Love Me Again

by Jaci Burton

  "This is amazing," Loretta said, smiling as Deacon wiped his hands after he'd washed them.

  "I helped, Mama."

  "You did?" Loretta looked at Hazel, then at Deacon, who nodded.

  "She's a good apprentice. I might hire her."

  Loretta laughed. "Well, she's a little young to work in construction, but I'm not at all surprised. She loves doing anything dirty or greasy."

  "It was very greasy," Hazel said with a wide grin.

  Loretta leaned down to rub a spot of grease on Hazel's cheek. "You need a shower before dinner."

  "Okay."

  Hazel disappeared down the hall. Otis stayed in the kitchen where he'd been told to until Deacon took mercy on him and called the dog outside with him while he packed up his truck.

  Loretta followed him. "Thank you again for doing this."

  "Not a problem. This weekend I can start working on the barn."

  "And you'll send me an invoice, right?"

  He closed the truck door and turned to face her. "Yeah."

  "I'm making grilled chicken and salad for dinner. Would you like to stay?"

  "Loretta, you don't have to feed me every time I come over."

  "But you're here during dinner. How could I not invite you? You haven't eaten yet, have you?"

  "No. But that doesn't mean--"

  "Good. Then you'll stay for dinner, right?"

  He didn't know what to say to that, and he wasn't sure whether she was inviting him because she wanted him here or because she felt some sense of obligation. Still, he was hungry.

  "Sure."

  "Great."

  They stood and stared at each other, and it was almost like Loretta wanted to say something to him, so he waited.

  "Uh, I cleaned out the chicken coop."

  "Did you?" He didn't think the chicken coop was what had been on her mind.

  "Yes. Would you like to see it?"

  "Sure."

  He followed her down the gravel path toward the back of the house, where the coop was located.

  She'd done a good job. All the weeds and old hay had been removed. She'd thoroughly washed out the house where the hens would be located, and it looked brand-new. He walked inside and looked around, checking the wires and fence to make sure there were no holes. It was solid.

  "Ready for some chickens now," he said as he closed the gate.

  She smiled. "Yes, it is, as Hazel has mentioned no less than fifteen times today alone."

  "I'm sure she's anxious."

  "I actually am, too. I'm looking forward to fresh eggs, so we'll probably pick up some chickens in a couple of weeks."

  "Why not right away?"

  "Hazel's going to see her father. I'll wait until she comes back. She'll want to be here to help me pick them up."

  "Oh. Yeah, she would. Well, let me know when you get them. I'll come over for breakfast."

  She looked surprised, then smiled. "Really?"

  For a fraction of a second, he enjoyed seeing that look of utter joy on her face. "I was kidding, Loretta."

  "Oh. Sure. Of course you were." She headed back to the house. He followed, and he could have sworn he saw disappointment on her face.

  Man, he didn't know how to act around her. It was like they were two strangers, which was odd as hell, because he'd known Loretta better than he'd ever known anyone. They'd told each other everything, had trusted each other with all their dreams and all their disappointments.

  At least that's what he'd thought until that day . . .

  "Hey, where did you two go?" Hazel asked, brushing her damp hair away from her face.

  "I showed Deacon the chicken coop."

  "Ohhh, that's right. Did you know we're gonna get some chickens, Deacon?"

  "I heard all about that. Are you excited about a rooster waking you up at dawn every morning?"

  Hazel nodded. "The more animals you get, the more chores you gotta do."

  Nothing fazed this kid. He admired her more every time he saw her.

  "Hazel, come wash the lettuce," Loretta said.

  "Okay, Mama."

  "Anything I can do?" Deacon asked.

  "You know how to slice some fat chicken breasts for grilling?"

  "I'm pretty sure I can handle it." He washed his hands, then followed Loretta's instructions. If there was one thing he'd learned from his mom, it was that when you were in someone else's kitchen, you did it their way.

  "Where's the grill?" he asked.

  "Out back."

