by Aven Ellis
Everything in my world—the happiness of my project, the closeness I feel with Deke—crashes down around me.
“You . . . you’re . . . you’re leaving?” I sputter, stunned.
“Tonight,” Deke says quietly. “I thought it would be best if I got out of your way.”
No, this isn’t what’s best for me. Can’t he see that? I suddenly realize that I want more time with him here, in San Francisco. I’m not ready for it to end, not yet.
“You can’t leave me,” I blurt out.
Deke appears taken aback. “Avery, if you’re afraid to fly by yourself—”
“No, that’s not it,” I say. “Deacon, I don’t want you to leave. I want to share San Francisco with you,” I tell him, not giving a damn if this is inappropriate. “Thursday is the 4th of July. I have the rest of the week off. And I can’t think of a cooler way to celebrate my achievement than in this city, with you.”
“What are you saying?” he asks, a stunned look passing over his handsome face.
“Stay with me,” I say honestly, speaking from my heart. “Celebrate the 4th of July with me here, in San Francisco. Tell me you’ll stay, Deacon. Please tell me you’ll stay.”
Chapter 19
Deke stares at me for what seems like an eternity. My heart is erupting inside my chest as his eyes search my face, trying to figure out what I want from him.
Of course, I know that what I really want from Deke I’ll never be able to have.
Because Isabel already has his heart.
My stomach lurches painfully at the thought, but I force the feeling aside. Because sharing this city and this Premier Airlines experience with him as my friend is enough for me. I quickly realize that I need to reassure him I have nothing else on my mind as far as my invitation goes.
“Deacon,” I plead, filling the silence, “I understand that the kiss we shared on Sunday means nothing. It means nothing to me, too,” I lie. “We’re just friends. And I want to share the experience of San Francisco with you as a friend and nothing more.”
Deke blinks. He snaps his head back a bit and looks at me like I’ve just slapped him across the face. I freeze, as I’m completely confused by his reaction. Why does he appear to be so hurt? He’s the one who is in love with Isabel. I’m the one who is hurting here, not Deke.
“Of course,” he says. “I know that.”
Suddenly another reality hits me as I see the painful expression on his face. Oh, shit, what if he has plans with Isabel for the 4th of July? Is this why he looks so awkward? Because I’ve opened my big mouth with no regard to the fact that he might want to spend holiday time with his girlfriend rather than his subject?
And once again, I’ve put him in the horrible position of having to let me down easy.
“Never mind. I shouldn’t have asked you to stay,” I quickly blurt out, desperate to rectify this mistake. “I know you must have plans to watch fireworks over Navy Pier with Isabel or something like that. I’m sorry I asked.”
“No,” Deke says simply.
“No?” I ask, confused.
“No, I don’t have plans with Isabel,” Deke says. He pauses for a moment. “She’s in Madrid this week.”
I hold my breath as I take in his words. So there’s no reason why he can’t stay here with me—if he wants to.
“Then stay in San Francisco,” I say softly. “You’re the only person who can help me celebrate my achievement with Premier Airlines. You’re the only one who really understands what this means to me. You’ve been on this whole journey, the good and the bad. And it’s only right that you are here for this part of it. Please, Deacon, please.”
God, I ache to touch him, to simply put my hand over his, but decide that’s a dangerous thing. It’s probably not wise to touch a man you love but who loves someone else instead. It’s kind of like putting your palm on a hot stovetop.
The only thing you are bound to get is burned.
Deke stares at me once again, but I notice his expression has softened. “So you’re planning to stay another couple of days?”
“Well, it’s not like I really planned it,” I admit.
A slow smile begins to form on Deke’s face. “Right. So you have the extra money to stay at the Fairmont for two more nights?”
Damn it. He knows the saga of my finances better than I do. Or care to remember, I think miserably.
And he knows as well as I do that if I do stay two more days, it should be at Motel 6 and not the Fairmont.
“Well,” I say, swallowing, “uh, with some careful budgeting, I’m sure I can make this work. Besides, you know how much I hate flying. I’ll probably never come back here again. This is really an investment in a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”
“I see,” he says, his eyes still on mine.
“And if I forget all about that skirt at shopkitson.com and the new pair of Paige Premium Denim jeans I’ve been saving for, I should be able to afford this trip.”
Damn. I really wanted those items for my end of summer wardrobe.
But then I think of Deke and know this will be worth the sacrifice, if I can convince him to stay.
“So financially you’re okay. But didn’t you have plans back in Chicago for the long weekend?”
“Trust me, Mom will understand if I’m not there for her annual Cool Whip and fruit 4th of July flag cake.”
He furrows his brow. “Flag cake?”
“You know, it’s made of pound cake and Cool Whip and strawberries and blueberries make up the stars and stripes part of the cake. Haven’t you had one of those before?”
“No,” Deke says, looking rather skeptical at the idea of a Cool Whip and fruit flag cake.
