“The bouncer was watching me or I would have.”

“Been a while since you’ve been in a relationship, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“How long?”

Fuck if he wanted to tell him, but he admitted, “Since I was fifteen.”

Maddox shook his head. “I’d laugh and call bullshit, but I don’t think you’re kidding, D.”

“I’m not. After my last . . .” Hold on. Should you share the ugly part of your past with the guy who’s helping you build a future?

No.

Deacon shrugged. “I’ve stuck to sex without entanglements. I don’t even understand why it feels different with Molly. I sure as fuck don’t know what to do about it now that I’ve royally screwed up again.”

“Tell her that.”

“Show up on her doorstep and blurt out what an idiot I am?” he said, a little horrified by that thought.

“You really are clueless.”

“That’s helpful, fuckhead.”

“Maybe something will come to you while you’re groveling. But make no mistake—that’s what it’ll take.”

“I figured.”

“What if she won’t forgive you?” Maddox asked.

Deacon shot Maddox a dark look. “I’m blaming you. Then I’ll grovel and promise her that it’ll be the last time my trainer interferes with my love life.”

“Love life, eh?” Maddox nudged Deacon’s shoulder. “Speaking of . . . Now that you’ve poured your heart out to me”—Deacon snorted—“it’s time for you to return the favor.”

“I’ll definitely need to be punching shit while you’re jawing on about it.”

Maddox smiled. “That I can help with.”

CHAPTER THREE

MONDAYS were always busy at Hardwick Designs. But Molly thrived on it. She remembered the lean times—which hadn’t been that long ago.

Since she’d taken over as office manager, she’d freed up her boss, Amery, to work more on the creative side of the graphic-arts business. And Molly had streamlined their operations so Amery could spend more time with her husband, Ronin.

Part of the streamlining process had been hiring Presley Quinn—aka PQ, or Elvis—a kick-ass artist and one of the most out-of-the-box thinkers Molly had ever met. But Presley, for all her tats, piercings, funky clothes, and offbeat lifestyle, had no problem with taking direction and was very much a team player. After interviewing a dozen potential employees, Molly knew how rare that trait was in creative types. The irony was they’d met in Deacon’s kickboxing class at Black Arts, so they’d become friends first before Molly had approached Amery on the subject of hiring Presley. So far everything had worked out better than either she or Amery had imagined.

In addition to hiring Presley, Molly had convinced their friend, and Amery’s former coworker, Chaz Graylind, to work for Hardwick Designs. Chaz had some professional highs, followed by lows, and having a steady paycheck appealed to him. Plus, he’d proven in the last year that he had Amery’s back, after a personal issue caused her to question their friendship and his loyalty. The bonus was since they were all adrift from their families in some form, they’d formed their own family.

So after spending most of the day on the phone, Molly was happy when things wound down around four o’clock. Presley had a roller derby bout, so she left early. At five, Chaz breezed by, kissing her cheek, expressing regrets she couldn’t come along to happy hour. But she couldn’t wait to finish out her day in blessed quiet.

Lost in spreadsheets, she glanced up from her computer screen an hour later, when the front door chimed. Chaz must’ve forgotten to lock it.

She wheeled her chair around and headed to the reception area. Whoever had stumbled in could just deal with her bare feet, because those killer pumps were not going back on.

“Sorry. We’re closed—” was all she managed when she saw Deacon standing in the center of the room, shrinking the space with his presence.

Her intent to order him out of the building vanished when his smoldering gaze rolled over her and he said, “Looking good, babe,” in that sexy southern drawl.

“What do you want?”

“To talk.”

“I said everything I needed to say Saturday night.”

“Fine. Then you’ll listen.” His long strides erased the distance between them. He grabbed her hand and towed her around the corner. Then he backed her against the brick wall.

And she let him, which annoyed her.

“Don’t know if I oughta be worried or excited by the way you’re looking at me.”