“You gotta bake a cake, I’ll eat it. Happily. Do it on September fourteenth. I’ll accept a blowjob as a present but nothin’ else, only need to wake up with you in the morning and bed down with you at night. And I’m not shittin’ you about that, settin’ you up for me gettin’ pissed because you didn’t buy me anything. Special occasions are about the people you spend them with, not about the shit you can get out of them. And while I’m sayin’ this, same goes for Christmas. Far’s I’m concerned, I get another shot at Christmas with you, or luck out and get fifty of ’em, each one can be like the one we already had, except I sleep beside you, fuck you wakin’ up and fuck you again before we go to sleep.”

God, he made it hard to be angry at him.

“You wanna know the man I am, I’ll tell you,” he kept at it. “I’m the man who’s gonna take your shit but best you at it so I can at least replace about five square feet of shingles on your roof. But if I’m on my game, I’ll be the man replacing the whole roof.”

“Deacon—”

“And I’m the man who’s gonna work the next week alongside you cleaning out the gutters on your cabins, because if you didn’t think to do that to your house, you didn’t think to do it to your cabins, and they’re probably fucked up too.”

“Dea—”

“And I’m the man who’s gonna sit beside you at your friends’ house tomorrow night and like bein’ there ’cause I haven’t been around many good people the last ten years. Quick count, there are three.”

More not good.

He kept going.

“And I’m gonna get off on bein’ at a table with people who bring a woman that means somethin’ to them that they’re worried about a hot fudge sundae to try and make her happy.”

I lifted a hand to his jaw. “Honey—”

“And food’s gettin’ low so I’m gonna be the man who pays for groceries when we go to the store and I don’t give a fuck if you argue with me at the cash register. I’m payin’. You can pay the next go.”

It occurred to me he was talking and doing a lot of it so I decided to shut up and listen because he wasn’t only talking a lot, he was saying a lot.

“I’m also the man who’s gonna eventually have to take a job but I’m gonna do it thinkin’ of when I can get back to you, and when it’s done, I’m gonna haul ass back to you. And I probably won’t sleep or eat while I’m doin’ that so you’re just gonna have to suck it up, feed me when I get back, fuck me hard like you just did, and let me crash.”

I had something to say to that.

“I don’t want you to get in an accident.”

At that, he dipped his face so close to me, I could feel his breath on my lips.

“Baby, that shit happened, my ghost would come to you.”

Oh my God.

Yes, oh yes.

He was saying a lot.

“Now, do you get what kind of man I am?” he asked.

“Yes,” I breathed.

“And do you get the kind of man I am for you?”

There was a nuance of difference but he didn’t need to explain it.

I got it.

“Yes, honey.”

“Right. Now, can I go to sleep?”

“Yes, Deacon.”

At that, he kissed me, closed-mouthed and hard, then rolled again, moving me with him and tucking me into his side.

I drew in a deep breath.

Deacon didn’t. He just curled me closer when I did and loosened his hold when I let my breath out. A show of support. He was there with me. He knew that was a lot for me to take and he was telling me he was there.

Yes, I knew the kind of man he was for me.

I listened to his breathing even. I did this for a while.

Then I stated, “I still don’t want you to get in an accident. I’m not sure ghosts give good head.”

Deacon burst out laughing.

Although I loved that sound and that it was me who gave it to him, I lifted my head to look down at his moonlit face, stating through his mirth, “I’m only kind of being funny.”

He again pulled me up his chest so we were face to face.

“Here’s the deal,” he began when his laughter diminished. “I’m done with a job, I’ll stop to sleep and eat. It won’t be much sleep and it’ll be shit food that’s fast that I can eat on the road. Happy?”

“So badasses can compromise.”

“Jesus, I’m wiped and now I gotta rally in order to spank you,” he told the ceiling.

“You don’t have to do that,” I replied quickly, though only because I was tired too and I was pretty certain another orgasm might kill me.

His eyes came to mine. “What’d I say about being a smartass?”

“It’s a part of me,” I pointed out.

“It’s a part of you that’s gonna get you a red ass.”

“Please don’t. I think another orgasm tonight might kill me.”

I gasped as his hand darted out, curled around the back of my head, and pulled me to within an inch of his face.

“There it is, Cassidy, you know me,” he said, his voice heavy with meaning.

“Sorry?”

“We haven’t played, we haven’t even discussed playing, and you know I do that shit to you, it comes with an orgasm.”

Again.

He was right.

Sheesh.

“Shut up, let me go, and go to sleep,” I bossed.

“And I know you because I know you’re bein’ bossy right now not because you’re my Cassie boss, which you are, but because I’m right and you’re not willin’ to concede because you’re fuckin’ stubborn.”

“I think I prefer silent, speaks with his eyes and actions Deacon.”

“Kiss him good-bye, baby, and don’t bitch. You opened the floodgates.”

“Ugh,” I grunted. “Time to build a time machine.”

“Stop amusing me and settle in, woman. We got gutters to take care of tomorrow.”

We did.

Why did that make me happy?

I didn’t let on.

I mumbled, “Oh, all right,” shut up, and settled in.

When I did, Deacon’s arm around me gave me a squeeze and again, he was right. I knew him.

Because I knew that arm squeeze came along with Deacon smiling.

That also made me happy.

I again didn’t let on.

“Now I’m freaked out about us discussing playing,” I said to the room.