Smog (The Ardelean Bloodline Book 5) by Sarah Jaeger

Author:Sarah Jaeger [Jaeger, Sarah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bearly Contained Romance
Published: 2024-07-25T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 46

Henri

Deacon and I took turns in the shower. It seemed like he wanted to join me, but something stopped him, and I’m not sure if I’m happy or sad about that. It’s a battle between jumping into another relationship, which my wolf wholly supports, or taking things slow and trying to date Deacon, whatever that might mean.

Whatever I choose, though, based on Deacon’s behavior, he’s not in a hurry to rush me. Which I appreciate.

Then why does it feel like he doesn’t want us? my wolf argues.

I try telling her to shut up again, my own thoughts getting ahead of me.

I’m finishing drying my hair when Deacon emerges from the closet, completely dressed and ready to go. He’s wearing the same band T-shirt from the first day that we worked together. The difference is he swapped out black skinny jeans for dark blue bootcuts today.

He leans against the doorframe, watching me, but it’s not the menacing glare that Nathan would wear as he rushed me. Deacon’s just watching, his gaze contented with a curious head tilt.

I finish at my own pace before turning to look at him and gesturing to the clothes he brought me. “I look okay? It’s not my usual style.”

“More than okay.” Deacon nods.

The clothes don’t smell like anyone else. They’re too small to be Thalia’s, and while they seem like something Lena might casually wear, I’m still not certain they’re hers. The colors are lighter, more neutrals and pastels.

“You bought these for me, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, Hen.” He rubs his hand across the back of his neck. “After the second time you came here, I got some stuff for you to keep here. While I wouldn’t want you to be back here under the same circumstances, it was wishful thinking that you’d ever wear them.”

“Are you . . .” His face is turning a little pink. “Are you embarrassed?”

“Yeah, I kinda am. It’s like being caught with your hand in the cookie jar. I hoped you’d be here, and you are. Busted. Didn’t think it’d ever go quite like this though.” I step toward him, and Deacon offers me his hand. “Come on, the yarn places wait for no one.”

“We don’t —”

“I want to. Please don’t fight me.” Deacon tips his head. “We’re in this super awkward place where we don’t know what we’re doing and how to define what we are to each other. But one thing is for sure, I’d really like to spoil you more than a little bit. Besides, I didn’t get you a birthday present while I was out of the country.”

With a sigh, I accept, putting my hand in his. “Okay. But let’s not go over the top?”

Deacon just smiles. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m the criteria by which all over-the-topness is measured.”

He leads me out the door to the garage, grabbing our jackets on the way, and into the heated garage. I climb in when he opens the passenger door for me. Once I’m buckled, he drapes my jacket over my lap and closes the door.

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