Shadow Soldier

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Shadow Soldier Page 3

by Carol Lynne


  Aaron found it hard to believe one of the eligible bachelors in Cattle Valley hadn’t already snatched Deacon up. “Have you dated anyone since you’ve been here?”

  “Until you walked into the store the other day, I hadn’t even been tempted to ask anyone out. You’re not the only one working through shit.” Deacon lifted Aaron’s hand off his chest and brought it to his mouth. He placed a kiss on Aaron’s palm before resettling it in its original position.

  “So why me?” Aaron needed to know. There was absolutely nothing special about him.

  “I could ask you the same thing.”

  Aaron ran his thumb back and forth over Deacon’s shirt-covered nipple. “I guess for me, it’s because you’ve been there. You have a good idea of the things I’ve seen, but you don’t ask about them.”

  “Is that all?”

  Aaron nestled his face against Deacon’s neck, loving the feel of Deacon’s arm as it wrapped around him. “I feel grounded when I’m next to you, safe in a way I haven’t experienced in a very long time.” He kissed Deacon’s jaw. “Your turn.”

  It took a moment for Deacon to answer. “My life is…complicated. There are still people out there who count on me to be there when they need me. Unfortunately, I get so caught up in the bigger picture I forget to live my own life. When you walked into my store and I looked into those big eyes of yours, I wanted something of my own for the first time in years. Does that answer your question?”

  Aaron hated to burst Deacon’s bubble, but he rarely saw people at the store. Still, if it made Deacon feel special to believe the town needed him, Aaron would support him in that belief. “You want me?”

  Deacon grabbed Aaron under the arms and lifted him until they were facing each other. “I want every inch of you.”

  Aaron’s ribs vibrated as the deep timbre of Deacon’s voice moved through him and settled in his cock. Sex. It was something he’d barely thought of since the sniper had opened fire on a group of soldiers Aaron had considered family.

  “But I’m going to wait.” Deacon kissed Aaron chastely on the lips. “Because we’ve both got some healing to do and nothing’s ever solved with sex, only postponed.”

  Aaron groaned. Healing was the last thing on his mind. “Give me just ten minutes of thinking about something other than my crappy life.”

  Deacon brushed Aaron’s cheek with his finger. “Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up, and we’ll get started on that table.”

  Staring into Deacon’s eyes, Aaron’s heart ached because he knew the truth. If he slept, there would be no table building and, more than likely, no handsome man in his bed when he woke up, because with sleep came the truth, and the truth would never set him free. “Why don’t you go on back to the shop, and I’ll give you a call later.”

  Deacon studied Aaron for several moments. “One day, you’ll wake up and realise you slept through the night. And although everything won’t be perfect, it’ll be enough to get you through the day.”

  “Is that what happened for you?”

  “Yeah. My dreams are far from perfect, but they no longer hold me hostage.”

  Aaron bit his bottom lip. “Maybe someday.” He took a deep breath. “You know what, I’m not really tired anymore. Let’s head over to the store and you can show me what you can do with those big hands of yours.”

  * * * *

  Deacon double-checked Aaron’s measurement before marking the block of wood with a carpenter’s pencil. “Okay. You think you’re ready to operate the chop saw?”

  “Have I told you how important my hands are to my job? Plus, I’m pretty attached to them, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

  “If you follow the safety rules I’ve taught you, there will be no errant limbs on the floor once you’re done. I promise.” He lowered his goggles over his eyes. Despite Aaron’s fear of power tools, it had been a nice afternoon.

  Aaron lined the blade up with the mark Deacon had made on the wood. He wiped his brow with the back of his forearm. “Here goes nothing.”

  Deacon watched as the blade began to spin and lower. Within seconds, Aaron released the trigger and presented the finished product. “How’d I do?” Aaron asked, pride in his voice.

  The simple cut was more than the beginnings of a table, it was the first step in rebuilding Aaron’s life. The second step was Deacon coming clean about his probe into Aaron’s background, but he wasn’t ready to travel that road just yet. “It’s perfect. I knew you could do it.”

