touched a hand to the seat.

"Best birthday present I ever bought myself."

"You worked hard enough to earn it," she remembered. "I swore it was a deathtrap."

I laughed. "But you came around."

When I treated myself to my motorcycle, I was young, reckless, and in love. It felt so good, so freeing to ride it, and all I wanted to do was ride it with Jenna. She was adamant at first, but eventually gave in and it became our favorite way to get around.

"I can't believe you still have it," she gushed, suddenly less concerned with meeting her mother, which wasn't lost on me.

I could not give this damn thing up. I almost did after my first tour. I told my mom I didn't want it anymore, that she could get it out of her garage and make some room in there for other crap. She wouldn't hear of it, however, arguing I'd want it one day. Turned out, she was right. "It's a piece of me," I said, wanting to add just like she was, but I thought better of it. It was too soon for that.

I found it in the garage yesterday and gave it a spin. It felt great to be back on it, to feel the wind on my face. It brought me right back, quite the same as it was currently doing with Jenna.

Back then, I worked double shifts at a local Italian restaurant just to save up enough to buy it. That was, until my grandmother gave me the rest of what I needed for my eighteenth birthday. I couldn't stop at just having a Harley-Davidson, though. No, it had to be the coolest ride around, so I treated myself to the Electra Glide, black with orange accents. It was everything I always wanted.

"It's not safe," Jenna pushed when I first asked her to ride with me on it. She would've been the first and last. Jenna was the only one whose arms I wanted wrapped around me as I went on adventures. I remembered our exchange as if it was yesterday.

Why couldn't she see what an honor it was?

She crossed her arms and shifted her weight to one foot, her hip jutting out for emphasis. "I am not getting on that deathtrap. Do you know the statistics of motorcycle accidents?"

"There's not going to be an accident."

I tossed her the helmet and she tossed it right back.

"No, I'm not getting on that thing. Can't we just take my car?"

"Your mother tracks your moves on the highway with that toll sticker like it's a GPS tracker. I don't want her watching our every move." Then I realized she needed a little persuading, so I got off the bike, walked over to where she was standing and rubbed her shoulders. "Come on, princess, it'll be fun."

"I have fun playing Scrabble. Can't we just do that?"

I shook my head. "All right, if you're dead set against this, then I really don't want to push you." That was the last thing I wanted to do. So I backed off and went to get back on the bike when she grabbed my elbow.

I turned back around. "Wait," she said.

"Don't do it for me. We can take your car. It's okay."

Now, she shook her head. "Forget it. We're riding that bike."

"Why the change of heart?"

She swallowed hard. "I can be a bad girl, you know?"

I laughed. "I doubt it, but we can pretend you are for one night."

She swatted my arm.

"You'll be needing this," I said, handing her the pink helmet I, once again, bought with her in mind.

She stared down at it like it wasn't just a helmet. "At least it's pink, that's a plus."

I got back on the bike and waited for her to get on, too. She did, and wrapped her arms around my waist, her delicate hands clinging to my torso. "You ready?" I asked.

I couldn't see whether or not she nodded, only heard her answer, "Yes."

Jenna's voice startled me from my thoughts. I blinked back to the present and pushed aside the memories we shared.

"Give me ten minutes," she said, turning around and clacking her way back to her front door.

I didn't get to answer, just watched as she started shedding clothes while she was walking. First the jacket, then the shoes. The door closed and I couldn't hold back the laugh that escaped my lips. She was one hell of a woman and she clearly wasn't that different from the girl I knew back when.

Leaning against my bike, I waited, wondering what her mother would say, if she even knew I was back in town.

Before long, the door flung open and out ran Jenna. At my side she waved her foot at me, smiling as I took in her sparkly sneakers, jeans and bedazzled jacket. "Safety first. Now, what are you waiting for handsome? I'm ready."

She opened the tail pack on the back of the motorcycle, clearly remembering where I keep a spare helmet. Taking it out, she spun it all around. "It's mine," she said, admiring it.

I shrugged noncommittally. "Told you not much has changed."

She licked her lips. "Well, come on, then."

Watching her slip the helmet on her head I couldn't resist thinking I was the luckiest son of a bitch in the world. Going with the flow, I wrapped my arms around her, picked her up, and spun her around. "Deke, put me down!" She was giggling as she ordered me to.

When I finally put her down, my arms were still around her and she shook her head, moving out of my embrace. "Don't think this changes anything. It doesn't."

"Okay," I said, not believing her one bit. It was one small step in the right direction, I knew.

She peered up at my chest and then arms. "I never could resist a man in a leather jacket."

"That's all this is about? My leather jacket?" I pulled at the front of it. "I found it in my closet this morning. Always did love this thing."

"I remember. It's what drew me to you."

Her words surprised me, but also pleased me to no end. I wiggled my brows and grinned. "My jacket, who knew?"

She chuckled, her cheeks growing pink. "For a teenage girl, it's hot. What can I say?" Then she shrugged and looked away for a beat before adding, "But don't get any ideas. I'm not a teenage girl anymore, Deke."

I heard her, but that didn't mean I was going to listen to her. Looking around, I nodded noncommittally. "Whatever you say."

"All right, you ready to go?" she asked, nudging me toward the bike.

I swung my leg over it and felt at home, just as I always had on here.

She hopped on the back and I could feel her body press into mine as she comfortably wrapped her arms around my torso. I turned around for a brief moment, asking, "Are you ready?"

"Always."