On that thought, a knock came at the door and Deacon’s body tensed as my hands gripped his shirt tighter.

Now, that could be Milagros, but only if she felt like taking a break.

He didn’t move his hands even as he let me tip my head back to catch his gaze.

“That might be Milagros, the lady that helps me.”

If I had a guess, I would have guessed that he would nod and step away, stay in the study or absent himself in some way. Keep to the shadows even on a sunny day.

He did not do this.

In fact, he so did not do this he let me go and walked right out of the study.

I followed him and saw him going to the door.

It was then I felt him, the alertness coming off him and filling the foyer, and my eyes went from his back that was twisting, to his face that was turned to me.

“It’s not your girl,” he murmured and I looked quickly to the door to see it appeared there were a number of people standing out on my porch.

“Oh man,” I muttered.

Deacon opened the door.

I hurried to his side and my stomach pitched when I saw who was there.

Two of the people were Annabelle and Peyton. One was a young man older than Annabelle but definitely related to her. And rounding out the lot were two adults that could be no one other than Annabelle’s parents.

None of them looked happy.

“Can we help you?” Deacon asked.

“Are you Mr. Swallow?” the father asked back.

“I’m Mr. Priest. This is Ms. Swallow,” Deacon answered, his head tilting to indicate me, his resuming the name Priest throwing me for a second that I didn’t have a chance to process before he kept going. “Now, can we help you?”

“You were both there last night,” the father stated.

I swallowed and looked to Peyton and Annabelle.

Both had red eyes like they’d been crying but they didn’t look scared.

I glanced at the mom.

She looked like her world had ended.

I turned my attention to the young man.

He looked ravaged.

No one looked angry. The dad didn’t seem happy, but he wasn’t pissed.

What was going on?

“We were,” Deacon confirmed.

The father turned to what I was guessing was his son. “Duck,” he began. “Now.”

The kid stepped forward, his gaze going to Deacon’s.

“It was me. I was supposed to look after my sister and Peyton. We met some kids. Mom and Dad said we could hang with them. I let the girls drink. Then I met someone and I didn’t look after my sister. She made her decisions but I promised I’d take care of her. I didn’t.” He stopped abruptly, his throat convulsing, and his voice was thick when he went on, “I’m sorry what happened to them. And I’m sorry you had to do what you had to do last night. But I’m glad you were around to do it.”

Whoa.

That wasn’t what I expected.

It was a whole lot better.

“It’s our fault, Jayden,” Annabelle called out meekly. “We shouldn’t have gone with them and not told you where we were going.”

The boy turned to her. “Was supposed to look out for you, Belly.”

I sucked in my lips because that was sweet.

“We’re here on vacation,” the dad stated and I looked to him. “The kids have their own unit, we have ours. My son is in college and has demonstrated a certain level of maturity so we trusted them to that and their own vehicle so they could do their thing. We thought they were old enough to have some fun without their mom and dad hanging around. We also trusted Jayden to look after his sister. He didn’t. My suspicion is, if he gets the chance again, he will. But we wanted you to know Annabelle shared with her mother what happened last night. We’ve talked with Annabelle and Peyton. We’ve talked with Jayden. And now we wanted to come to apologize for you having to get involved and to express our gratitude that you did.”

I opened my mouth to say something, ask them in for a coffee, but Deacon got there before me.

“Don’t ever do that again.” At his firm tone, a tone so firm it was granite, my eyes shot to him to see his gaze locked on Jayden. “Your sister, her friends, your mother, the woman you’re gonna claim, nothin’s more important. Not one thing. You know that now. Don’t ever forget it.”

My heart was beating funny as I tore my gaze from Deacon and watched the boy shake his head and swallow before saying, “I won’t.”

I looked back at Deacon to see him jerk his chin to the kid.

That was when I jumped in.

“Do you all wanna come in for a drink or something?”

“I think we’ve had our share of your kindness, Ms. Swallow,” the mother replied.

“If there’s any damage done, we’re willing to pay,” the father put in.

I shook my head. “Not necessary. The renters have been charged for the damage.”

The man nodded his head jerkily. He was upset about what happened and disappointed in his children.

And I suspected he wanted to move on.

“We appreciate you coming,” I said in order to let them know they were off the hook.

“And we appreciate you being responsible for our girls when we were not,” the man declared curtly and I knew he was also kicking himself, which made me feel sad for him but happy that Annabelle had a father that seemed a lot like mine.

“It’s done now and all’s well,” I said quietly.

I got another jerky head nod from the dad then he used his head to indicate to the others they needed to move out.

The mom smiled at Deacon but stopped at me, looked in my eyes, communicating everything that needed to be said (and there was a lot) as she took my hand and gave it a squeeze before she moved away.

The boy avoided my eyes as he nodded my way but gave Deacon a handshake.

Both girls stopped and gave me a hug, Annabelle whispering in my ear, “You’re cool, Cassidy. And we want you to know we’re cool. Thanks to you,” before she let me go quickly, didn’t let me say anything, and hurried to the SUV.

The father shook Deacon’s hand and gave me a chin dip before he walked stiffly to his truck.

We watched them do this before Deacon pulled me gently out of the door and closed it.

I looked up at him, striking a trip to Vista Real off my to-do list and glad for it. Not because it wasn’t exactly close, but because I could feel settled that those two girls were being looked after.

So, with my afternoon (kind of) free, when I caught his eyes, I asked, “Do you like turkey?”