Clearing his throat, he fought the desire to focus on Hannah again, instead addressing the crowd, wanting them all to hear his confession.
“I’ve had two great loves in my life,” he said. “The first is my son, Max, who has more energy than ten cartons of Red Bull. Many of you knew me growing up, some of you even taught me, so I’m sure you’ll understand when I say he inherited my, uh, playfulness.”
As he’d expected, the audience chuckled, and a lone scream rose from the back. “Karma’s a bitch!”
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered with a grin. “My son also happens to have the biggest heart and brightest smile I’ve ever seen, and as much as I’d like to think he inherited those, too, I know better. Those are a direct result of the second great love of my life. A woman who’s cared for him from the second he screamed his arrival and raised him right alongside me, being a parent in every sense of the word despite what biology might say about it.”
Finally, he let his gaze find Hannah’s, and he watched her lift a trembling hand to her lips.
“This same incredible woman changed the life of a fifteen-year-old angry kid and gave him a reason to breathe. She taught him what it meant to dream and continues to make him a better man just by believing in him.”
The crowd shifted in their seats, clearly curious about what was happening, and as they found Hannah in the stands, whispers and conversation broke out. People in the floor bleachers pivoted to watch and a kaleidoscope of emotions washed over her face. Embarrassment, vulnerability, and hope illuminated her skin as tears cascaded down her porcelain cheeks. But it was the love he saw in her eyes that gave him the confidence to say what he did next.
“Hannah Fisher,” Deacon called over the mic, erasing any mystery surrounding who he was talking about. “I was an idiot. The one thing I never wanted to do was hurt you, but I did that by pushing you away. I’m so sorry, Cherry. Please tell me it’s not too late.”
Smiling, she softly shook her head.
“Good. Thank God, because you’re the reason I get up every morning, Hannah. You’re the reason I ever chased this crazy dream to begin with. I fell in love with you ten years ago, I just didn’t know it. Luckily, I’m a lot smarter now.”
Hannah’s jaw tumbled open as cautious hope filled her face. Deacon glanced back at his friends. One by one they nodded their approval, and beyond them, Sherry and Arabella clasped hands with enormous smiles. This was it. He, the loner who never thought he’d have a family, was about to offer his heart to the woman he loved and hope that she wanted it. He’d never been more terrified in his life. He exhaled a shaky breath, and the sound echoed through the speakers.
Damn. That was embarrassing.
Charlie smirked. “Not as easy as it looks, huh?” he muttered, and Deacon laughed in understanding.
Reaching into his front pocket, he turned back to face Hannah. Her eyes were filled with wonder. His hand closed around what he’d hidden there earlier, and when he bent down on one knee, a collective gasp filled the room.
“Hannah Katherine Fisher, you are my partner and equal in every way. I want to fill your days with passion and excitement, and make you feel as cherished and special as you deserve. I want to make babies with you and help you change the world.” Deacon’s voice broke with so much pride for this woman. She was a powerhouse who was only just beginning to understand her value. “Please, do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
Hannah covered her mouth with her hands, and the woman to her right nudged her. Deacon recognized Crystal from the church, and she sent him a maniacal grin as she tugged Hannah to her feet.
Visibly shaking, wiping tears, Hannah stared at him like he was a mirage. Deacon held his breath even as his chest burned for oxygen, waiting for her to respond. Finally, the sweetest voice he’d ever heard yelled out one word, crystal clear and hitting him square in the chest.
“Yes!”
The crowd erupted, and Deacon whooped into the microphone. He tossed it back to Tyler and jogged up the bleachers, grateful as people parted the way to make room. At the top, he met Hannah at the railing.
“You mean it?” She bent down and he cradled her sweet, tear-stained face in his hands. “You’ll be mine?” More tears flowed as she nodded, and he brushed a swift kiss across her mouth. “I promise I’ll make you so damn happy.”
A giggle-sob parted her lips. “You already have.” Hannah traced his jaw with her fingertips and looked him straight in the eyes. “I love you, Superman.”
