Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 103050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Deacon chuckles. “She’s ready for you.”
I turn and Willow’s in the hallway, complete with a tiara, a Sleeping Beauty dress, and little-girl heels.
“I’m Aurora,” she says. “What’s your name?”
“Your name’s Aurora?” I ask, shocked. “That’s such a coincidence, because that’s my name too.”
“Some people call me Sleeping Beauty,” she says. “But I prefer Aurora. It’s pretty.”
“You’re pretty,” I reply. “And your dad tells me you’re pretty smart too.”
“You’re British,” she says, squinting at me.
“You’re right.” I smile at her. She’s inquisitive and doesn’t fully trust me, and I kinda like that about her. She should be suspicious.
“Do you live in…” She glances at her dad.
“England,” he supplements for her.
“England?” she asks, turning her attention back at me.
“Usually,” I say. “But I’m living in New York for a few months.”
“Let’s go into the kitchen,” Deacon says, interrupting his daughter’s interrogation of me and placing his hand on my back to guide me.
Willow glides into the back of the house, her tiara leading the way.
“I have presents,” I say, handing him a gift bag.
Willow is craning her neck to see what I just handed to her dad.
“For you too,” I say, as we enter the kitchen. I hand her a bigger bag that has glittery unicorns all over it.
“Thank you,” she says, her eyes dancing with mischief.
Then I cringe. Maybe I should have asked Deacon first. I know some parents are really strict about gift giving. “Is that okay?” I mouth at him.
“Absolutely not,” Deacon booms. “No presents allowed in this house. We run a tight ship.”
I think he’s joking. I turn to Willow to see if she’s upset. She just rolls her eyes, and I laugh. I wonder how many people roll their eyes at Deacon. I imagine not many would dare. But this Deacon’s different to the Deacon people at the hotel refer to as Mr. Room 325. He’s soft. And a little silly. I’ve never seen him look so comfortable.
It’s strange seeing him like this—as a dad. I suppose I got to know him as the grumpy, hot guest. But I’ve learned that’s only a small part of him. And now? Here? I’m seeing more of him. Much more of him. He feels complete in my eyes now. Now he’s a father.
Sadness tugs at me. Will I be incomplete if I can’t ever be a mother?
Would a man like Deacon ever want to be with a woman long term if she couldn’t have children? He’s so comfortable in his role as father, I can’t imagine him willingly giving up the opportunity to have more children.
I guess I don’t need to think about that kind of thing. I’ll be back in the UK, an ocean away, in just a few weeks.
“You didn’t say thank you,” Willow says to her dad. “Manners matter.”
Deacon turns to me. “You’re right. Thank you.” His tone is earnest. “But you really shouldn’t have.”
“It’s only small,” I say. I managed to pop out on my lunch hour and grab a couple of things.
“No one ever gives me gifts,” he says. “It’s nice.”
I grin at him, not able to look away from his stare. “You haven’t opened it yet.”
“I’ll love it,” he says.
I think that’s just about the nicest way anyone’s ever received a gift from me.
“Can I open it, Daddy?” Willow asks, as she slides onto one of the benches around the kitchen table.
The ground floor has doors to one side and a huge open-plan living area and kitchen to the other. It’s big but it’s cozy. I so closely associate Deacon with the hotel that it’s weird seeing him here, his shoes off, making jokes. It feels like it’s two different people.
But judging by the way his jeans cling to his thighs, and his t-shirt stretches across his chest, he’s the Deacon I know. For sure.
“Oh, Daddy, look!” Willow says, as she pulls out a hardback book of fairy tales.
“That looks good,” Deacon says. “We could read it tonight?”
“The whole thing?” Willow asks, her eyes lighting up.
Deacon chuckles. “Nice try. No, not the whole thing. But we can make a start.”
“Aurora could read it, couldn’t she, Daddy?” she asks.
“Well, I’m not sure. She’s our guest. So we’d have to ask her if she wants to.”
“Happy to,” I say.
Willow pulls out a few other things that I bought her. A squidgy ball that sticks to anything you throw it at. A pencil set with a Hello Kitty attached to the end of each pencil. And a notebook with a unicorn horn on it.
“Wow, thank you, Aurora!” she says, as she spreads out her gifts.
“You’ve made a friend for life,” he says. “Can I get you a glass of wine?”
“That would be great.”
“Anything you like in particular?” he asks.
“You chose that Argentinian Malbec we had the other day, which was lovely, so I trust you!” I grin up at him.