A Timely Gift

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A Timely Gift Page 2

by Kris T. Bethke


  My gasp of shock was both overly loud and overly dramatic, but neither could be helped. The women sitting next to us looked over, but I ignored them and leaned forward. I knew people were callous, but I couldn’t believe anyone would do that to Deacon.

  He smiled softly. “Thanks. It was a shitty time, that’s for sure.”

  “I’m sorry, Deacon. That’s total crap. Just because—”

  He waved my irritation away. “Nah. Don’t get too down on her. We weren’t right for each other, and she only said it so we’d have a huge fight. Which we did. Eventually we actually talked and realized it was time to let go. It was an amicable divorce, in the end. And Gregor Palanik retired.”

  “Your former mentor?” Seeing Deacon’s attitude about the whole thing, it was clear he was over what had happened with his wife. It still irritated me, but I could let it go, seeing as how he’d healed and moved on.

  “Mhmm. Gregor had a whole host of students, ready and willing, needing someone to guide them. I jumped at the chance, moved back here, and….” He shrugged. “Here we are.”

  I studied him, really looked at him, and saw the contentment in his face—happiness even. Back when he was studying hard and practicing five hours a day, he still made time for his mentor’s younger students and helped them hone their craft. He gave them something to aspire to.

  “Well, then.” I finished my latte with a long drink and set the cup on the table. I fiddled with a napkin so I would have something to do with my hands. “Sounds like everything worked out, then.”

  “It did.” Deacon cleared his throat and waved a hand. “Enough about me. What have you been doing with yourself?” He eyed the scrubs pointedly.

  I laughed. “Vet tech, of course.”

  “Of course.” Deacon’s smile was warm. “You said that once you got your degree in biology, at your parents’ request, you’d get your certification.”

  “Yep. Some of my credits transferred, thank goodness. But I went directly to Alfred State after graduation.”

  “That’s so awesome. You did what you said you were going to, what you always wanted to.”

  I shook my head, but a small smile played on my lips. “So did you.”

  Something I couldn’t quite interpret flashed across Deacon’s face, and it was gone before I could try. He opened his mouth but then closed it.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. I bet you have a whole menagerie at home.”

  I laughed. “Nope. Apollo wouldn’t tolerate it.”

  Deacon’s face lit up. “I can’t believe you still have the bird.”

  “Of course I do. African Greys live a long time. And no way could I get rid of him. That bird is my life.”

  “I know.” Deacon’s smile turned soft. He stared at me, just looking, and he darted his gaze all over my face. My heart sped up as I watched him watch me. Being the center of Deacon’s attention was a heady thing, and I was suddenly transported back in time to those three months when he always had his attention on me.

  Suddenly he sat up straighter and cocked his head to the side. He pursed his mouth, confusion in his eyes, and he tilted his head.

  “Deacon?”

  “Do you hear… ticking?”

  I was about to deny it, but then I heard it too. It was faint, but there was no doubt it was there. I glanced around and tried to find it. Then I laughed as I reached into my pocket.

  “Check this out.” I held it out to Deacon. “It was my grandda’s. He gave it to me yesterday for solstice.”

  Deacon took it reverently and gently turned it over in his scarred palm. “I didn’t know solstice was a gift-giving holiday.”

  I shrugged. “Grandda’s pagan. He celebrates it in his own way. Like, he burns the Yule log and puts up mistletoe. We always have dinner together at his house. I think he stays up all night, then he goes out and says blessings or prayers or something like that with the sunrise. We’ve never done that part.”

  “This is beautiful,” Deacon said. He held it up so I could see the back. “Is that the Cameron family crest?”

  “It is.” I couldn’t help but smile. Seeing his appreciation over the dented, scratched old watch warmed my insides.

  He popped it open. “And it works perfectly.”

  “Even if it ticks loudly sometimes.” I grinned wider as I took it back. I was surprised to see the time. “But we’ve been sitting here for almost an hour, and I just got off the night shift. I need to get home and see to Apollo. You might remember he can only hold it for so long.”

