But when he was outside in the rose garden, he would catch glimpses of Gabrielle. And when she didn’t think he was watching, the smile vanished from her face. A glint of worry reflected in her eyes. Was it his fault? Had he upset her that much?
This time he didn’t need to hear her aunt’s voice in his head to know he needed to somehow fix things. Mrs. Kupps was right about Gabrielle being a ray of sunshine in his otherwise gloomy life. And when her light was dimmed, the darkness and shadows were too much for him.
He approached Gabrielle where she was sitting on the patio. She had pen and paper in hand, but she wasn’t looking at either. Instead she was staring out over the ocean with a faraway look in her eyes.
“Mind if I join you?” He stopped next to the table.
She blinked and turned to him. “I don’t mind, if you don’t.”
It wasn’t exactly the invitation he’d been hoping for, but he sat down anyway. “Something is bothering you. I’d like you to tell me what it is.”
She shook her head. “I’m fine.”
“No. You’re not. You haven’t been happy in a while.”
She sighed. “I didn’t know that it was that obvious.”
“Maybe not to others, but I’ve gotten to know you pretty well and I know when you have something on your mind. Is it the fund-raiser? Are you worried—”
“No. It’s not that. Things are going well. In fact, I’m already getting RSVPs to the digital invitations.”
Frankly, that was quite a surprise to him. He’d assumed the event would be a failure. Actually, he’d been counting on it. The thought of opening his home to all those people was not something he relished, but it was a problem he’d deal with later. Right now, he was concerned about Gabrielle.
“If it’s not the fund-raiser, what it is? Maybe I can help.”
Her tentative gaze met his. “It’s my father.”
“Your father? I don’t understand. Did something happen?”
“No. At least not that I know of.”
He should probably leave it there. It wasn’t like he was friends with her father. But the sadness on her face had him searching for the truth. “Then what is it?”
“We’ve just never been apart for this long. It’s always been just the two of us against the world.”
Deacon hadn’t expected this. “But isn’t it nice not to be responsible for caring for him on a daily basis?”
She shrugged. “It never really bothered me. Maybe it should have. I guess I like being needed.”
She did? “You mean you don’t mind taking care of your father even to the extent of you not having a life of your own?”
“Is that what you think?”
“Well, when was the last time you had a date?”
She glanced away. “It’s been a while.”
“And when was the last time you did anything with your friends?”
“Lindsay and I went to the movies the other month.”
“Other month? That sure doesn’t sound like a busy social calendar.”
“Why do I need a busy social calendar? So what if I don’t have time to hang out. I have two jobs to hold down. And the cleaning and shopping to do.” She paused as though she realized that she’d said too much. And then she frowned at him as though he was now the one in trouble.
He drove home his point with one final comment. “Maybe you take on too much.”
“I do what I need to do.”
There was no talking to her. She obviously couldn’t see that she did so much for others that there wasn’t any time left for her. He felt bad for her, but his persistence on this subject was only upsetting her more. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
She sighed. “It’s not you. I’m just frustrated. I’m not sure my father is taking proper care of himself.”
This was Deacon’s chance to pay her back for all the generous things she’d done for him. And he knew exactly what he must do.
When he looked at Gabrielle, he knew he didn’t have any other choice. “Go to your father.”
Her head jerked around until her puzzled gaze met his. “But our agreement—”
“I know about our agreement and I don’t care. I won’t stop you. Go to your father. Make sure he’s okay.”
“Really?” Immediately her face lit up. “You don’t mind?”
“No.” He was lying.
He knew that once she passed beyond the estate gates that she would not return. Why should she? She had a life that had nothing to do with him. She had a father that loved her. Friends to do things with. She had a full life.
And what did he have to offer her? He struggled to come up with any reason for her to return. The memory of their kisses passed through his mind. But he knew that had been a fleeting thing—a moment of pity on her part for a man who looked and sounded like some sort of beast.
“Do you mind if I go now?” She looked radiant, like Dorothy about to click her red heels.
He, however, didn’t feel like the Wizard. “No. Go.”
She ran over to him and hugged him. The moment passed much too quickly and then she pulled back.
He refused to let her see how much her departure bothered him.
Without another word, Gabrielle rushed away. He wasn’t even sure that her feet touched the ground, she was so happy to get away from there. How could he take that happiness away from her? He sighed in resignation.
He was happy for her, but he was sad for himself. He just couldn’t believe in the short amount of time that they’d been together that she’d come to mean so much to him.
And now he was on his own again.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
IT HAD BEEN a lovely visit.
The weekend had flown by. It had been so good to see her father. The time with him had been exactly what she’d needed. And best of all, Newton had been out of the house. Everything had gone smoothly so long as she stayed away from the subject of Deacon.