  He grilled the chicken while Loretta and Hazel fixed the salad. He had to admit grilled chicken was one of his favorite meals, so he had no complaints about staying, other than feeling a little odd that she'd asked him to--again. He wished he could get over this uncertain feeling where Loretta was concerned, but that's where they were. He could have left things alone, but he was the one who'd offered to train the dog and work on her place, so he'd have to get used to being around her.

  When the chicken was done he brought it inside.

  "I'm so hungry," Hazel said.

  "Me, too."

  "Good thing I bought plenty of chicken, then," Loretta said. "And Hazel and I made a monstrous salad. Mainly because she's finally old enough to chop things, so she likes using the knife."

  "And I'm good at it, plus I'm very careful because Mama said if I'm not I can't use it anymore. I sliced the tomatoes and the cucumbers."

  Deacon peered into the salad bowl. "They look magnificent."

  Hazel beamed a smile. "Thanks."

  "Let's eat," Loretta said. "Otis, out."

  Deacon was impressed that Otis listened to Loretta's command. The dog made his way into the living room, circled a few times, then lay down.

  Deacon looked over at Loretta. "Been practicing that one?"

  "Repeatedly."

  "Seems to be working."

  "Only sometimes. I think he only did it tonight because he wanted to impress you."

  Deacon laughed. "I don't think he's trying to impress me. I think he's trying to impress you."

  "Uh-huh. We'll see. He could stop eating my shoes. That would impress me."

  Hazel filled her plate with salad, then looked over at Deacon. "He chewed the heel off of one of Mama's bestest fancy shoes. The Loo-boo-tuns."

  Deacon had no idea what those were, but from the grimace on Loretta's face, he wasn't about to ask. Instead, he concentrated on the food in front of him, which looked fantastic. In addition to the chicken and the salad, they also had green beans and a fruit salad. All together it looked like a feast.

  "Sorry I didn't make any potatoes," Loretta said.

  "I actually prefer more fruits and vegetables with my protein."

  "That's what Mama says, too," Hazel said. "Though I do like French fries. And tater tots."

  "Well, who doesn't? But they're better for you in small doses."

  "Now you sound just like Mama. Anyways, I like broccoli. And salad. And I really like fruit."

  "Me, too." Deacon spooned some fruit salad into his bowl. "What's your favorite fruit?"

  "Watermelon. What's yours?"

  "Blueberries. So don't eat them all."

  Hazel giggled.

  Deacon looked over at Loretta, who was smiling at him. His stomach tightened, and he focused instead on his food.

  "This is really good, Loretta."

  "Thank you. The chicken is great. Thanks for grilling it."

  "You're welcome."

  After dinner, he helped her clean up, then hung out with Hazel and Otis until Hazel yawned and stretched out on the sofa. He watched TV with her for a few seconds, then stood.

  "I need to go. I'll see you soon, Hazel."

  She yawned again. "Okay. See ya, Deacon."

  Deacon went into the kitchen. Loretta was at the table working on some papers.

  "I'm heading out."

  She stood. "Okay. I'll walk you out."

  As they made their way outside, Deacon noticed that Hazel was already asleep on the sofa and Otis was
lying on the floor at her feet.

  "That was fast," he said. "I just said good night to her."

  Loretta nodded. "She plays hard all day, and she crashes fast."

  He opened his truck door. "Thanks for dinner--again."

  "Thanks for fixing my kitchen plumbing. The new faucet is great. I really appreciate it."

  "Like I mentioned earlier, I'll come out this weekend to fix Hazel's window and work on the barn if that's okay."

  "Hey, it's not my timetable, it's yours, so whatever works for you."

  "Okay, I'll text you and we'll work something out."

  "Sounds good."

  He lingered, though he didn't know why.

  "Deacon?"

  "Yeah."

  "Do you think at some point we should talk?"

  He frowned. "About?"

  "You know . . . the past. What happened between us."

  And things between them had been going so well. "I don't think dredging that up is a good idea, Loretta."