  “And look.” Aaron held up his hands. “They’re still there. How great is that?” His laughter filled Deacon’s darkened soul with light.

  “You have a nice laugh. You should do it more often.” Deacon’s beeper vibrated in his pocket as he reached for the next leg. “You think you can handle this one all on your own?”

  Aaron smiled. “Yeah. I think I can.”

  “Good. I’m gonna go find a nice piece we can use for the top.” Deacon started to walk off, but Aaron stopped him with a hand to his arm.

  “Thanks.”

  “Hey, you made the cut all on your own.”

  “Not for the lesson, although it’s been fun. I meant for dragging me out of the house.”

  “I didn’t, you did that all on your own. I simply gave you an alternative.” Deacon gestured to the piece of wood. “If you want to measure the other three, I’ll be back in a few minutes to help you cut them.”

  “We’ll see. I might get brave and do it all on my own.”

  Deacon didn’t doubt Aaron could do a lot of things on his own if only he’d have more faith in himself. “Give me ten minutes. I think I have a top that’ll be perfect, but it’s in the back storage shed across the alley.”

  “Sounds good.” Aaron turned his attention to the table leg as Deacon left the room.

  Deacon made his way out the back door to the shed. The structure, made of cement block, housed many miscellaneous items but more importantly, it served as Deacon’s Bat Cave of sorts. He unlocked the heavy-duty padlock on the steel door and flipped on the overhead light.

  Turning over an old tree stump in the back of the shed, Deacon reached into its hollow and removed the cell phone. To some, the extent to which he guarded the phone would seem overkill, but they would be wrong, dead wrong. The phone stored not only the number to the President’s direct line, but all his handlers and agents.

  “Black’s Hardware,” a deep voice answered.

  “I need a plumber,” Deacon told Midnight.

  “We’ve got a problem.”

  Deacon eased down onto the stump and set his cane aside. For the first time in years, Deacon resented the reminder of who he actually was and how much power he wielded. “What now?”

  “Sully’s been arrested in Colombia.”

  “Legitimately or do they know who he really is?” Sully was one of their best, a sniper who had a gift for blending into the background.

  “They know,” Midnight informed him.

  “Then go get him.” Deacon hated moments like this. “If you can’t rescue him, kill him.” It was protocol for situations in which an agent was captured, but it didn’t make it any easier.

  “Figured you’d say that. There’s only one problem. I don’t trust anyone but myself to get him outta there, and if I go, there’ll be no one to screen the day to day bullshit. Well, except you.”

  “I no longer do that, or have you forgotten?” Deacon had been ready to walk away from the agency after Bobby’s death. A special request from the President and limited duties were the only things keeping him at the agency at all.

  “I haven’t forgotten. I’m asking you to do this as a personal favour to me. I can’t leave unless you do this.”

  Deacon rubbed his forehead. In all the years he’d known and worked with Midnight, never once had the man asked for anything. “It’ll have to be done from here.” Explaining to Aaron why he was suddenly on the phone all the time would be tricky, but their budding relationship was too important to walk away from n
ow. “How long do you expect to be gone?”

  “Three weeks max.”

  Although it was far too early to say so for sure, Deacon had a good feeling about his future with Aaron. After devoting his entire adult life to the service of his country and losing a man he loved in the process, Deacon was tired. “So you know, you get Sully back in one piece before he spills any information, and I’ll inform the President that I’ve chosen you as my replacement.”

  “You think I’m ready for that?”

  “Hell, you do the work, might as well get the title and pay increase that goes along with it.” Deacon leaned on his cane and got to his feet. “Give me the rest of the day to settle a few things here.”

  “Will do. I need to make some arrangements anyway.”

  “Good luck. I know how much Sully means to you.” Deacon ended the call and pocketed the phone. Before leaving the shed, he found the small slab of mahogany he’d had left over from the headboard. “Perfect.”

  Deacon balanced the wood on his shoulder and left the shed. He had twelve hours to figure out what to tell Aaron, and he’d need every second of it.

  * * * *

  “So what’s next?” Aaron set the legs on the worktable and wiped his hands on his jeans. The day may have started out like hell, but Deacon had proven once again that he had the power to set him at ease.