She’d tried a couple of times to let her father know that Deacon was treating her really well, but her father hadn’t wanted to hear any of it. All he’d wanted to hear regarding Deacon was if she’d gained any information to help move along the legal process. He was still convinced that Deacon had paid off people to bury the accident report. In the end, Gaby had given up because she didn’t want to spend the short amount of time she had with her father arguing. Though she didn’t believe Deacon was a monster, she couldn’t confidently claim his innocence, either. They still didn’t know exactly what had happened in the accident. To say she was confused was putting it mildly.
While she was home, she’d cooked for her father. She’d spent quite a bit of time in the kitchen preparing healthy meals. By the time she left, the fridge was full. The freezer was stuffed with meals that just needed reheating. And her father’s prescriptions were refilled.
Her father begged her not to return to Deacon’s estate, saying that he could take whatever punishment the judge was likely to throw at him. But Gaby told him this was about more than just him. She was doing important work with the fund-raiser and she needed to see it through until the end. And that soon she would be back home. With a hug and a kiss, she’d left for the long drive back to Malibu, knowing her father was doing quite well on his own. Perhaps she did fuss over him more than necessary.
Thanks to Deacon, both she and her father were finding that they didn’t need each other quite so much. When her time was over at the estate perhaps she could stick her foot back in the dating pool. But as soon as she thought of dating, Deacon’s image came to mind.
She tried to imagine him with his hair cut and his face shaved. He’d look like a whole new man and perhaps he’d feel like one, too. Maybe it was time to see how he felt about a makeover.
Monday morning, she opened the door to the guesthouse of Deacon’s estate and paused to look around
. After waking up for the past week to find a yellow rose at her door, today there was none. It saddened her, but she knew eventually they had to stop. Still, she’d come to look forward to them. And now she tried not to read in too much to their absence.
It wasn’t until later that morning, with a check in hand for his signature, that she went in search of him. At that hour of the morning, Deacon was usually tending to the roses. But when she went to the garden, there was no sign of him and it didn’t look as though he’d been there that morning. That was odd.
She went to his office, thinking he was working on an important project, but the office was empty and the lights were off. Concern started pumping through her veins.
In the kitchen, she tracked down Mrs. Kupps. “Do you know where Deacon is?” The woman nodded, but her face said that something was definitely amiss. “You’re worrying me. Where is he?”
“He’s closed in his rooms.”
“His rooms. But why?”
“I don’t know. He hasn’t said a word to me.” Mrs. Kupps shrugged. “He went in there after you left and he hasn’t come out. I’m worried about him.”
Gaby recalled their last conversation. She thought things had been fine between them, but then she recalled how Deacon had been eager for her to go visit her father. She’d missed her father so much at the time that she hadn’t paid much attention to Deacon’s reaction, but looking back on things, she should have realized something was off with him.
“Leave it to me. I’m used to dealing with stubborn males.”
A weak smile lifted the worry lines on the woman’s face. “I knew as soon as I laid eyes on you that you would be the ray of sunshine this house needed. I was just preparing him a late breakfast. You could take it to him, if you like.”
“Thank you. I would.”
Mrs. Kupps put together a tray of eggs, bacon, toast, fruit and juice. When she handed it over, she said, “Good luck.”
“Thank you. I’ll need it.”
Remembering the day that Deacon had taken her to his room to clean her wounds from falling in the rose garden, Gaby made her way upstairs. The tall double doors were closed, but that wasn’t going to stop her.
She leveled her shoulders and then gave a quick knock. Without waiting, she opened the door. She was surprised to find the room so dark. She squinted into the shadows, looking for him.
“Go away!” His deep voice rumbled through the room.
It seemed that he’d regressed. “Your growl isn’t going to scare me.”
Suddenly he was standing in front of her. Frown lines were deeply etched upon his face. “You’re back?” He seemed surprised.
“Of course.”
His face quickly returned to its frown. “Well, since you aren’t going to leave until you’ve had your say, get it over with. Quickly.”
“I hear that you’ve been in your room since I left. What’s the matter? Are you sick?”
“No.”
“Something must be the matter.” Now that her eyes had adjusted to the low lighting, she moved to a table and placed the tray. “You have things to do. There’s no time for slacking.”
“I’m not slacking.” Again his voice rumbled. “Now go away. Shouldn’t you be with your father?”
So that’s what was bothering him? She worked to subdue a smile. He had missed her. Who’d have guessed that? In truth, she’d missed him, too. But she wasn’t ready to admit it.
She moved past him with sure, steady steps. At the window, she stopped and threw open the heavy drapes, letting the bright morning sun into the room. She turned to find Deacon squinting and trying to block the sun’s rays with his hand.
“Close that.”
“And let you sit in here in the dark? I don’t think so.”
He grunted his displeasure. “I’m your boss. You’re supposed to do what I say.”
“I’m your friend, remember? And I’m doing what’s best for you.”