  He had his truck door between them. She stepped around it so she was standing right in front of him. "I disagree. You're working next door to me, and now you're fixing things around here and helping Hazel with her dog. It might be time for us to have a talk about what happened. What I did and why I did it."

  He really did not want to talk about this. "I know why you did it. Because you fell in love with someone else."

  She looked down at the ground, then raised her gaze to his. "That's not exactly what happened."

  He frowned. "What exactly did happen, then?"

  She looked toward the open front door. "How about we talk about it this weekend when you're here? I don't want to get into it with Hazel just inside."

  Oh, great. Now she'd opened up the past and then shut it down just as fast. "Sure. Whatever you want."

  She laid her hand on his arm. "I don't want to hurt you by dredging it up. I just think it would be good for both of us to clear the air."

  "You mean good for you. You feel the need to get some guilt off your chest by explaining things that can't be explained."

  He saw the hurt in her eyes, and he wasn't going to take responsibility for that, because he hadn't put it there.

  "I deserved that. Maybe that's why we need to talk it out. Because I know I hurt you. And maybe I can't explain it in a way that you'll find forgivable. But I'd like to try."

  Well, shit. "Okay. We'll talk."

  Her hand still lingered on his forearm. She gave it a squeeze. "Thank you. So I'll see you this weekend."

  "Sure. See you, Loretta."

  He climbed into his truck and wished like hell she'd go into the house. Instead, she stood outside, the wind blowing strands of her hair across her face. He wanted to sit there and stare at her, because she was still so goddamn beautiful she made him forget to breathe.

  Instead, he backed his truck down the driveway and got the hell out of there. He needed to get home, grab a beer, and find some goddamn sanity.

  At home he went straight for the fridge, grabbed a beer, and set it down on the coffee table in front of the TV. He pulled off his work boots and popped open the can, taking several long swallows.

  He grabbed the remote and found a baseball game, trying to let the sound drown out his thoughts.

  He made it a half inning before Loretta invaded his head.

  He'd been doing just fine since she got back in town. He'd been cool and calm and had kept her at an emotional distance. Sure, her kid was cute. He could get emotionally attached to Hazel and her dog, because Hazel wasn't part of his past.

  Hazel had never hurt him. And the dog was pretty damn adorable. He could compartmentalize Hazel and the dog as if they weren't related to Loretta. Detaching himself emotionally from Loretta had been fairly easy.

  Until tonight. Until she'd brought up wanting to talk about the past. He knew damn well if they actually started talking to each other--really talking to each other--he'd have to emotionally engage with her.

  He wasn't sure he could do that.

  Because there was a part of him that was still in love with Loretta, and always had been. And he was afraid if she started talking to him, he might listen. And if he listened, he might just find a way to forgive her.

  And that would be really damn dangerous to his heart.

  Chapter 11

  * * *

  LORETTA HAD RUSHED home after she closed the bookstore at noon. She cleaned the house from top to bottom, which was ridiculous since Deacon probably wouldn't pay the slightest bit of attention to the state of the house. But she had all this nervous energy and she needed to do something with it, so cleaning was as good a place to expend it as anywhere else.

  She intended for the two of them to talk. Indoors, at the table or on the sofa, like two adults. Or so she hoped. She had stopped at the liquor store and bought beer and wine, then at the grocery store to pick up some food fixings. She whipped up some salsa and guacamole and put those in the fridge to chill, and now that she knew Deacon ate on the healthy side, she marinated some flank steaks to grill, which would go nicely with an almond and strawberry salad for dinner.

  Now if she could just get her jittery stomach to calm down, maybe she could get through tonight. She needed something to occupy her time. Fortunately, the vegetable garden needed major weeding and some rich, fertile soil, which she'd had delivered the other day, so hopefully that might keep her mind off of Deacon. She changed clothes and headed out back to get started on that task.

  When she heard Deacon pull up, she walked around to the front of the house. He was just getting out of his truck. Her heart did a little flutter at the sight of him. He was wearing worn dark jeans and a navy T-shirt. It looked like he'd already been at work today, because he also wore a thin layer of dust on his clothes.