The declaration was like a balm to his soul, filling Deacon until he was near bursting. Unable to contain his emotions without losing it in front of everyone, he pushed up and claimed Hannah’s mouth, sealing their engagement with a promise.
Epilogue
The old gym was transformed once again. As Deacon led Hannah through the vine-covered pergola, he couldn’t take his eyes off her face. Every newly discovered decoration made her smile brighten. Last night, after the concert and still flying over their engagement, she’d told him all about her secret mission and plans for tonight. She’d blushed adorably, and he’d kissed the trail of crimson down her neck.
Thank God for Paris. There was a thought he never thought he’d have, but it was the damn truth. Without her trip, she might not have ever decided to shake up their friendship, and where would he be now? Lonely, empty, and missing Hannah.
“Is it everything you hoped it’d be?” he asked, guiding her to a pair of open seats at a nearby table around the edge of the room. A DJ was spinning songs in the corner, and center court was filled with people.
Hannah set down her purse and smiled as she slid her arms around his waist. “It is, but it also could’ve been covered in fishing lures and I’d be just as happy. As long as I’m with you, everything is as I’d hoped it would be.”
The combination of her words and the love in her eyes astounded him. How this perfect creature loved him like she did was a miracle, one he’d never stop being grateful for. Deacon swept her hair over her shoulder and dropped a kiss on her delicate collarbone. The slightest hint of funnel cake was mixed in with her usual sweet scent, and he grinned.
They’d spent the day together, him and Hannah, showing Max their favorite rides and games at the carnival. They’d eaten their weight in funnel cake and snuck in as many covert kisses as they could, but they’d waited until they’d returned to her house before telling Max about their engagement. They’d wanted to make the day as special for him as they could.
As he’d predicted, his son had been thrilled. Deacon wasn’t sure if Max understood everything that would change, but he grasped one thing right away: he was going to have a mommy, just like Lizzie.
Max’s arms had been around Hannah’s neck before they’d even finished talking. When his sweet voice rang out crystal clear, “I wuvins you, Mommy,” there’d been no stopping her tears. Deacon could admit he’d gotten emotional, too.
Pressing another kiss to her shoulder, he took Hannah’s hand and led her out onto the dance floor. A slow song was playing, his personal favorite, because it meant he could hold his fiancée close.
“So, tell me,” he murmured a few moments later, letting his lips brush the shell of her ear, “does this mean Operation Find Your Happy is over?”
Hannah shivered at his touch. “Since I’m incandescently happy, I’d say it is.”
He nipped her earlobe, grinning at her sharp intake of breath, then leaned back to look into her eyes. Eyes shining with love. “You never needed the makeup or clothes, you know. I love you every way I can take you. I just needed to get my head out of my ass.” She smiled at that, her eyes going soft, and he said, “But please tell me the lingerie is permanent.”
Hannah laughed. “Yes, Superman, the frilly panties stay.”
“Score!”
Her head fell back with her giggles, strawberry-blonde curls tickling his arm, and Deacon swore he grew five feet taller. There was nothing better than the sound of her laugh, and if it took acting like an idiot
to hear it, he’d happily act like a goofball for the rest of his days.
Cuddling her close, his fingertips skimmed across the exposed skin of her back, and he bit down a groan. With her parents babysitting Max just across the street, it made sense to stay there tonight instead of heading back to the bus or getting a hotel room. But his body ached for hers.
When he’d asked for their blessing, Bill and Lois had given it instantly. Last night they’d officially welcomed him to the family, and over dinner this evening, the five of them had talked wedding plans. Still, Deacon respected them too much to sleep outright in Hannah’s bedroom. His and Max’s things were across the hall in the guest room. That didn’t mean he didn’t plan on sneaking over in the middle of the night. A man was only so strong.
Thankfully, he was 99 percent sure Bill didn’t own a shotgun.
The slow song ended and a fast one began. Hannah glanced beyond his shoulder and beamed. “Can we take pictures now? The line doesn’t look that long, and I want one for a frame.”