  Deacon’s shout of laughter was warm and bright, and I chuckled at the infectious sound. God, he had a great laugh.

  “I still can’t believe you have a bird that craps on command.”

  I lifted one shoulder, but I couldn’t stop grinning. “You gotta admit, it keeps the mess down.”

  I started to gather the dishes so I could drop them in the bin by the door, but Deacon shot a hand out and captured mine. I stilled under his touch, feeling his warmth. His fingers were long and lean, but there was a certain strength to them that made my heart race. A piano player’s hands. And I remembered all too well the way they’d played my body.

  “It was great to see you again, Rory. I didn’t…. I never expected to run into you. It was great catching up.”

  I turned my hand so I could grip his fingers and squeezed tightly for a moment. “It was. I’m really glad we got a chance to talk.”

  Deacon stood. He lingered a little and slid his fingers along mine as he reluctantly let go of my hand. Before I could protest, he scooped up the dishes and grabbed his coat from the back of his chair. He took a step and then stopped right beside me.

  My breath caught as he leaned down, but it was only to place a soft, chaste kiss on my cheek. “Take care of yourself. Have a merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas, Deacon.”

  And he was gone.

  I sat for a moment longer, trying to gather myself. In my wildest dreams, I never imagined I would see him again. And now that I had, I was grateful I’d gotten the chance. Then a pang of regret coursed through me as I realized I should have gotten his number. Even if he didn’t want to start things up again—I wasn’t sure I did—we could have been friends. I stood quickly, but Deacon was nowhere to be seen.

  Missed opportunity. Dammit. Ah well. I guessed it just wasn’t meant to be.

  I pocketed the watch, pulled on my coat and hat, and headed to my car, feeling decidedly warmer than I had an hour earlier. I was certain it wasn’t because of the temperature, which was still as frigid as ever. But getting a chance to see Deacon, seeing he was happy and doing well, that had warmed me thoroughly.

  Chapter Three

  SATURDAYS WERE easy days at Heartline Animal Clinic, and I never minded working them. That day it was especially true, as my four-hour shift would be over in a blink of an eye, and then I’d be free until the day after Christmas. I worked Christmas Eve the year before, so I got to take this one off.

  I was killing time so I wouldn’t arrive too early, but there was nothing left to do. I had watered the Christmas tree and attached the lights to a timer so they’d come on a couple of minutes before I got home. Safer that way, and I would be able to walk in to a happily lit tree. I even had my playlist of Christmas carols queued up so I could hit the button as soon as I got home. Then I’d enjoy a mug of peppermint hot chocolate and start my holidays off right.

  Screw it. I was too restless to sit around. My pocket watch showed me fifteen minutes before I needed to leave, but I’d rather be early than late. I snapped the watch closed and went to shove it in my pocket.

  But the lid popped open.

  Maybe it didn’t catch. I tried again… and again and again, softly, and then with force and giving it a little jiggle. I stood in my entryway, coat on but not zipped, and fiddled with the watch until finally it closed and stayed that way. I stared at it sitting innocuously in my hand. How weird. It had never done that before. But then again, it was old and
more than a little battered. Cautiously I pressed the button and the lid popped open. And when I pushed it down again, it remained closed.

  Deciding it must be a fluke, I called a goodbye to Apollo, waited until he said it back, and then I stepped outside, shut the door firmly, and jogged down my front steps.

  And almost ran into a man jogging past in thermal sweats.

  “Whoa. Sorry.”

  “Rory?” Deacon sounded shocked, and I took a step back to see the person I’d nearly bowled over.

  Definitely Deacon—a sweaty, flushed, beautiful Deacon. My body took notice before my brain could catch up, and I stepped into his space without thought. He was breathing hard, and with every exhale, I caught a whiff of mint on the cold air. It was all I could do not to climb him like a tree right there on the sidewalk.

  Deacon’s smile was radiant as he put his hands on his waist and tried to catch his breath. I couldn’t stop staring and didn’t even try. It only made him grin harder.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, as breathless as though I’d been the one running.