“Well, that’s horrible. You don’t know what you’re missing. I’ll have to make you one when we get back to Chicago. But I digress. My mom and dad will be thrilled I want to stay here, I promise.”
He nods. “So you can afford the trip, your parents will be okay . . . sounds like you have all the bases covered, Fashionista.”
I notice a glint in Deke’s eyes, and my spine tingles in response. Now he’s teasing me, which only means one thing.
He’s going to stay.
“I do,” I say smartly, keeping my euphoria to myself.
“Well, since you’ve paid attention to all the details in this proposal of yours, I don’t see how I can say no.”
I grin excitedly at him. “You won’t be sorry you’re staying. We’re going to have so much fun. I have like 376 things we’ll have to do between Wednesday afternoon and Friday morning before we go back, but—”
“Not so fast. You’ve obviously invited me to stay because of my knowledge of San Francisco. So I’ll arrange the tourist itinerary. You go back to your conference, and by Wednesday afternoon, I’ll have everything planned for us. I promise you’ll have the time of your life if you trust me on this. So do you trust me?” he asks softly.
“I do trust you,” I say quietly.
“Good.”
I swallow hard as a lump has unexpectedly risen in my throat. Emotions get the better of me, and only one thought is going through my head as I stare back at him.
I do trust you, Deke. And I’d trust you with my heart if you wanted it, I add to myself.
The problem is, Deke doesn’t want my heart.
I swallow hard again. But he does want my friendship, I think. And that’s what I need to focus on.
So despite the fact there will be no romance involved, I’m really happy that Deke has agreed to stay. He wants to show me the time of my life in San Francisco during the 4th of July holiday.
And I intend to let him do just that.
Chapter 20
“This,” I gasp, staring out over the fog-shrouded bay in front of me, “is beyond fabu
lous.”
Deke grins as I look at him. “Well, I don’t know if it’s beyond fabulous, as you like to say, but it will certainly make for a beyond unconventional fireworks display.”
I nod excitedly in agreement. It’s the 4th of July, and we got to Pier 39 early in order to snag seats near the bay. The air is very damp and cold, but I’m snug in my pea coat and Burberry scarf. My skin tingles as a chilly wind moves off the bay and across our bodies, and I know my cheeks and nose have a rosy, cold-weather glow.
And I’ve never felt more alive in my entire life.
The past two days have been the best days I’ve ever had. And I know I’ve said that before, but I really mean it this time.
Deke arranged a whirlwind tour of San Francisco for me. Yesterday, as soon as the meetings broke up, we went to Chinatown for lunch. Then we went to Golden Gate Park and explored it for hours. We ended the day by having dinner at a fantastic Vietnamese restaurant, and I absolutely loved my first experience with Vietnamese cuisine.
This morning started off just as well. We went to the Ferry Building Marketplace, a fabulous place filled with shops and restaurants. And there were food shops for everything—coffee, wines, cheeses, pastries, caviar . . . and we ate our whole way through it. We ended the day shopping, going to some fabulous boutiques and then, of course, to a vintage T-shirt store for Deke. We went to the Golden Gate Bridge and drove across it, which was nothing short of magical.
And after having a very un-4th-of-July dinner of Dungeness crabs, we’re content to sit and talk while we wait for the firework show over the bay.
I sneak a glance over at Deke, the person who has lived up to his promise to show me the time of my life in San Francisco. He’s sitting just inches from me, and when the wind blows, I can smell his cologne. He’s wearing a black leather jacket and woolen knit cap, and he looks rugged and outdoorsy to me.
Not to mention smokin’ Drop Dead Gorgeous hot.
But since I’ve been focusing on our friendship the past two days, I can totally ignore that aspect while sitting next to him.
Okay, so maybe that’s a lie. But Deke really is sexy with the two-day stubble on his jaw line, and the way his sun-highlighted hair peeks out from underneath his cap.
“So are you sure you’re okay with waiting down here for a few hours before the show starts?” he asks, interrupting my thoughts.
I quickly shift my eyes to the water, thinking it is safer to focus there than at the Caribbean Sea-colored eyes that are looking at me now.
“Yes,” I declare, bringing the San Francisco Giants stadium blanket we bought earlier up over my thighs. “But are the fireworks really going to be hidden under the fog?” I go to take a sip of the hot coffee we’ve just purchased, but Deke stops me.
“Wait. Before you take a sip of that, I’ve got something that will help warm you up.”
I hesitate for a moment then Deke reaches inside the pocket of his leather jacket and withdraws a miniature bottle of Baileys Irish Cream.
“Baileys,” I say, delighted. I quickly take off the plastic lid on my cup, and he pours a bit of the creamy liqueur into my coffee. “Thank you,” I say.
“You’re welcome,” he says, adding some to his own cup. “Now, in answer to your question about the fireworks. Yes. Because of the fog, you’ll hear a distant thud and the clouds will light up in the color of the firework.”
“I can’t wait for it to start,” I say, smiling at Deke. “I never thought of fog interfering with fireworks before.”