“As you wish,” Deacon replied, earning another one of her laughs for the reference. She’d always had a thing for Wesley, but then, what woman didn’t love The Princess Bride?
While they waited in line, watching couples pose for the photographer, Deacon couldn’t help remembering another dance, and another picture he’d taken with the wrong girl.
If he’d opened his eyes sooner, so many things would’ve been different. But, as Hannah said, then they wouldn’t have Max. His son was the light of his life and he’d never regret anything that brought him into it, so Deacon would have to settle for thanking his lucky stars that Hannah loved him through his idiocy. And make sure every day of their future together counted.
Hannah’s sudden stillness, followed by a foreign hand coasting across his arm snapped him out of his trip down memory lane.
“Deacon Latrell. Long time no see.” A short blonde with a pixie cut squeezed his elbow, and he promptly shook her off. Undeterred, she said, “I hoped I’d run into you tonight.”
“Me, too,” another voice cut in, and Deacon glanced at the brunette at her side. “I bought tickets for your concert tomorrow. I think the whole town did.”
“Great,” he muttered, scowling at their ridiculous display. Batting their eyelashes, playing with their hair. Did they think this made them look hot?
As the blonde’s painted lips curved into a grin, Deacon suddenly recognized them. Lisa Michaels and Julianne Simms had been on the cheerleading squad with his ex. They also used to torment Hannah.
“We heard about your split with Krista,” Lisa said. “Can’t say that I’m surprised. She always was a ruthless one, but I don’t guess I need to tell you that, huh?”
Julianne nudged her friend aside. “It’s a shame we never got together in high school,” she said, shifting in such a way as to brush against him. “I used to have such a crush on you. But maybe we can make up for lost time now.”
Deacon’s vision swam with red. They had to have seen Hannah standing there. His arm, the same one Lisa had groped, was slung around her waist. And they would’ve known who she was, too, because Hannah had never been far from his side, even back in high school. His jaw ticked and his back teeth clenched, thinking of the many ways he could teach these women a few manners.
But then Hannah…his sweet, beautiful, future bride…turned in his arms and shook her head. The calm to his storm. They locked eyes, and the first thing Deacon noticed was that there wasn’t even a hint of insecurity in her expression. For once, she seemed to know her worth.
She believed he loved her. She wore his ring. That was enough for her.
Sadly, it wasn’t completely enough for him.
Smiling, Deacon slid his arms lower, settling them over the curve of his fiancée’s ass. He leaned down, nuzzling her nose, and said, “You two must not have been at the free throw championship yesterday.”
Lisa, clearly the brazen one of the duo, coughed. “No,” she said, sounding a touch frazzled, “but I’m sure you won. No one was better than number eleven in high school. You remember, I used to cheer for all your games.”
“Actually, I didn’t enter,” he told her. “I shot a few hoops, but I left the competition to the rest of the guys.” Trailing his gaze across Hannah’s pretty face, and down her slender throat to where her heartbeat fluttered, Deacon shook his head in amazement. “But I did win. Something a hell of a lot better than a trophy, too. I won this beautiful woman’s heart.”
As Hannah’s smile grew, her eyes overflowing with love, Deacon bent his head and kissed her. Right there in the photo line, he staked his claim, letting Lisa and Julianne and anyone else who might’ve missed the memo know that he was very much taken.
Deacon Latrell was off the market. Head over heels in love with Hannah Fisher, the stunning woman so many people looked over, but who shined brighter than anyone he’d ever known. He was hers, and she was his, and that made him the happiest man in Willow Creek.
When he finally lifted his head, Hannah blinked in a daze. The women were long gone, the line had moved on without them, and neither one of them gave a damn about it.
“Want to get out of here?” she asked, the slide of her eyes from his mouth to his eyes like a physical touch on his skin. Deacon bit back a groan.
“I thought you wanted pictures,” he told her, pulling her body against him so she felt what she did to him. They both moaned. “What about your mission?”
“Mission shmission,” Hannah said with a silly grin. “I’ve already found my happy…” Pressing onto her toes, she whispered against his ear, “Now I’d like to make you happy. Very, very happy.”
