Sometimes it just plain sucked that he was so wise.
“I was thinking more along the lines of paying her stylist to make all her hair fall out and setting up her husband or boyfriend with a call girl and sending her the pictures, but your revenge works too,” I mumbled.
“Glad you think that way,” he mumbled back.
I kept up with the mumbling. “Though yours works, mine’s better.”
Deke’s hand slid down my side, over my hip, in and he pushed my leg open so his hips fell through, doing this saying, “See? Jesus. She’s cute and I gotta fuck her and I just got done fuckin’ her.”
“I support this option for our next activity because I have some residual Vile Bitch feelings to work out.”
His mouth hit mine but when it did, he didn’t kiss me.
He spoke.
“Just sayin’, it wasn’t actually me givin’ you the option.” And with that, I felt as he slid the tip of his hard cock through my gathering wet.
I suddenly decided I’d learned enough about Deke Hightower for one night.
“Are we done talking?” I asked.
More humor in his one syllable when he answered, “Yes.”
“Then let’s stop talking,” I suggested.
Deke didn’t reply.
He kissed me.
And we were done talking.
Chapter Eighteen
Loss and Gain
Justice
The next day, I was in my truck on the way back from town with sandwiches when the call came in from Chace.
I took it, putting it on speaker, saying, “Hey, Chace.”
“Hey, Justice, things good?”
“Yep,” I replied, thinking that word was an understatement. “What’s shakin’?” I asked.
“Callin’ to let you know, DNA tests came in and they were a match. It was Caswell that broke into your house.”
Everything had been pointing to that. But even so, I felt a profound sense of relief to know that was true.
That it was definitely over.
“You good?” Chace asked as I turned on to Ponderosa Road.
“Relieved,” I answered. “So yeah. I’m good.”
“That’s good to hear, Justice. And was gonna call Deke but since I got you, Faye and me got a babysitter for Saturday. We’re gonna hit Bubba’s. She’d like to meet you. Maybe you guys could come into town and hang with us for a drink.”
That pushed out the weirdness, even if it came with relief, and just left me with a glow because Chace was Deke’s friend, he was going to call Deke, but since he had me, that me being Deke’s girlfriend, he just asked me.
That had never happened to me before.
And it felt way nice.
“I’ll talk to Deke but I’d love to meet your wife,” I said to Chace.
“Great. You or Deke throw me a text when it’s confirmed and hope to see you there.”
“Right, Chace. And thanks.”
“No problem.”
“No,” I said, my tone changing. “I mean thanks. Thanks for how you were at the station when I was flipped out. Thanks for working on this. Thanks for everything. It’s your job but I hope you know how important it is. How much it helps knowing someone gives a shit, knows what they’re doing and is doing something about it.”
His tone had changed too when he replied, “It is my job, Justice. But I do it for a reason, me giving a shit is the reason I do it and the rest was nice to hear you say.”
“I’ll buy you a drink on Saturday,” I offered, deciding it was time to get on to those cases of hooch, all around.
“I’ll look forward to arguing with you about the fact you don’t gotta do that.”
I smiled as I turned on my indicator when the mouth of my lane came into view.
“Later, Chace,” I said.
“Later, Justice. Take care and say hey to Deke for me.”
That made my glow glowier.
“Will do. ’Bye.”
He rang off. I drove down my lane and parked.
I grabbed the sandwich bag, the bag from La-La Land (Shambles had been in a ginger mood so it was ginger snaps for luncheon dessert, dee-lish) and hauled myself out of my granddad’s truck.
I went into the house and found Deke in the study. A study that already had a full hardwood floor, the wood dusty but that didn’t hide the beauty it’d have when it was polished. Deke was wearing protective coverings over his boots and squatting by an outlet he was working on.
He lifted his eyes to me at the doorway.
“Sandwiches,” I said.
“Right. Few minutes, gypsy,” he murmured and looked back to his outlets.
“Baby?” I called.
His attention turned back to me.
“Chace called. The DNA was a match for Caswell.”
I watched the same relief I felt flare in his eyes so bright, I could see it even from a distance.
But he only said a soft, “Good.”
“And Faye and Chace want us to meet them for drinks at Bubba’s Saturday night.”
“You up for that?” he asked.
I nodded.
“I’ll text Chace,” he said, looking back to the outlet.
It hadn’t even been two weeks since my assault. Since my world changed. Since Deke, who had already been in it, came roaring into it, thundering my name.
And here we were, making plans for drinks with his friends like this was what we did. Like this was a part of life. Like this was the natural order of things.
I’d flown around the world and back again, the kind of girl who did that sort of thing and didn’t bother to count how many times she’d circled the globe.