“No, you came back because your father probably kicked you out for working here. I bet you don’t listen to him any better than you do me.”
“When both of you make poor choices, I don’t mind calling either of you out on them.”
Deacon frowned at her. “I didn’t make a poor choice.”
“You mean sitting around in the dark is your way of being productive?”
He opened his mouth and just as quickly closed it again. He sighed and glanced away. “If you’re going to stay here, shouldn’t you be in your office doing some work instead of harassing me?”
“I will just as soon as you start eating that delicious meal Mrs. Kupps prepared for you.” He looked at her but he didn’t move. She crossed her arms and tapped her foot. “I have all day.”
With a look of resignation, he moved to the small table and sat down. “You are certainly something.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
He took a bite of egg. It was followed by a half a slice of toast. Partway through his meal, he stopped and looked at her. “Why do you care?”
“Because you apparently need someone to care about you. You don’t seem to do a very good job of it on your own.”
“How am I supposed to, when I know what I’ve done?” The worry and stress lines etched his handsome face.
“I thought you said you didn’t remember the accident?”
He let out a heavy breath, causing her heart to lodge in her throat. Did he know more than he’d told her? Had the police report been released? Her mind rapidly searched for the reason for his despair.
“Talk to me,” she prompted, needing him to tell her that the worst hadn’t happened.
“The nightmares are getting worse. It’s hard to tell the truth from the products of my imagination.”
“And...” She waved her hands as though trying to pull the information from him.
“And I remember bits and pieces, like the fire burning my skin. I remember your aunt. I remember her saying ‘Take care of Gabrielle.’”
“What? She did?” When he nodded, she asked, “Is that why you gave me this job?”
His gaze met hers. “Yes.”
Gaby had been right about him. Deacon was a good man—buried beneath a mountain of unnecessary guilt. Her aunt’s words were the proof of his innocence that she needed.
“Why are you smiling?” His dark eyes searched hers.
“Don’t you understand? You’re innocent.”
His eyebrows drew together and his forehead wrinkled. “Why would you say that?”
“Because if you were guilty, my aunt never would have asked you to reach out to me and take care of me—not that I need you to.” Gaby smiled at him, feeling as though a huge weight had been lifted. When he didn’t look convinced, she asked, “What’s wrong?”
Deacon rubbed the back of his neck. “Your theory is not proof—not legally.”
“It’s enough for me. It’ll all work out. You’ll see.” There was one more thing bothering her. “But if you really wanted to fulfill her wishes, instead of having me work here, you could have just offered me money or something, but you didn’t. Why?”
Deacon hesitated. “When you went on and on about how you cared for your father after telling me that he could take care of himself, I wanted you to know that you could have a life of your own and you didn’t have to sacrifice everything for him.”
“It was more than that and you know it.”
“Perhaps.”
“Perhaps nothing. You wanted to separate me from my father in order to punish him for the pain he caused you.”
Deacon’s gaze lowered and he nodded. “Yes, I did. I suppose that makes me a bad person.”
“No. It just makes you human.” She eyed him as he returned to eating. “Speaking of making you more human. What would you say to a haircut and shave?”
“I
don’t think that’s a good idea.”
She wasn’t going to let him wiggle out of this. He’d been hiding behind all of that hair long enough. “Really? You like having your hair hang in your eyes?”
“No, but it’s better than seeing what’s beneath it.”
So he was worried about the scars. He couldn’t hide from them forever. Maybe facing up to them would be his first step back to the life he’d left behind after the accident.
She stepped closer to him. “I’d like to see you. The real you beneath all of that hair.”
He looked at her as though gauging her interest. “And what if I’m a scary mess?”
“I’ll still think you’re handsome.” Now where had that come from? She couldn’t believe she’d uttered those words, even if it was the truth.
His eyes widened with surprise. “Really? You’re not just saying that because you pity me? Which is ridiculous considering I lived and your aunt didn’t. Listen to me. I just keep rambling...”
She kneeled down next to him. With her hands, she smoothed his hair back from his face. “There you are. Yes, you’re definitely the most handsome man I know.”
There she went again, saying the first thing that popped into her mind. But this time, when Deacon reached up and wrapped his hand around her wrist, she didn’t regret speaking the truth.
“Okay. I’ll do it,” he said, “as long as you do the haircut and shave.”
That wasn’t exactly what she’d imagined when she’d proposed the idea. Still, if he was willing to take this big step with her, who was she to deny him?
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
HER HEART POUNDED in her chest.
After gathering the supplies she needed, Gabrielle stood there in Deacon’s bathroom holding a razor.
What if she messed up? She wasn’t a barber or a hairdresser. Sure she could trim her own bangs when her hairstyle dictated. But there was a big difference between trimming bangs and trimming a man’s entire head, on top of giving him a shave.
But with his dominant hand still not working well enough for him to manage a razor, what choice did she have?
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