  “Next, I have to turn them on the lathe, but I can do that in the morning. Why don’t we get some dinner and watch a movie?” Deacon turned the light off over the saw and covered the machine with a drop cloth. “You like pork chops?”

  The mention of food set Aaron’s stomach into a frenzy. A loud growl sounded, prompting a chuckle out of him. “Excuse me. I guess I’m hungrier than I thought.”

  Deacon led Aaron out of the shop. When they reached the stairs to his apartment, he motioned for Aaron to precede him. “I’m sorry, but it takes me a while. The sight of this old fool trying to navigate something as simple as a staircase isn’t a vision I want stuck in your head.”

  Aaron started up the steps, giving Deacon his pride. “You’ve never asked me to apologise for the baggage I carry, so please don’t do it for yours.” He reached the top landing. “Should I go in or wait for you?”

  The tapping of Deacon’s cane grew louder as he neared the top. “Go on in. I’m right behind you.”

  Aaron opened the door and went inside. The apartment was surprisingly cold to the eye. He’d imagined a space filled with Deacon’s creations and warmed by the love that went into each piece. Instead, it held no personal touches. He turned when the door shut. “It’s bigger than I imagined.”

  “Big enough.” Deacon put a hand to the small of Aaron’s back. “Would you keep me company in the kitchen?”

  Aaron turned away from the sterile living room. “Only if you’ll let me help.”

  “Of course.” Deacon kissed Aaron’s temple. “It’s been a long time since I’ve worked side by side with someone over a meal.”

  “How long?” Aaron followed Deacon. Like the living room, the kitchen was utilitarian with no personal touches added.

  “A little over five years.” Deacon opened the refrigerator and removed a package of pork chops. After retrieving a cast iron grill from the cupboard, he leaned on the counter. “I haven’t let anyone close to me since I lost my partner, Bobby, in the car wreck that fucked up my leg.”

  “I’m sorry.” Aaron had assumed Deacon’s leg had been injured in the military.

  Deacon shrugged and lit the gas stove under the grill. “I try not to think about it.” He unwrapped the chops and seasoned them with salt and pepper. “Would you mind fixing the salad?”

  “Not at all.” There were several questions on the tip of Aaron’s tongue, but he didn’t know if Deacon would answer them or push him away in response. “Is that why your home is so bare of pictures and stuff?”

  Deacon paused in the act of checking the flame. “This isn’t a home, it’s an apartment, somewhere to sleep and eat. My home died with Bobby.”

  Aaron waited for Deacon to turn away from the stove before touching his hand. “Did you make my new bed for you and Bobby?” He knew the answer could very well change the way he felt about his new purchase.

  Deacon turned and put his hands on Aaron’s hips. “No. I built that headboard hoping I’d be able to sleep through the night if I got rid of everything that reminded me of Bobby.”

  “But you decided to stay in the apartment, knowing you couldn’t use it. Does that mean you still don’t sleep at night?” Aaron held his breath. He understood what it was like to have ghosts run your life, but Aaron’s didn’t include men he was in love with. He wondered if he was getting his hopes up for something impossible for Deacon to give.

  “No, I don’t really sleep much, but then I haven’t in probably thirty years.” Deacon set his cane aside. He leaned his hip against the counter and slid his arms around Aaron. “I’ll never forget Bobby, but it’s time to go on with my life.”

  “I don’t really sleep either, so maybe we can not sleep together sometime.” Aaron embraced Deacon in return. He rested his cheek against Deacon’s chest and closed his eyes. “Being close to you makes me feel good.”

  Deacon tilted Aaron’s chin up and leant down for a kiss. “Let’s get dinner out of the way so we can spend the rest of the evening feeling good.”

  Aaron pulled out of Deacon’s arms hopeful. “I’d like that.”

  * * * *

  After a rushed dinner, Deacon led Aaron into the living room. “Would you like to watch TV or would you rather I put in a movie?”