  “I live here.” He made a face and chuckled. “Well, not here here. But a couple of blocks up and around a corner. I’m renting a tiny kind of run-down but full-of-charm bungalow. It has lime-green shutters.” He winced.

  I laughed. “I know that house. It’s sweet.”

  He nodded and finally got his breath under control. “Yeah, it’s nice, and it’ll do me for now. Everything happened fast—the move and all—so I just needed something until I could decide what I wanted.”

  “Well that’s great. This is me.” I jerked my thumb behind me. The motion was a little rougher than I intended, and I felt the watch shift in my pocket, a hard lump against my chest. Right. I had somewhere to be.

  I stepped around Deacon, and he turned to keep me in his line of sight. I almost stepped off the curb because I was so focused on him, and he reached out with lightning-fast reflexes to keep me from falling. With a gentle yank, I nearly collided with his chest.

  “What are your plans for Christmas?” I had no idea where the question came from, but when the light dimmed in his eyes, I instantly regretted it. It was probably a stark reminder he was alone for the holiday. Considering he was standing on the walk in front of my house the day before Christmas Eve—unless he was traveling later that day or the next.

  He shrugged and did his best to look unaffected. “You know, probably takeout on the couch with some movies.”

  Crap. “Come spend the holiday with me.”

  He blinked. “What?”

  “Yeah. It’ll be great.” I hadn’t intended to invite him, sure, but I knew it was the right thing. “No one should be alone at Christmas. I have a movie fest on Christmas Eve. It’s my tradition, so you can do that with me instead of by yourself. And then Christmas Day we all gather at my family’s house.”

  He didn’t say anything for a long moment. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

  I quickly shook my head and placed a hand on his arm. “I promise, you won’t be.”

  He bounced in place, gaze darting around for a moment, and then let out a breath. “You sure?”

  “Absolutely. Say you’ll come.”

  Another few seconds of silence passed, and he nodded just once. “Okay. Thanks.”

  “Great.”

  Deacon’s smile was soft, and he shook his head. “You headed somewhere?”

  “What? Oh yeah. Crap. I need to go into work for a few hours. If I don’t get a move on, I’ll be late.” I turned toward my car and then stopped and spun back. “But tomorrow you’ll be here?”

  “Yes, Rory. I’ll be here.” He sounded amused.

  “Okay. Good. Wait. Give me your number.” I fished my phone out of my pocket, unlocked it, and handed it over. He tapped at the screen and then handed it back. I shot out a quick text and heard his phone chime in his pocket. I grinned. “And now you have mine. I’ll talk to you later. I need to go.”

  “Have a good day at work.” His grin was more of a smirk. He was trying for funny, and I laughed because he was adorable.

  “Have a good run. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Deacon waved and jogged away. I watched him go for a minute to admire his strength and power, and then I chuckled to myself as I got in the car.

  There was no doubt in my mind I was still attracted to him, but that wasn’t what it was about. I had to remind myself of that. We were friends spending the holiday together. That’s all it was. And since that was a very good thing, I didn’t try to stop the smile that didn’t want to leave my lips.

  Chapter Four

  “OKAY. SO we have all the classic Christmas movies, freshly baked Christmas cookies, hot chocolate, and Baileys.” I paused to wink, and Deacon laughed. “And dinner is just about done. Chicken tetrazzini. Which this wine will go perfectly with, so good for you for having psychic powers.”

  Deacon grinned and gestured to the bottle he’d just handed me as he followed me into the house. “I remembered you liked white. It was pure coincidence.”

  “Even still, good job.” I held out a hand for a high five, and Deacon chortled as he slapped his palm to mine. “Toss your coat and stuff on that chair. And then come into the kitchen. We’ll eat before we get started on the whole movie fest.”

  Deacon did those things and joined me just as I pulled the casserole out of the oven.

  “Your house is great. Cozy. And very festive.”

  “Thanks.” I shot him a smile. “Even though it’s just me and Apollo here, we still like all the holiday trappings.”

  “Where is the bird?”