I pause to take a sip of my coffee, and the Baileys slides down my throat, warming my insides. And the taste of coffee and Irish cream together is delicious.
“Mmm,” I say, sighing happily. “That does warm you up.”
“Yeah, I think so, too,” he says, taking a sip.
A comfortable silence falls between us, and I gaze at Deke again, thinking of how incredible he has made my whole journey to San Francisco. Of how no one else could show me the world like he has, introducing me to so many new things and experiences. And I know now is the time I want to thank him for it.
“Deacon?” I say quietly.
He turns toward me. “Yeah?”
“Thank you for everything,” I say softly. “I couldn’t have asked for anything more from you these past few days. You’ve shown me the most fabulous city in a way no one else could have. I’m honored you wanted to share it with me.”
Deke’s eyes burn intensely into mine. “I’m glad I could share it with you, Avery. I really am. And I’m glad you weren’t disappointed.”
“Disappointed?” I ask, shocked he would choose this word. “How on earth could I be disappointed?”
He turns away from me, fixing his gaze down to the coffee cup in his hand. “I don’t know. I seem to have disappointed a lot of women in my lifetime.”
I pause for a moment. He’s opening up to me. I know now is the time to unwrap more of the protective layers Deke keeps so tightly wrapped around himself.
“Who have you disappointed?” I ask quietly.
“Who have I not disappointed is more like it,” Deke says, fiddling with the lid on his coffee cup. “Starting with my mother. I could always tell she was disappointed with being a mom. She was always frustrated or depressed when Zach and I were little. And that’s why I tried to become invisible as a kid. I figured if she didn’t know I was there, she wouldn’t be so disappointed with what her life had become because she had me.”
My throat swells up as I take in his words. I swallow hard as I study him. And suddenly I know how Deke got the mindset to be a videographer. To blend, to stay behind the scenes, to observe life around him rather than star in it.
“Then there was Christine,” Deke says, taking a sip of his coffee before he continues. “She was my first serious girlfriend. I thought I was going to marry her.”
“So what happened?”
“Oh, we dated during high school and college. She went to DePaul,” he says. “And one night we were chatting on Connectivity messenger. Apparently she was messaging a friend at the same time, and she mistakenly thought she was talking to her friend when she typed to me how bored she was with me and our relationship. That I was going nowhere chasing this videographer dream, but she didn’t want to break up with me until something better came along.”
I gasp aloud, horrified that Deke had to read that about himself. “Deacon,” I say, my heart hurting for him, “that’s awful. I’m so sorry that happened to you.”
Deke smiles wryly at me. “Thank you. But needless to say, I dumped her on the spot.” He sighs and stares out over the water. “I haven’t had a serious girlfriend since then. Not necessarily because of what happened with Christine, but due to my travel schedule. I’m really not one for casual relationships, you know?”
My heart freezes inside my chest. I know he’s finally moved on with Isabel, and from what he is telling me now, Deke must have really strong feelings for Isabel if he’s dating her.
I clear my throat, not wanting to think about that.
“I’m not into casual relationships, either,” I admit quietly. “I’ve had exactly three serious boyfriends in my life: one in high school, two in college, and that’s it.”
Deke grins at me. “I bet you had to beat guys back in college.”
“No,” I say, smiling. Then I decide to turn the tables on him. “What about you, shooting in all those exotic locations with gorgeous TV personalities? I’m sure you had to beat girls back, too.”
He grins and takes a sip of his coffee. “Not exactly.”
“So is travel the only reason you haven’t had a serious girlfriend in a while?” I probe carefully. “Or is it because you are afraid of being hurt again?”
“I guess I’d be lying to you if I blamed it all on my travel schedule, wouldn’t I?” De
ke says softly.
“Deacon, none of those things—with your mom, with Christine—were your fault,” I say. “You can’t take on their issues and take the blame for their unhappiness.”
Deke gets a stunned expression on his face. “You really believe that, don’t you?”
“All I know,” I say, speaking from my heart, “is that you are an incredible man. You have compassion and kindness for others. You’re the most insightful person I’ve ever met. And best of all, you challenge people to be better than they are.”
I’m silent for a moment, and Deke simply stares at me, taking in my words.
“Avery,” he says softly, “I’ve never had anyone say anything like that to me before. Ever. You have no idea what that means to me that you think that.”
I blink as I stare into his beautiful eyes, which reflect nothing but emotion. Then I swallow hard and tell him the absolute truth, however painful it is for me to admit.
“I think Isabel is a very lucky woman to have you, Deacon,” I whisper. “Very lucky.”
Deke stares at me for a moment. Then he turns his head and studies his coffee cup.
“Right,” he says quietly.
I blink back tears as I gaze out over the bay, watching the whitecaps dance on the water. Oh, God. This is too hard. I know Deke needed to hear that, but realizing just how much he must feel for Isabel is tearing me apart.
“No,” he suddenly says. “That’s not true.”
I turn to find him staring at me. “No?” I ask, confused.