  Aaron kicked his shoes off and curled up on the sofa beside Deacon. “TV’s fine.” He snuggled close, tucking himself under Deacon’s arm. “I think I could sit here with you and watch paint dry and feel perfectly content.”

  Deacon usually watched one of the twenty-four hour news stations in the evening to keep on top of what was going on around the world, but he doubted reports of the ongoing military actions in the Middle East would be good for Aaron. He settled on the DIY station. “This okay?”

  Aaron kissed Deacon’s neck, using his tongue to tickle the skin. “As long as you don’t mind if I do this.”

  Deacon tilted his head to the side. “I don’t mind at all.” It had been a long time since he’d felt a lover’s touch. He’d tried to hook-up a few times, but always chickened out before getting undressed, unable to face the disgust of another man at the sight of his scars. It was different with Aaron. He wasn’t afraid of Aaron being turned off by his injuries, but he worried it might prompt horrific memories Aaron wasn’t prepared to deal with. Deacon grabbed Aaron’s hand. “I need you to feel something.”

  “Mmm,” Aaron moaned. “I’ve been waiting to feel you for a couple of days.”

  Deacon chuckled as he bypassed his hardening cock. “There’ll be plenty of time for that later. This is what I need you to touch.” He settled Aaron’s hand on his leg. Deacon knew the hollows in his thigh muscles could be felt through the heavy denim and waited for Aaron’s reaction.

  “Does it hurt?” Aaron slid his palm up and down Deacon’s leg, in essence doing a blind examination of his injury.

  “It’s tender in places,” Deacon acknowledged. “I wanted you to know what you’re getting into.”

  Aaron stared up at Deacon. “I’ve seen worse.”

  “I’m sure you have. I just didn’t want to surprise you with it.” Deacon spread his legs slightly when Aaron moved to stroke his cock through his jeans.

  “I don’t freak out over stuff like that anymore. I think working at the fire station has helped with that.”

  Deacon pulled Aaron’s T-shirt off over his head. He brushed the pale-pebbled nipples with his thumb, delighting in Aaron’s deep groan. Confident in Aaron’s response, Deacon pinched one of his nipples. Aaron’s body jerked.

  “They’re sensitive,” Aaron explained. He moved to his knees and directed Deacon’s head to his chest. “Bite them.”

  Deaco
n rubbed his heavy five o’clock shadow over Aaron’s chest before taking the protruding nub between his teeth. He laved the tip with his tongue as he bit down.

  Aaron cried out, thrusting his groin against Deacon’s trapped arm. Deacon manoeuvred himself until his arm was free and pushed up between Aaron’s legs, giving Aaron something to grind against. He kneaded Aaron’s ass while he continued to bite and suck the twin pink discs.

  “Please tell me you’re planning to take me to bed.” Aaron continued to hump against Deacon’s arm.

  Deacon released Aaron’s nipple. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t take Aaron to bed until he’d told him about digging into his past, but how could he do that without telling Aaron of his secret occupation? Temptation would be the death of him. He removed his hold on Aaron’s ass and settled Aaron down beside him.

  “You’re gonna send me home, aren’t you?”

  “I need to tell you something.” Deacon tried to get the words out, but the dejected expression on Aaron’s face threatened his resolve. “Something’s come up, and I’m not sure how much time I’ll have to spend with you for the next month or so. I think it would be better if we held off on spending the night together for now.” Maybe he’d figure out a way to break the news to him later. “I’d still like to see you when I can. I’m just not sure how much time I’ll have.” He hoped the offer would soften the lost look on Aaron’s gorgeous face.

  With his bottom lip between his teeth, Aaron nodded and stood. “I should probably go ahead and get out of your hair then.”

  Deacon scrambled for his cane when Aaron took off towards the door. “Wait.”

  The door opened and closed before Deacon could get to his feet. “Shit,” he yelled, throwing his cane across the room.

  Chapter Three

  Aaron walked into the station for his shift and went straight to the ambulance. He climbed into the back and began to take inventory. It wasn’t necessary, he already knew that. Jakob Cox had worked the previous shift and he always made Aaron’s job easier by thoroughly cleaning and restocking before leaving.

 

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