  “In his room.” Deacon shot me a look, and I laughed. “The spare room has his cage, a couple of perches, and his radio. I usually bring him out when I get home, but he doesn’t get to hang around when I eat. All he does is beg for almonds when he sees me eating.”

  “Well. He knows what he wants. What can I do to help?”

  “Nothing. I got this. Take a seat.” I motioned toward the table.

  “Fancy,” he murmured.

  I ducked my head and hid a smile. I’d vacillated on whether I should pull out the holiday placemats and cloth napkins, but in the end, I decided to go ahead. I didn’t get to use them often, and it was the perfect opportunity. The candles in the pewter holders might be a bit much, but it looked great. It was as much for me as it was for him.

  I set the casserole on the trivet on the table, found the corkscrew, and opened the wine. I’d intended to serve a chardonnay, so the glasses were already on the table. But his Chenin blanc was even better. After I poured the wine, I served us both a generous helping and sat down.

  Deacon took a cautious bite in deference to the heat, and he closed his eyes as he savored the morsel in his mouth. “God, that’s good.”

  “Thank you. I cheated a little with the sauce and used canned soup as the base, but still, it’s pretty good.” I took my own bite and loved the way the flavors melded on my tongue.

  For a couple of minutes, we ate in silence. I had to remind myself not to stare at him. Deacon was just so dang good-looking, and the red cable-knit sweater he was wearing was the perfect color for him. But it wasn’t just his looks that held me captive. Deacon was a sensual man, and that was even more obvious when he was eating. He wielded his fork with ease with his long, capable fingers, and every bite he took was clearly delicious. Each emotion telegraphed distinctly on his face.

  “There’s that ticking again,” Deacon said when we’d cleared about half our plates. His voice startled me after long minutes of silence, and I put down my fork and reached in my pocket to pull out the watch.

  “It does weird things sometimes.” I set the watch on the table between us. Strangely the ticking sounded quieter out of my pocket. “I guess it’s just showing its age.”

  “It’s amazing, really. After all these years, it still does what it’s supposed to. Most of the stuff made nowadays doesn’t last that long.”

  “True. I’m surpri
sed Grandda gave it up. But then again, there’s always something behind the old man’s machinations.” My words were laced with all the affection I felt.

  Deacon smiled. “How’s he doing?”

  “Fantastic. Really. Healthy as a horse and as strong as always. I swear, that man is going to live to be a hundred and fifty.”

  Deacon laughed. “If anyone can do it, your grandfather can.” He took another bite, chewed and swallowed, and took a sip of wine. “And your parents?”

  My gaze shot to his, and I was sure the surprise was evident. Deacon shrugged.

  “We did the catching-up thing between us already. Seems only right we ask after family next.”

  I couldn’t fault his logic. “Da’s doing awesome. Still working, still winning cases.” My father was a corporate attorney. I gave him a sad smile. “But we lost Mom two years ago.”

  “Oh, Rory.” He set down his fork so he could cover my hand with his. “I’m so very sorry to hear that.”

  “Thank you. She was pretty sick, so it was a relief, even though it was sad. It hasn’t been easy, but we’re coping.” I shook off the malaise that threatened to overwhelm whenever I thought of my mom. “Keira and Lachlan are doing well too. And enough about my family. How are your parents?”

  Deacon was an only child and not close to his extended family, so his parents were the only ones in his life. Deacon made a face, and I saw the tension creep into his shoulders—not a good sign.

  “Never mind,” I said quickly. “Forget I asked.”

  “Nah, it’s okay. When my ex-wife and I split up, my mom was pissed off. She liked Gena, so she couldn’t understand why we were getting divorced. My mom and I fought about it a lot. She asked me where I was going to find another good woman like Gena. I said maybe this time I’d be with a man.”

  I winced. “Ooooh.”

  “Yeah.” Deacon blew out a breath. “So then I tried to explain that I’m bi, but all she heard was the man part and, you know, that must be the reason we were divorcing. Because I couldn’t keep it in my pants, and I was fucking guys behind Gena’s back.”

 

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