  "Did you work at the building this morning?"

  He nodded. "I put in a few hours over there to stay on schedule. You look like you've been doing some work yourself."

  "Vegetable garden. Otis has been helping, and not in a good way."

  She looked down at Otis's nose, which was covered in a splotch of dirt.

  Deacon rubbed Otis's ears. "He didn't go with Hazel?"

  "No. Tom is on the road for his campaign, so taking Otis along wasn't an option, unfortunately. Hazel already misses him terribly. She FaceTimed with him early this morning."

  Deacon laughed. "I'm sure Otis enjoyed that."

  "He licked my phone screen, then tried to run off with the phone. So fun."

  "Yeah, I'll bet." He ran his fingers over the dog's head.

  "You're probably tired. Are you sure you're up for this today?"

  His lips curved in that way that made her insides clench. The first time she'd laid eyes on him, he'd dropped that hot grin on her. It was a sexy, confident smile, and even as a boy, he'd looked like a man.

  He was even more a man now.

  "I think I can handle a little hard work, Loretta."

  She'd bet he could handle more than that, which sent her thoughts off in a wayward direction.

  "Of course you can."

  He carried his tools out to the barn. Loretta followed with the keys so she could unlock the barn doors.

  "Ladder's inside."

  "I have my own, but thanks."

  She nodded. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

  "No, I'm good."

  "Okay. I'll be behind the house working on the garden if you need anything."

  "You got it."

  She went back to work, pulling weeds from the beds. Every time she pulled a weed, Otis grabbed it in his mouth and ran off with it. She figured he thought it was some kind of game of catch, though he didn't eat the weeds, just discarded them around the yard and came back for the next one. As long as it amused him and kept him out of trouble, it suited her just fine.

  Eventually Otis got bored with fetching weeds and decided to take a nap under one of the tall, shady oak trees. She continued to work, and when she finally had pulled all the weeds f
rom the garden, she smoothed the dirt with her rake, making sure it was level.

  Then she went into the shed to grab the shovel and started scooping up piles of the very foul-smelling manure and whatever it was that the garden store had told her would make excellent ground soil and fertilizer for her garden.

  Wow. This stuff stank. She would definitely need a shower before dinner tonight. And if she'd been smart, she would have waited until she had the beds cleaned out first and then had them dump this stuff directly into them. Instead, she had to load it one painfully smelly shovelful at a time.

  Sometimes you are not smart, Loretta.

  Probably more often than sometimes. And it was a hot day, too, which meant the craptastic odor wafted up all too often. It even got the attention of Otis, who had awakened from his nap and had come over to take a sniff. He started to step into it.

  "Out," she said.

  His paw lingered just at the entrance to the garden. He looked up at her, and she gave him a stern look.

  "Out," she said again.

  He took a step back. Whether that was because of her command or Otis deciding maybe he didn't want to roll around in the stink, she wasn't sure.

  "Need a hand with that?"

  She turned around and saw Deacon standing there.

  "Oh, I've totally got this handled."

  "Do you? It looks like a big load of dirt, and I'm pretty good with a shovel."

  In her new and improved life she was a total feminist. She could do everything for herself and for her daughter, and she needed no man in her life. But this dirt stunk like shit and she wasn't stupid. The faster she got it done, the better. "I surrender. I'd love some help. There's another shovel in the shed over there."

  He disappeared for a minute and came back with the bigger, heavier shovel, the one she'd bought thinking she could shovel like a boss, only to discover she could barely lift the damn thing. She figured once she'd built up some muscle she'd be able to use that one.

  Deacon dug the shovel into a mound of dirt and lifted it up as if it were a speck of lint, his biceps bulging with the effort.

  She ogled while he threw the dirt into the bed, then effortlessly lifted another large pile of dirt and tossed it in, and then another, sweat pouring down his arms. He didn't seem bothered at all.

  Loretta, on the other hand, was definitely bothered.