“Okay, Deke.”
She was now just out and out laughing.
He had them back where they always were, he did what he did with Jussy.
Took advantage.
“We’re gettin’ you an eighty inch TV,” he declared.
Her hand jerked in his when she snapped. “We are not.”
“Eighty inches, HD, movies will seem like we’re watchin’ them in a theater.”
“We won’t be in a theater, Deke. We’ll be in my bedroom.”
They fucking would.
And after that night, them being there would have a different meaning.
“You’re loaded, Jussy. You get anything less than an eighty inch, they’ll take away your membership in the Rich As Shit Club.”
“I gave up that membership a long time ago. Most rich people are assholes,” she muttered, and he knew she was again looking out the side window.
He also felt his ribs constrict.
Most rich people are assholes.
Christ, yeah.
Like she was made for him.
“Eighty inches, babe.”
“Fifty, Deke.”
He was screwing with her about the eighty.
But fifty?
Was she insane?
“No fuckin’ way,” he shot back. “Eighty.”
“Okay,” she gave in on a sigh then shared she wasn’t giving in. “Sixty.”
“Eighty.”
“Deke!”
“Justice.”
She shut up.
Two minutes later, they turned into the freestanding electronics store outside the mall.
In the end, they got her seventy inches.
Deke thought it was a good compromise.
Justice made it clear that for him, she was just giving in.
Chapter Thirteen
Made for Me
Justice
The bed moved as Deke got out of it.
I didn’t move.
This was because this was the fourth time this had happened.
The first time freaked me out, and when he got back, it took him a while to calm me down by explaining that he was just checking things out and it was all good.
The second time freaked me out too, but when he got back, it didn’t take him as long to calm me down.
The third time, I woke, but fell asleep against him practically before he’d pulled the covers back over himself.
This time, enough was enough.
Shit, he was more freaked than I was about what might happen that night.
And if I didn’t already have enough evidence to prove that things had changed (in a big way) between Deke and me, that would have done it.
In fact, after all the drama died down and he settled me back into the new version of life that he was giving me—work on my place, home to his trailer, togetherness every second of the day (except the rare times he let me out of his sight, but only when I was with men he trusted)—it became clear to me.
No friend showed at a police station and lost his mind, bellowing a woman’s name, flipped out something had happened to her, and the instant he saw her, she was in his arms and held tight, versions of that closeness not ceasing for days that turned into a week.
This included sleeping with her every night. No couch for Deke unless I was in it with him, cuddled up and watching TV.
Nope.
No friend did all that.
Deke Hightower liked me.
He so totally liked me.
But I got why he didn’t go there with me. It wasn’t the time. All that had happened, my worry about Bianca, Mr. T in town, Cal around doing his thing, the threat of the bad guy’s return, I didn’t need more on my mind.
But still.
Deke definitely liked me and even if he hadn’t said it straight out, unless I was letting hope cloud my judgment in reading the signs (and that was a possibility, though with the abundance of signs, it was unlikely) he still communicated it to me.
This would have made me smile if I wasn’t so upset he was so edgy he couldn’t sleep.
I should have known when he took a big gun out of the small bag where he’d packed his stuff to spend the night and set it on the nightstand before we settled into sleep (or me to sleep, Deke to not sleep).
But now after four times where he was so restless he had to get up and do a walkthrough of the house, I knew.
Deke was unsettled and he wasn’t going to get himself settled.
I needed to settle him.
What he’d said that afternoon in his truck was true. I hadn’t thought of it logically but the guy who did what he did to me had no intention of killing me. If he did, he would have done it.
It was a message. He didn’t order me not to contact the police. He’d ordered me to tell Bianca he’d be back. Even if I wasn’t Justice Lonesome, once reported, the cops would be all over protecting a citizen who’d had the same threat delivered like it was and he wouldn’t get the opportunity to come back.
And it was clear that guy knew Bianca well enough to know that threat would work.
No one knew if he’d gotten paid.
But I knew that Bianca would never hear that message and not do what she could to get me out of the line of fire.
I knew it.
I just didn’t let that penetrate until Deke had laid it out for me.
So the guy wasn’t going to show. I felt that in my gut.
But even if he did, I had cops, Deke and Deke’s gun.
So it was all good.
Deke, however, was not feeling this same peace.
I had to get him there.
I heard him come back and I stayed quiet and still until he was in bed and had the covers back over him.
Then I shifted into him, pressing close and drifting a hand up his chest to his neck where I wrapped my fingers around the side.
“You need to relax, honey,” I whispered.
“I’m good,” he totally lied. “Go back to sleep.”