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Too sexy... too obvious.
I went to my closet and pulled out something demurer. Caramel colored slacks with a flowing white blouse.
Too serious and dowdy.
Back at my closet again, I reached for a pretty yellow sundress that I’d yet to wear. I took off my white blouse and caramel pants and slipped the cotton dress over my head. It was simple. Nothing fancy. Nothing flashy. Narrow straps at the shoulder held the loose-fitting garment in place. The full skirt fell to just above my knees. And while slightly transparent, it nonetheless gave an aura of angelic innocence.
To add to the innocent appeal, I pulled the elastic band out of my hair, letting the long silky locks fall around my shoulders.
I’ll melt your heart if it kills me, Deacon.
Heading down the hall, I stopped at Deacon’s door and listened.
Silence. But I knew he was in there. I’d seen him enter after returning from football practice.
As determined as I’d been when I left my room, I now stood there frozen and unable to make the next move.
I longed to talk to him, but he was always so cold and unwelcoming. I licked my lips nervously, raised my fist and prepared to knock, but my hand stayed there in midair.
Come on, Brook, I told myself. You have to talk this out with him. You have to.
“Deacon?” I said as I knocked lightly on the door.
“What?” he said with all the usual finesse he’d shown me lately.
“Can I talk to you a minute?”
Silence.
Shit! Come on, Deacon. Give me a break.
“Deacon?”
The door suddenly opened, and he stood there, his bare chest bringing a quick burst of heat to my cheeks while his cold and unforgiving glare froze me to the spot where I stood. Why did he intimidate me so? If it wasn’t for the cold, cold glare, I would run my heated fingers over his muscular chest, trailing them all the way down to the waistband of the baby blue cotton shorts he wore. His football workouts honed his body into a sexy fit well-oiled machine. I swallowed. Hard.
“You have a minute,” he said bluntly. “Go.”
“I... well... Not out here. Can I come in?”
Tightening his jaw, he opened the door wider and backed away to let me in.
“You know,” I said as I entered and looked around his tidy room. “There’s only the two of us now... here at the house... you know... I mean... to run things.”
With a grunt, he nodded and crossed his strong arms over his chest.
Hungering for him, I let my gaze linger for just a moment, but it was enough for him to catch me.
A sardonic grin was his reaction to my hungry gaze. He didn’t even offer me the slightest appreciative glance. Not a peek at my breast. Not a single glance at my legs. Nothing. I wanted to walk out of the room right then and there.
“With Bishop gone,” I managed to go on, “I guess that now makes you the head of the house.”
With another grunt, he uncrossed his arms and shoved his hands deep into his pockets and glared at me... waiting.
Taken aback, I stepped away from him and once again looked at his room. It was impeccable. Not an article of clothing was left on the floor. Not a sheet of paper out of place. His bed was made, with sharp, clean lines that one might expect in the military. Everything was in order... where it should be. No wonder why he was the most disciplined and perhaps the smartest of the Saints.
I swallowed the ball of tension that had been steadily growing since knocking on his door. “Aren’t you going to say anything?” I whispered.
“I’m not in the habit of speaking when I have nothing to say.”