“Check please,” Deacon called out, raising his head to address the room as Hannah giggled into his chest.
Keeping an arm around her back, he led her out of the gym and to Bill’s car, the sound of her tinkling laugh trailing behind them. By far, it was the best Harvest Moon Dance in history.
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Acknowledgments
In the entirety of this roller-coaster author life, there are two things that fill me with equal parts joy and terror: the slow, constant blink of the cursor at the start of a new novel…and the bittersweet request from my editor for Acknowledgments. The first symbolizes endless possibilities, countless stories to tell and twists to explore, and the impossible task of choosing one. The second represents all the incredible people who helped a particular story come to life—and the truly scary prospect of accidentally leaving someone out. If I do that now, please know that it is simply my homeschooling mama brain at fault, and that I appreciate each and every person who speaks encouragement, assistance, and love into my life. I’m so very blessed!
This book wouldn’t exist without Cindi Madsen. My author twin talked me through this plot during a long, fun-filled week in Vegas, listening as I went on…and on…and on about character development and talked myself in circles. Sadly, this is nothing new, as she puts up with my overthinking brain via email, text, and phone calls throughout the year, but this time I had her cornered! (He-he.) Cindi, thank you for the gift of your friendship. This journey would not be the same without you!
Rebecca Yarros and Molly E. Lee also talked me through this book that week, listening to me with wide eyes and placating smiles as I kept coming back to my heroine throwing up on the hero’s boots after their first kiss. Every book I write starts with a scene I can’t wait to write, and for whatever reason, that was the scene for this book. Thankfully, they helped me find a fun, believable, and not too gross way to make this happen. Love you girls!
One of the things I’m most proud of in this writing journey is the amazing friendships I’ve made, and Melissa West is someone who has been with me since the very beginning…over six years. Wow. Time flies! Melissa, your talent amazes me. Your heart and humor are a gift. Thank you for alwa
ys being there to talk about work and life, real-life family and crazy fictional characters. Your suggestions early on made this book so much stronger, and I look forward to many more instances of spoiling “exciting news” in the future! <3
That all-important week in Vegas also had me bugging my super editors, Stacy Abrams and Alycia Tornetta, for their thoughts on my ever-changing plot over many lunches and dinners, and their endless patience and humor was appreciated as always. I don’t know what I did to deserve these incredibly talented women in my corner, but I am ever so grateful. The hilarious and wicked smart Candace Havens gave me fabulous advice, too, over breakfast while we plotted a future book, and I can’t wait to work closer with her on that project in the future. Thank you, ladies, for sharing your brilliance!
Entangled is truly the most amazing, supportive publisher ever, and I’m honored to be a part of the family that the incomparable Liz Pelletier built. Thank you for believing in me, Liz, and for making my dreams come true! Huge shoutout to Heather Ricco, the original ninja; Jessica Turner, marketing genius; and Melanie Smith, my financial goddess who has the patience of a saint and the heart of a teacher. I don’t know what I’d do without you ladies!
Staci Murden, thank you for reading these pages as I wrote them, helping with Max’s adorable lingo, and for giving me your thoughts and encouragement. You kept me going, girl, and I don’t know if I ever would’ve reached The End without your sweetly worded, gentle nudges. One of these days, we are getting together in real life!
Crystal Perkins, thank you for letting me borrow your name, and for all your help and support over the years. Tyler’s book, Accidentally Married on Purpose, wouldn’t be the same without your incredible Vegas advice and suggestions! Thank you for loving the book community and being such a champion for authors.
Cari Quinn, I’m such a fan of yours. Thank you for writing fun, sexy books that inspire me…particularly ones with kickass drummer heroines like Jazz!
I seriously don’t know what I’d do without my agent of awesome, Suzie Townsend. She has been a godsend and a blessing to me these past few years, and it’s an awesome feeling to know that someone is in my corner 100 percent, no matter what. Suzie, you are a true partner and friend, and the future looks so bright with you by my side.
The Nanny Arrangement (Country Blues) Page 20
